“I—That’s not what I meant. I meant it’s happening too quickly for me.”
“Quickly? You know I love you. I never stopped.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Another question.” Jamison cupped my chin with his hand. “Do you love me?”
“I—”
“Don’t bullshit me. Don’t give me the ‘we’re divorced and I have to play from this side of the court’ response. Just tell me. Do you love me, Kerry?”
“Yes,” I said.
“So would you marry me?”
“I can’t. I’m like, what—you’re married.”
“I’m getting divorced. You know that,” he said.
“So, I’m supposed to just be your third wife? Marry you again and be your third wife?”
“Third time’s the charm.”
“This isn’t a joke. Not if you’re serious,” I said and I heard a hunger in my voice that made me want to bite my lip.
“I am serious. We should do it. Move past all of this shit and just do it.”
“It’s not that simple,” I laughed lightly at his planning. “We can’t just get married and live happily ever after. We tried that already and failed.”
“We were different people then—you, you were different. Now, you’re—”
“What I am, you made me,” I said harshly so he could feel for a minute my pain. I knew I’d changed, but I’d had to. Had to discover my two feet so I didn’t fall down.
I expected him to apologize, but he didn’t.
“What I am, you made me,” Jamison repeated, and then for the first time I felt how my actions in the divorce and even before it had changed him. I knew of his darkness. But before I’d seen the suffering as a sign of my wins. Now I could see it as proof of his wounds.
I turned and found my restless dream with Jamison’s arm wrapped around my waist.
When I woke up, the arm was gone. I turned and saw the light on in the bathroom.
“I’m not going to talk about this shit with you, Coreen,” Jamison said. The door was only halfway closed and I could hear him clearly. “Well, you saw it on the news. Fine. It doesn’t affect you. Do what you have to do. You do that and I’ll do what I have to do.”
There was quiet. Jamison was cursing, but I knew he was talking to himself. Then I heard the phone rattling and he was repeating, “Where? Where? Where?” Jamison started cursing to himself again and came out of the bathroom. He was still fully dressed. We both were.
“What’s going on? Who was that?” I asked. “Was it Coreen?”
“Yes.” Jamison went to put on his shoes.
I sat up in the bed.
“What did she want? Where are you going?”
“I need to handle this. I’ll be back.” He stood up and pushed his phone into his pocket. I could still hear it vibrating.
“What? Is she here or something?” I looked around the room like she could be hiding under the bed. I remembered seeing her at the house that night when I’d found Jamison there. The wild, crazy look in her eyes.
“Yes,” Jamison said soberly.