Page 18 of Shame

It's the way he repeats the same pathetic plea he made in the restaurant, like we hadn’t agreed to let the conversation go. It makes my head explode.Fight for us.That's all I've done for the last twenty years. I have protected him, I have protected his family. I have loved him when he is the most imperfect man ever.

I have wanted him desperately. And he has never returned any of that effort, not nearly enough of that desire. And now he wants me to keep fighting. I have fought enough.

“Are you kidding me?” I burst out. “If you want us to survive this somehow—and frankly, I don't think that's possible—youhave to fight for us. I’m done. You wantmeto fight for us with you? I've already done my part. Now it's your turn,youspend the next twenty years fighting for us. The way that I have fought for us. And thenmaybewe'll be even. Okay? Enough of that. Don't dump yet another problem in my lap. Another Luke-fucked-up and Grace-will-fix-that situation. That's not what this is.”

“That’s what I mean,” he cuts in, his breath surging out of him now as he bends at the knee, trying to keep eye contact with me. “I’m saying this all wrong. I don’t know what the right thing to say is. But I want to fix it. Do you want me to fix it?”

“I don't know what I want.” I’m numb inside. “I know that I wanted you desperately. I loved you far too much. Right now, I just want to get my show going. I just—you know, for a long time I have supported your career, through good and very bad.”

The numb feeling is warming into some sizzling anger again. I’m so tired of this cycle.

I roll my neck, exhale, and shake it off. “Now it's my fucking turn. I need you to get out of my way for a little bit. That's what I want. I don't have the energy to fight about this right now. What I need is to work. And it's going to be really fucking challenging as it is, so please don't make it any harder.”

“Okay. I hear you.”

“And I need you to get out of the apartment, because I can’t sleep at Sam’s again.” I gesture in the direction of his brother’s building. “I’m not ready to explain…”

He swallows, his eyes wide, and he nods. “I’ll go to a hotel.”

“Look for something more long term than a hotel,” I mutter.

He steps back, and I open the door to my car. Then I close it again, swearing, because I need to put Sam’s sheets in the fucking dryer.

“What is it?”

I shake my head, and he follows me to Sam’s building.

“Go away,” I tell him, exasperated.

“Maybe I’ll stay here,” he says as I use the key fob I should probably stop using. Sam and I have had a co-dependent relationship for too long, and he’s in a relationship now. I’m no longer his stand-in mother or big sister, and he’s no longer my safe space.

Ergo, his apartment is no longer my safe space.

My heart aches a bit as I realize that, albeit not for the first time. It’s been an adjustment process for me because I’m so fucking needy. And as it turned out, I had good reason to be needy, because my husband was fucking around.

“Unless you don’t want Sam to know we’re struggling.”

“Separating.”

“Temporarily.”

“Permanently.” I sigh as the elevator takes its time to arrive. “You can tell him if you want to. He’d let you stay here. He’d love an excuse to go to Hazel’s full time.”

Luke doesn’t say anything to that.

He doesn’t speak again until we’re in Sam’s place, and I’m turning over the laundry. “I’d rather not tell him,” he admits. He shrugs. “I don’t want to tell anyone. But if you want me to, I will.”

I roll my eyes.

Likely story. I keep telling him to leave me alone and he ignores that. Why am I letting him follow me around like a puppy?

I come to a stop, staring at the button on the dryer.Run cycle.WhyamI letting Luke do this? I turn around slowly and glare at his back. He’s standing at the window in the living room, which has the most amazing view of the CN Tower.

“This is a great apartment,” Luke says without turning around. “You did a good job picking it out for him.”

“He chose it. I just helped.”

“Whyhaven’tyou told him? I thought you would have called him.”

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