The line is silent. Why isn’t he saying anything? I just told him that I wanted to be there with him, and he’s saying nothing.
“Hello?” Is he even still listening?
“I don’t know what to say. I miss you, too. But—”
“But what?” I huff. “You wanted me to come down here so I could work on the wedding plans and my show. Well, I can tell you no wedding plans are getting done. I spend half my time helping Emmie with the baby or the gallery.”
“So tell her you can’t,” he suggests.
“Why don’t you want me to come home?” I ask, annoyed by his reaction and not wanting to share my true motivation.
“That’s not it at all. I just think it’s better for you if you stick it out a few more weeks,” he continues.
“I can’t. I need to come home,” I insist.
He sighs heavily.
“What?” I huff.
“Nothing.”
“No, that was a pretty big sigh for it to be nothing,” I argue.
“We just rented out that studio space. Why wouldn’t you have told me this while I was there?”
“Oh, so this is about some rent you paid for a place. I see.”
“No, don’t do that. You know I don’t care about the money. It’s … it doesn’t make any sense. You were fine when I left, and now, it’s suddenly an emergency for you to get back to New York.” I’m not happy with his answer. In fact, the more we talk, the more I want to reach through the phone and strangle him.
“Jesus, just forget it,” I snap. Leave it to Henry to dig deeper.
“Don’t shut down on me.” Ugh, I hate when he says that, because usually because he’s right.
“What’s going on with you?” I demand, turning the microscope away from me.
“Huh? What are you talking about?”
I want to hang up. This is not the conversation I planned on having when I answered the phone. I wish I hadn’t even mentioned coming home at this point. Fighting with Henry makes me feel terrible, and it’s honestly the last thing I need right now. “Never mind,” I grumble.
“You can’t just throw a grenade out there and walk away,” he says. “What do you mean, what’s going on with me? I don’t understand. What have I done wrong?”
“It’s nothing. Forget I said anything,” I request, trying to dismiss the comment.
“No, damn it, Paige! You always do this. You can’t put something out there and just let it linger. Explain what you mean.”
“Don’t yell at me.”
“I’m not yelling,” he insists, calming his tone.
“Well,” I begin. “Maybe you’re not yelling, but you’re making me really uncomfortable.”
“Then just tell me what you meant,” he presses.
“Fine. God, I don’t know why you always have to push me so much. But if you want to know, I’ll tell you.”
“Please, do.”
“Every time we talk it seems like you’re more and more distracted. It’s like you could care less that I’m gone. I’m starting to think you prefer it that way.”
“Are you serious? Am I the only one who was there last week? I thought we had an amazing time.”
“Yes, we did, but—now, when I tell you I want to come home, it’s pretty obvious you don’t even want me there.”
“Do you really think that?” he asks gently.
I sit silent, thinking about his question. I don’t believe it. I know he loves me, and I know he’d rather I be at home with him. I also know he just wants what’s best for me, and that’s why he’s pushing me to stay. But on some level, it infuriates me that his desire to not be away from me isn’t overwhelming his desire for me to succeed. Selfishly, I want his world to stop when I’m not there. Granted, then I would probably think he was clingy. Damn it, I don’t know what I want.
“Well?” Henry asks again.
“No,” I admit. “I just can’t do all of this without you. It’s too much.”
“Then how about we hand some of the wedding details off to Grandmother. I could care less what the wedding looks like, as long as you’re there with me.”
I feel warmth envelop me at his words. I don’t know why I freak out and try to make a mess of things all the time. He will always love me, and I him. “Yeah, that might be good,” I agree.
“How about you give it another week, and if you want to come home after that, then we’ll get you on a plane right away.”
“All right,” I relent. I can do a week.
“Paige?” I hear Emmie’s voice call out as she steps in through the front door. She’s carrying a plate of food; this has become our routine in recent days.