DITW 12-7: Canto XXVII (Patreon)

Josh didn’t answer, instead turning away and following his gaze, moving to the window to look down on the street.

Kimmy hung her head, realizing a scenario. “Devlin moved the meeting up. There is no meeting today. Is there?”

Josh didn’t answer, playing the forlorn fool, lost in spiritual reverie at the window.

She repeated herself. “Is there, Josh?”

“Damned if I know, Kimmy. I’m here.”

“You are,” she said. “Where you shouldn’t be.”

Now he turned, his face aggravated. “Why? Because this is your world? This is your world of high finance and foreign business dealings, and billion dollar clients, and fine wines and magnificent lunches?” He scowled, but before she could answer, he continued. “Your world of extravagant suites and Cayman vacations, and seven-thousand fucking dollar suits?” He grabbed his suit lapel and flashed the jacket at her. “I’m not allowed in this world. At least you don’t think so.”

“Bull shit,” she said. “You think I like this world?”

“I think you fucking love it, Kimmy. Are you crazy? Look at you. You’re in absolute glory.”

She put a fist to her cheek, staring aside toward the fine carpet. “You think I’m leaving you behind? Is that it?”

“Aren’t you? Aren’t you just stringing me along, placating me until something better comes along?”

She dropped her hand to her side, scoffing, showing him an expression of pure offense. “Josh. What is wrong with you? Why would you say something like that?”

“How is it not true, Kimmy?”

“Have I let you down? Haven’t I included you the whole way? I see you every night. I lay by your side in bed. I play games with you, the games you like. I brought you to Cayman, I... I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Josh’s head inclined, his eyes showing unsureness, his features betraying the wounds she’d caused but now defended.

She steadied herself, stood straighter. “If you spent the night with Devlin, how is that not betraying me?”

“How would it betray you?”

“Did you spend the night with him?”

“Why would you ask me that?”

“I don’t see you sleeping on Meyer’s couch with Sophie home. How would you explain that? And you weren’t in her bed. You didn’t come home. Where were you? Where did you sleep?”

“Were you at home?”

She said, “And the fact that you’re here. How did you know where to come? Who could have told you?”

“You wonder what else he told me.”

She chuckled in pure disbelief. “Why would you believe anything he told you?”

Josh shrugged, and she didn’t like his arrogant gesture or tone. “Why would I believe anything you tell me?”

Her brow lowered. “Because I know the truth, Josh. Devlin doesn’t. Devlin couldn’t.”

Josh raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “What is truth, anyway?”

“The truth is, you’ve ambushed me here where I’m supposed to be working, and your head’s been filled with who-knows-what by a guy who’s always treated you like shit.”

Josh’s mouth moved around, but he didn’t respond. She knew he was flirting with saying she treated him the same way. She stared at him, daring him to say such an untrue and hurtful thing.

After a long moment of saying nothing, she spoke. “You and your buddy Devlin brought me here to bully me, to push me around. You’re his lackey.”

Josh rubbed his chin, walked away and turned to the window again, rolling his head around on his neck. He said, “That’s not it at all.”

“He’s coming through that door, isn’t he? You’re his emcee, he’s the main act? And then what? What are you going to do to me then?”

Josh rubbed his face with both hands, then ran fingers through his hair. He turned to face her, his posture more open now, more submissive. “This isn’t some kind of intervention, if that’s what you’re thinking. That’s not what I’m here for.”

“If Devlin comes through that door, Josh, I swear to god...”

“Kimmy...” He paused before continuing, closing his eyes to gather his fleeting thoughts. “Whatever it is you’ve been doing, have you been doing it to hurt me?”

She steel-eyed him. “I don’t ever want to hurt you, Josh.”

“And that’s why you lie?”

She clucked her tongue, dismissed his argument with a wave, and turned to the table, beginning to pack up the things she’d laid out for the Benny Chan meeting. “This is so unfair, Josh. You sandbagging me like this. It’s not how you treat someone. This has Devlin written all over it.”

Behind her, quiet: “Stop, Kimmy. Stop.”

She ceased her chaotic packing and stood straight, crossing her arms, still showing Josh her back.

“Tell me you don’t want to hurt me.”

She faced him, uncrossing her arms. “I would never hurt you on purpose, Josh. I love you. I would do anything for you. I’m doing everything for you. I mean, I’m working toward something. Something for us. You said you trusted me.”

“You asked me to trust you.”

“And you don’t trust me?”

“You lie to me.”

“We’re back to where we started now, Josh.” She looked at the door again. “Is Devlin coming or not?”

Josh moved into the bedroom again and sat on the foot of the bed, twining his fingers together, hands clasped between his knees. He looked worn out and tired; the confident defiance he’d showed took a lot out of him. “Can you tell me why you did this to me?”

“What did I do to you?”

He chuckled and bit his lower lip—like he was biting his tongue, stopping himself from saying what he really wanted to say. “Pretend I know every lie you told me. Now, why did you do it?”

She crossed her arms. “You’re talking down to me.”

“I’m not,” he said, patting the bed next to him. “Sit with me and talk. You wanted to talk. Let’s talk.”

The seeking of companionship was a hopeful sign, and she responded. She joined him at the foot of the bed, both of them facing the table with Benny Chan’s contracts. They were quiet for a while.

