“Now it is.”
****
She closed the conference room door, clicked on the tabletop sound blocker, and punched up Elliot’s number on her phone. He clicked in on the first ring.
“Are you coming back?” His voice was heavy, like he’d been carrying loads of coal with it.
“No.”
He sighed, long. She pictured him rubbing his morning-stubble chin, like on Sundays when he was trying to work out why she didn’t want to go see Saw 8. “Nothing’s changed.”
“You lied.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Sure.”
He paused, took in a breath. “But you liked it.”
“I did. It was a thrill to be so public. But I counted on you to protect me. You changed the rules.”
“It was a mistake.”
“Right.”
Silence, and all her fears were answered. He did do it on purpose. Then a shuffling on the other side, as if he was shooing people away. She heard a door close. “Maybe. I don’t know. I didn’t plan to hurt you.”
“You don’t even like your stepdad, but you invited him?”
“He had a standing invitation, but he’d never taken me up on it before. And he won’t again, unless he wants another cracked tooth. This party was a comedy of errors. More like a tragedy. But Em, I... I love you.”
He hit someone, defending her? She hardened her heart; it did not obey. But her mouth did. “Love means listening.”
“I’m listening now.”
“Great. Glad to be of service to your next fiancée.”
“Don’t be that way. Please, what can I do?”
She thought a moment, watching the sun warm the chop on the water and the shiny commuter snake clogging the BayBridge. She pressed her palm into the glass of the window, as if to pull warmth from the sun. Here she was in another windowed room, another fishbowl. If she married him, she always would be. Anyone could see. “You put me out there, El, and let people make fun of me.”
“They thought you were beautiful.”
“They made me feel crass.”
“I’m listening,” he said. “You felt crass.”
“Right. Like I’d just shared something with the world that I only ever want to share with you.”
“You felt exposed.”
“Betrayed. I wanted to step out of my comfort zone, but I guess this was a step too far.”
“I see.” He paused, and she felt the familiar tug on her heart. I want to hear what he has to say. I always do. I love how he discovers things by talking them through. I’ll miss that.
But this silence dragged, and she realized he had nothing to say. She’d been clear, and cogent, and, for once, irrefutable.
“Sorry, El, I don’t think you can talk your way out of this one.”
He groaned. “Will you see me today, tonight? After work?”
“Maybe in a couple days.”
“OK. Ah, one more thing.” He stopped. “You coded right through the morning?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“But I saw the paper.”
He made a choking sound. “Switch, Em. Two clicks.”
She punched up her phone’s security app and clicked two clicks across the bandwidth, cutting the call in case anyone else was listening. “I’m here,” she said.
“You know she had worse they could have printed. She was after me, not you.”
“How?”
“Drone camera. You know, the project I helped fund two years ago.”
“Serves you right.”
“Doesn’t it just. But in all those hundreds of frames, all those angles, she didn’t recognize you. Nobody did.”
Emily went silent. It wasn’t his fault he was a little bit kinkier than her. It wasn’t his fault that she could be timid and fly to the worst conclusion and enact a final solution.
And it wasn’t his fault when an experiment went bad. Or partly bad.
And man, hadn’t most of it been fantastic?
Had she overreacted? Run when she should have stayed and talked? She needed to get some space, but Elliot did deserve some sort of explanation. He didn’t deserve an email with one line.
“I’m sorry.”
“What is it, really, my love?”
She went silent again. She couldn’t say. She could hear his shallow breaths. He wasn’t going to hang up. He’d wait her out.
She screwed up her courage. “I liked it,” she said in a whisper.
“You liked it.” His voice was just as soft.
“More than I should.”
“You’re surprised at yourself.”
“Disgusted.” She frowned as she said the word.
“Really?”
“No” came out without her permission. But it was the right word.