who least deserved it.
So, naturally, Ethan ruined it.
“Of course you don’t understand,” he retorted, in that superior voice of his that she’d used to think was cute. Because it reminded her how smart he was, how accomplished, how successful. Today she just thought he sounded like a dick. “You don’t know what it’s like to truly love someone like this. I don’t expect you to. But the problem is, you hiding out in Italy is making things awkward for us.”
She ran her tongue over her teeth. “What a nightmare. Heaven forbid you feel awkward.”
If he heard her sarcasm, he ignored it. “There’s friction at work. You know what it’s like in the firm when there’s any hint of scandal. And your sister is hounding me day and night about selling the condo.” He let out a baffled sort of laugh. “It doesn’t make any sense. Why would you want to live here?”
“I hardly know where to begin with any of that.”
“You need to come home, Maya. Sulking in Italy isn’t solving anything. We need to put on a good front for the partners, as soon as possible, before they start jumping to unfortunate conclusions about our dependability.”
Maya was shaking her head at the darkness on the other side of the window before her.
“That sounds like a you problem, if I’m honest.”
“Don’t be childish, please. It demeans us both. I’m talking about our careers.”
“And somehow, I don’t think I’m the one demeaning anything. What good front do I need to put on? I’m the one who was left at the altar.” She made her voice as bland as possible. “All I have to do is put on a brave face and I’m the heroine of this story. Your road is a little rougher, I’m afraid.”
“I’m aware of the optics,” he snapped at her. “That’s why we need to do this together.”
“The last thing we did together was plan a wedding. You’ll understand if I’m less interested in joint projects from here on out.”
“This is what I’m talking about. This childishness. Who is that helping?”
“You’re going to have to rehabilitate your image on your own,” Maya said coolly. “But if it makes you feel any better, I’m sure you’ll quickly discover that no one really cares that much about your personal life. I can assure you that I certainly don’t. In fact, I would prefer to never hear about your personal life or your deep and abiding love, ever again.”
“I knew you wouldn’t understand.” He sounded lofty then. Like some kind of martyr to love.
It was maddening.
Maya’s temples were pounding, and she pressed the fingers of her free hand against her forehead, urging herself not to give in to the wave of temper.
“Here’s the thing, Ethan. You and I both know that the only thing you will ever love is yourself. Luckily, Lorraine is more or less the same. And I’m sure you’ll do wonderfully together.”
“I already told you I won’t tolerate your nasty asides.”
“I think we both know that you don’t care about me, my feelings or anything else, or none of this would have happened.”
A funny thing happened when she said it that way. Out loud. Stark and matter-of-fact. And to him. Especially when he didn’t argue. It put the years they’d spent together into order. It highlighted all the things she’d told herself were just a part of a long-term relationship—one that greatly resembled her parents’ businesslike arrangement.
I don’t want to be my parents, she admitted to herself. They were as cold as a Canadian winter, frozen straight through, and she’d tasted fire now. She’d burned alive—and she liked it.
She felt free and sad at the same time. Unmoored. “Let’s be clear about why you’re really stonewalling my sister. It would be inconvenient for you to relocate. That’s why you don’t want to leave the condo. Not because it has any sentimental value to you and not even because you’re trying to hurt me, somehow. Because you would have to care to do that.”
Ethan sighed. “If I’m such a sociopath, why did you want to marry me?”
“A question I’m sure I’ll spend the rest of my life grappling with,” she shot right back. “But today, happily, that’s one more thing that’s not my problem. If you want the condo, you need to buy me out. And if I were you, I would think long and hard about lowballing me, as I know you’re going to try to do.”
“This is ridiculous. I’m not going to play these adolescent games with you in the middle of the night. We’ll talk when you get back from Italy.”
And impossibly, laughably, he hung up.
He hung up on her.
For a long moment, Maya didn’t move. She sat where she was, her mobile in her hand, staring at the screen in disbelief.
But then something shifted inside her.
It had something to do with the glorious way Charlie had taught her how to surrender. To move into the things she feared or wanted, or both at the same time—and discover who she really was on the other side of it.
Her heart kicked at her at that, but she couldn’t think about him yet. Not quite yet.
She thought about what she knew instead. All those grays, the black-and-whites and Ethan in the middle of it, so certain that she would do as he wanted.
Because she always had.
She had been more dedicated to the idea of their perfect life together than she had been to him, personally. They had rarely fought, because there was nothing to fight about. Maya had always done that math and come up with the same conclusion. Keeping their busy, glossy life running smoothly had been her priority. Always. If she hadn’t been sure about something, Ethan would argue her into it. He would sit her down, lay out his argument and treat her like a recalcitrant jury.
And she had accepted that. She had enjoyed it, even. If asked, she would have said that it was one of the things she loved about their relationship. They were so logical. So rational. Even when things got emotional, they managed to talk their way to an equitable solution.
Things she hadn’t done with Ethan, for example, included yelling at him in the street. Engaging in sexual acts in public when anyone might happen upon them at any time. She had never begged Ethan for anything.
Ethan had never made her come over and over, ignoring her when she said she couldn’t and making her body do things she’d never imagined it could.
Again and again.
It was as if Ethan was a cold, gray rain. And Charlie was sunlight.
And there was no pretending, now, that she didn’t know the difference between the two.
Ethan wanted her to come back to Canada so he could argue her into compliance with whatever rational, self-serving plan he had in his head. About how Maya would slip into the role of ambassador for Ethan’s relationship with Lorraine, smoothing over all the rough edges socially and professionally, and making it all okay. Ushering him into the future he wanted, just with someone other than Maya at his side.
Would she have done it? If she hadn’t met Charlie, would she simply have tucked her tail between her legs and run back home to do Ethan’s bidding now?
But she already knew the answer, nauseated as it might make her.
She was a Martin. And Martins did not behave irrationally. They were not motivated by emotion. They did what was expected of them and, whenever possible, exceeded those expectations.
She swiped through to her parents’ most recent message and lifted the phone to her ear again.
“Everyone is sympathetic, of course,” came her mother’s