Josh said, “I sandbagged you. I did. If I didn’t, you’d have a thousand lies ready for me.”

“What an awful characterization.”

“Isn’t it true?”

She sensed him looking at her and regarded him. “Are you trying to hurt me?”

His face softened. “No, Kimmy. I don’t want that. I want this to end.”

She was perplexed, reading too much into his words and worried he meant the marriage. “What is it you want ended?” She lost her nerve to keep their gazes connected, looking away in case she revealed the power he held.

“What you’re doing to me. Lying, deceiving, sneaking. Getting what you want and telling me it’s what I want.”

She regarded him again, studying him, assessing him, forcing her anger-pulled features to relax. “You think I’m selfish?”

“You’re not?”

“How about you, Josh? Would you like my psychoanalysis? Would you like me to break you down and ask you all the questions about how all the pieces fit together? I wouldn’t do that to you because I respect you. I respect your amazing gifts and I respect your flaws, too. I love all of you.”

“You think I’m wrong to question your flaws? To bring them out so we can look at them? I know you know they’re there. I can’t talk about them?” He gestured with both hands to the space in front of them. “They’re like the proverbial elephant in the room.”

She set her jaw. “Name my flaw.”

Josh didn’t hesitate. “You’re a manipulator.”

She palmed her forehead, not believing what she was hearing. “Wow, Josh. So, what? You hate me?”

“No. I let you do it. I let you manipulate me.”

“That’s your flaw? I’m a manipulator and you’re the victim? You’re presenting that as your flaw?”

“I have more than one flaw.”

She sighed and patted her slicked back hair and her bun. “You know, you came in here with your hands in your pockets and I was so happy to see you. I had no idea you were here to beat me up. It was strange at first, seeing you trying to be strong, putting your chin up like you weren’t afraid.”

“Because you don’t think I’m strong?”

“You’re not strong, Josh. You’re not. I’m strong. I’m the backbone of our marriage. You’re the heart.”

“You don’t think I’m strong? So I’m weak?”

“I think you’re perfect, Josh. You’re everything I want.” Her tone had become pleading.

“But I need to know my place?”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Josh,” she said, stood up and walked away, stopping to brace herself, hands on the back of one of the executive chairs. “I don’t want to fight with you. I love you.”

She listened to Josh stand and sigh. He came near her.

She said, “I don’t want to lie. I want to tell you the truth.”

“That’s not what I want.”

She turned to face him, leaning on the chair back. “It’s not?”

He looked away. “I couldn’t bear it. I’m afraid of what it might be.”

“Then how do you know they were lies at all?”

“You said I’m the heart. You’re the backbone and I’m the heart. That’s how I know.”

She chanced touching him again, and he didn’t stop her, but as she placed her hand on his cheek, his head turned, as though she’d delivered a slap in slow motion.

“If I love you, Josh, and you love me, and you don’t want to hear the truth, then where does that leave us?”

“Here in this hotel room,” he said, taking her hand from his cheek and holding it. “Trying to find out how we move forward.”

“I told you to trust me, but you don’t. And that’s okay. How do I prove it to you? How do I make you feel secure?”

He waited a few heartbeats, eyes flitting. Then: “Show me.”

“Show you I’m trustworthy?”

“Sure,” he said.

“I can do that. I want to do that.”

“And show me how you do it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Everything you did you did for me, is that right?”

“That’s right.”

“Then why hide it?”

Her eyes darted as she sought meaning in his cryptic words. She found meaning, but didn’t want to believe it. “What are you saying?” She feared she knew.

He dropped her hand and looked like he would walk away again, but his feet stayed planted. “I— I think you broke me. You know that? You know what I mean by broken?”

“Tell me.”

“Nothing works. I don’t know one thing from another anymore. You lie and I believe it. You tell the truth and I believe it. I’m your biggest defender, even when I know better. I’m like an eager public defender assigned the most guilty client and all I do is flood my perspective with their virtue. How else can I get up every day and appear in court with them unless I put on the world’s darkest sunglasses to blot out what’s right in front of me?”

“I’m not a criminal.”

“Are you guilty?”

She raised her chin. “I’ve lied.”

“You lied for my benefit. Do you hear how that sounds?”

“Yeah, Josh. Do you?”

“If it was for my benefit, where’s the benefit? Where’s my gold, where’s my treasure?”

“What more do you want?”

“I want what you owe me. You took so much from me, mortgaged little pieces of my trust again and again, and now I’m here for what you owe me.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head.

“I want relief, Kimmy. I want reprieve. I want all the pain that hounds me when I close my eyes to leave me alone. I want all the bad things you’ve done made right. I want your lies to make the truth real. Make it mine. Make it for me.”

She bowed her head, struggling to see the paths that led away from this point, believing—knowing—another man set this point in motion. These couldn’t be Josh’s words. “He doesn’t care about you, Josh. Did he make you think he did?”

Josh stayed firm. “Make it real.”

Now she imitated Josh’s own wounded chuckling, turning away from Josh and taking a step, head still bowed, rubbing her brow. “Not with him, Josh. Not with him. Anyone but him.”

“It would be meaningless.”

She turned again. “Are you really asking me this? Why on earth do you think you can ask me that?”

Still, Josh stayed firm, his eyes showing strength again, narrowed like what he would say carried significant weight. “You knew I wanted it before I wanted it. . . . Don’t you see your absolution?”