“David, I flew all the way here. Can you please look at me?”
He lets out an audible huff and looks at me like I’m a petulant child, a waste of his time. “Go on then,” he waves at me and stares sarcastically.
“Wow,” I mumble and rub my temples. He’s making it so easy to break up with him, to see so clearly right now. What the hell was I thinking the past two years? “Things haven’t been good between us for a long time, David. Out of decency, I wanted to come home and tell you in person that you and I are done, officially.”
His eyebrows shoot up and he laughs, “Yeah, ok, Mallory. Stop being so juvenile. I don’t have time for this.”
“Juvenile? I’m trying to be an adult here. I don’t want any hard feelings or a fight, I just needed to…”
“Could you be more selfish right now?” He snaps. “I am in the middle of a board crisis, our stocks are down, and those plebeians at Cooper Media are making our lives hell!”
I don’t know anything about a board crisis or our stocks, but that’s because I have never involved myself in Dad’s precious dinosaur business of print media and I’ve barely spoken to Mom and Dad since leaving New York. All I’ve gotten are snarky texts with vaguely racist comments about the countries I’m visiting or demanding I stop embarrassing and them and come home.
One of Dad’s associates had seen me on TV standing behind Lennox during a post-race interview, and he let me know how ‘ashamed’ he was that a colleague saw me ‘associating with such a hooligan.’ I told him said hooligan was a world champion and, just because this is what Robert Mitchell really cares about, that his net worth is several times over his. That said hooligan should be embarrassed to be seen with a Mitchell if anything. That was the last text he sent me. Mom knows I’m home and I’ve met Cody for lunch, but Dad and I may be irreparably broken.
As are David and me.
“Right,” I draw out the word in response to David’s tantrum. “Ok then, well good luck with that. Good luck to you, David. I wish you nothing but the best.” I kind of wish him a raging case of crabs and a receding hairline, but I bite my tongue. It isn’t worth it.
“Wait, what are you doing?” David tugs my arm as I stand to leave, pulling me back into my chair.
“Umm, I’m leaving now.”
“You aren’t serious?” His face is shocked as if he’s not heard a word I’ve said.
“I’m dead serious, we’re over, David. I need to go now.”
“Wait, this is all just a big misunderstanding.” His voice is low and he reaches for my hand over the table, which I pull away from him and put in my lap.
“No, there’s no misunderstanding. Definitely breaking up with you.” This is getting weird and I’m glad we’re in a public space, after all.
“Mallory, the only reason I’ve been distant is because your father told me to cut you off, to push you away!”
“What?” I seethe, my face twisted in disgust and shock.
“He said it would get you to stop this nonsense and come home!”
“Oh, did he?”
“Yeah, you and me, Mallory, we’re fine!”
I shake my head at him, a mixture of anger toward my father and pity for this shell of a man before me turning my stomach. “And you just went along with it, Daddy’s little puppet.”
“What choice did I have, be reasonable.”
“You could have, I don’t know, acted like a man and stood up for me,” I wave my hands at him, my voice rising and drawing the attention of people at the end of the counter waiting for their order. “You could have supported my dreams and been proud of me.”
“Keep your voice down,” he scolds.
“Why? Afraid the people around us might learn what spineless weasel you really are?” A woman behind me adds a loud mmm hmmm and when I turn to look at her she nods at me and gives David a wicked stink eye.
“You’re making a huge mistake. Your parents will never allow this.”
“My mistake was wasting two years with you. Fortunately, those days are over and Robert and Lydia Mitchell may have castrated you, but I’m a grown woman and I don’t answer to them.” A second woman behind me utters yeah in support.
I stand up, put my shoulders back, tell David to have a nice life and to never contact me again. The two eavesdroppers behind me give me fist bumps on the way out and I stroll out of the Bean n’ Brew feeling like a weight has been lifted. I deserve far better. No more settling, ever again. I know what I want and I’m going to take it.
Weaving in between the commuters on the crowded sidewalks on my walk home, I text Aria and tell her the deed is done. She sends back a gif of Rachel from friends screaming, “Finally!”