Page 56 of Unrealistic Expectations

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

A week later, Jessica had only left her condo for work. Galvin had called her the next day as promised, and she hadn’t answered. She was a combination of angry about how he’d treated the situation and embarrassed about how much she’d freaked out. He’d called every day, but she just wasn’t ready to deal with him and her feelings for him.

And eventually, he’d stop calling.

Instead of facing her issues, as soon as she’d returned each day, she unhooked her bra and pulled it through the sleeve of the simple sheath dress she had in every neutral shade and threw it on her bed. Having an underwire sticking to her ribs even long enough to completely undress and pull on sweats was too much discomfort to endure on top of the raw feeling she had over every inch of her skin after the events of Saturday night.

She also knew that she was fucking it up as a therapist at the moment. She was empty, but she didn’t really have any useful insights for anyone now that she realized that she didn’t know anything. She’d even gotten teary with a client who was excited about a promising date. She thought she’d covered until the client had given her a sympathetic look and asked if she was okay during the session. She’d never had the mask slip off quite so decisively before.

But it was Saturday now, and she had her day free. She didn’t have to get out of bed, though she really should get up and clean the condo and wash the sheets. They still sort of smelled like Galvin from the last time he was here. And, if she did laundry, she would have to wash and return the T-shirt and boxer shorts that he’d left here. She’d been wearing them to bed.

It was absolutely pathetic. She’d never borrowed any of Luke’s clothes—partially because it made her feel weird that they were almost too tight for her. But Galvin’s were roomy and very expensive. Wearing his clothes gave her a little bit of the feeling she had when she was wrapped in his arms. She wanted to keep as much of that as she could for however long she could.

It boggled her mind that she was more upset about Galvin’s callous behavior than she was about Luke’s infidelity. After all, that had involved a lot more lies over a longer period of time. Galvin had become so integrated into her life, and they’d become so intimate over such a short period of time—of course it was going to hurt to lose that abruptly. But Luke had been pulling away, bit by bit, over years and years. It was so gradual that she hadn’t noticed it. By the time he’d finally left, there was little difference to her life before and after—just the missing furniture.

She should get up and shop for furniture. Even though she was probably going to sell the condo and move somewhere more suited to her tastes, she should probably furnish it to get it sold faster.

But thinking about furnishings and interiors would make her want Galvin’s opinion, and she couldn’t have that anymore. He would definitely answer her calls, but she couldn’t trust herself not to fall into his arms again. And that wasn’t healthy. He was a rebound, and she would be better off putting their relationship in the past.

About a hundred times a day, Jessica turned over every moment they’d spent together in her mind. She would pick them up and examine them from every side, trying to figure out whether he had ever been authentic in his affections. It had certainly felt like he wanted to be with her, but she couldn’t know.

The next time a client came in after having fallen for a narcissist, Jessica would be able to empathize and relate, but she couldn’t shake the self-recriminations that she should have known better.

She was pulled out of her meditation on all the ways that she’d been a fool by the lock of her front door clicking. Luke didn’t have a key anymore, and Galvin never had one, so it could only be Barbie or Kelly. They had been texting her since last Sunday, but she hadn’t had the energy to answer. Outside of work, she’d only been able to lie in bed and watch reruns of ID Channel shows that she’d already seen.

She was shocked when Abby walked into her bedroom. It was Saturday, so she wasn’t wearing her customary suit, and it was kind of strange to see her in workout clothes. They were friendly, but they didn’t have a relationship like that.

“When your friends called and said that they were worried about you, I didn’t believe them.” Abby looked horrified, and Jessica could only guess at what she looked like in that moment. The hair had to be greasy—she hadn’t washed it since Wednesday. And she couldn’t recall whether she’d washed off her makeup the night before. Probably not. That felt like too much effort, even now.

“How did they know to call you?” She was surprised neither of them had shown up until she remembered that Barbie was on location for a film in Toronto this month, and Kelly had a week full of being on call. She wondered if Kelly would be able to get any information about Luke and Kari via the hospital grapevine. She didn’t care—well, maybe a little—but that was more curiosity than anything else.

Abby shrugged. “My information is on your book website.”

“And Kelly gave you the key?”

“No, I demanded it as soon as she called. I wanted to make sure that you were going to be ready to go on Monday.”

“What’s Monday? It’s only Saturday.” The only ease Jessica felt at the moment was that she wasn’t going to have to face the world for at least thirty-six more hours.

“You’re going to be on The Viewpoint on Monday.”

Panic rose in Jessica’s throat. “No, I’m not.”

“Oh yes, you are.” Abby smiled, but it was not a pleased, happy, or nice smile. It was diabolical, and Jessica had never been on the receiving end. She imagined that anyone faced with Abby’s visage in this state rolled over and did whatever she wanted them to do, but Jessica couldn’t even work up fear of the consequences of failing to comply with Abby’s demands.

“I can’t go on a talk show.” Jessica searched for the words to make Abby understand that her life was falling apart, and she had no business telling anyone else how to live their lives. “I don’t understand men.”

Abby rolled her eyes. “No one understands straight men. Even straight men don’t understand straight men. If they knew themselves and what was best for them, we wouldn’t have a fifty percent divorce rate and such a steep decline in fertility that lawmakers are continually clawing back women’s rights. Which just makes us want to fuck them less. God, they’re stupid.”

“Didn’t Kelly or Barbie tell you what happened?” Jessica really didn’t want to go into the whole Luke thing, because that would force her to go into the Galvin of it all. And she really lacked the energy for that.

“No, they just said that the reunion hadn’t gone as planned, and neither of them could reach you.” Abby’s fierce expression softened a little. “Why, what happened at the reunion? It has to be something big to turn you from perfectly pressed to rabid raccoon chic.”

“Luke brought his very pregnant new fiancée to the reunion.” It was sort of like ripping off a Band-Aid, painful to say, but over quickly. “And then Galvin freaked out because I was freaking out, and I think we might have broken up. Maybe. Probably.”

The “I eat nails for breakfast” look was back, but Jessica didn’t think it was at her. And then it was almost as though Abby was making advanced mathematical calculations in her brain and couldn’t engage with the outside world for a few moments. Maybe this was all too much for her to cover up with the television people and the publishing people. They were probably going to rescind the offer to write another book and expose her as a fraud. She would be a laughingstock. All her clients would discontinue working with her, and she’d end up living in her mother’s trailer.

“That shithead. I thought he was more than a stupid, fucking pretty boy. I guess I was wrong.” Abby’s insults stopped Jessica’s spiral. “And I could strangle Luke in his sleep.”

---