Page 98 of Inflame

I inwardly scold myself when I hear the soft footsteps coming down the stairs. I turn and see Angie dressed in workout gear. She is not a morning person, so this is definitely showing a level of commitment from her. But then again, since she started therapy a few months ago, I’ve noticed a different level of discipline from her.

“We have a delivery of groceries coming this morning. I placed it last night before bed. How did you sleep?”

“Better than expected.”

“Good,” she says with a smile. “Any chance you just want to go for a walk?”

“That sounds good, actually. Let me get dressed.”

I skip back to my room and toss on a pair of leggings and a loose long-sleeved shirt. I don’t have many options, since I only packed for one night’s adventure.

Despite Ethan ignoring three of my texts, I’m going to have to figure out things with him one way or another. We are technically cohabitating, although, according to Nic he doesn’t need the place we share at all. Sooner or later, I’m going to need to come face-to-face with the problems we are having, instead of just trying to avoid them altogether. Change can only happen through honesty.

When Angie and I set a steady pace, I take a few deep breaths and give her the summary of what’s going on—minus the parts where Nic got involved and the lost bet.

“So, things with Ethan and me got very ugly in Vegas,” I start in general terms. “Actually, let me backtrack.”

“Okay…”

“Turning down the Los Angeles internship changed everything for me. It was my way of committing to Ethan and seeing where our relationship would go. And it wasn’t even a week after the decision that everything went downhill. It was a gradual thing, and at first I just assumed his mood was work related. We used to spend time together, went on dates, and I felt connected to him. But when I said ‘no’ to my dream job, he got weird. I made that decision for him, and he went from being affectionate to making me feel needy.”

“Do you think he felt the pressure when you stayed back? Maybe he expected the whole relationship to be short-term and you declining the internship somehow made it harder for him to end the relationship without looking like a jerk?”

“We are adults. If he wanted to end things, he could end things.”

Angie shrugs. “Sure. But he is all about appearances.”

“And money,” I chime in. I fix my hair into a ponytail as I think over the whole relationship. “Maybe he thought he could do whatever he wanted and because I seemed financially set with my parents sending me money, he wouldn’t have to spend any on me. He is petty like that. It was easy for him to get what he wanted sexually from me, while never thinking he had to commit, and then still be able to do whatever he wanted withhismoney because I had my own.”

“I mean, all of that is possible. It’s hard to know what goes on inside the minds of an abuser. Some people put women down because it makes them feel bigger. It sucks and all. Therapy has taught me that I cannot control how other people react. I can only control how I respond to it.”

“I’m so relieved you are finding comfort in therapy. But I’m not so sure it can be the miracle that saves my relationship.”

Angie nods, agreeing. “So you thought going away to Vegas would help you both recharge and refocus your attention on each other?”

“That was the hope. But as I’m sure you noticed, it did the exact opposite. Ethan was more focused on being in the casino than with me. When he was with me, he was condescending.”

“Claire, it took everything in me not to speak up to him the morning we went to the brunch buffet. But I promised Graham that I would let you figure things out for yourself and not add to your stress by sharing my thoughts at the time.”

I nod. “I do appreciate you always respecting me and what you think I would need in the moment. I’m sure it was hard to keep quiet. I know if the roles were reversed, I would have failed. You know how easily my filter breaks.”

She laughs. “I do.”

We pass by a park and take the paved walking trail through the center of it. Blossoms are forming on the trees and the smell of spring is in the air.

“Ethan has three residences—two I had no idea about.”

“Wow, really?” she asks, looking over at me.

“I think he put me up in a rundown fuck pad and has been using his business meetings in Seattle as an excuse to not have to spend much time there.”

“Damn.”

“And every time I attempt to text him, he just ignores me.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I think he is arriving back in Portland in the next couple of hours. Unless he got his flight changed.” Knowing him, it is a possibility. I was completely unaware of his landing time when we were in Vegas and he arrived. “Maybe we can sit down and have an adult conversation, instead of just yelling at each other.”

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