Crystal Lies - Melody Carlson [31]
Noticing my grocery store flowers still sitting in the juice pitcher in the sink, I remembered that I’d wanted to hunt down something to put them in. I knew I’d brought my crystal vase from home. It had been a gift from Geoffrey, something I’d almost left behind, but then, feeling sentimental, I’d decided to bring it along. Geoffrey had given this to me for our twenty-fifth anniversary last June. It was a lovely Waterford piece and had been filled with twenty-five perfect red roses—one for each year of our “perfect” marriage. One thing about Geoffrey: he always knew how to give perfect gifts, and he was never cheap about it, either.
He had also presented me with a brochure filled with glossy photos of sunny beaches and palm trees, promising me a trip to the Caribbean to commemorate our milestone. “Sorry, sweetheart. We’ll have to wait until this case is over,” he had explained over a lovely anniversary dinner at Sindalli’s. “But we can have a belated celebration this fall. Maybe by late September.” Naturally, I had agreed with him. When had I not agreed with him? Well, other than this thing with Jacob.
I rummaged around in the tiny linen closet right next to the bathroom and found the beautiful crystal vase. Looking out of place wedged between a package of toilet paper and some tile cleaner, the vase with all its cut-glass intricacies shimmered in the candlelight as I pulled it out and carried it into the living room. Although it was much too grand for this little apartment, still I put my grocery store flowers in it, then set the arrangement on the small secondhand coffee table in front of the couch. Such a lovely gift, a souvenir of a past that now seemed out of reach.
Had I been stupid to leave Geoffrey like that, to walk away from twenty-five years of marriage? Not that I’d meant to leave permanently. That had never been my actual goal. I think I had considered it to be more of a break, like a mental-health day, or week or month. I needed a time away from everything, a time for me to figure things out and to hopefully help Jacob. But what had I figured out, really? And how had I helped Jacob? The light from the candles grew blurry as my eyes suddenly filled with tears, and I questioned everything about myself. What had I done?
Did I think my absence would get Geoffrey’s attention? Had I subconsciously thought that he’d miss me so much he’d jump into his Porsche and come flying over here, that he’d fall on his knees and beg me to forgive him? That he’d promise to be the father Jacob needed, and he’d take me into his arms and swear to me that everything would be different from here on out? My shining knight on a perfect white horse? Wasn’t that how the fairy tales ended? Or at least those bachelor reality shows on TV?
I got a tissue and blew my nose. But I am forty-eight years old, I reminded myself, and old enough to know that the characters in fairy tales don’t necessarily live happily ever after. Right? But maybe I’d been wrong. Maybe I was the one who should’ve gone running back. Maybe I should’ve gotten down on my knees and apologized to him. After all, I was the one who had left. My own daughter had even told me as much. I paced back and forth in my now somewhat livable apartment. Had I been wrong?
Suddenly I felt a real sense of urgency. I imagined Geoffrey sitting alone in that big house, weary from a hard week at work—it was almost time for the city’s case to go to court, and he’d probably been working long, hard hours to get everything perfectly prepared. I envisioned him sitting by himself in the kitchen, which by now would be quite messy, eating a lukewarm microwave dinner and wearing a wrinkled shirt with a coffee stain on the front. Oh, I knew I was being overly dramatic, but I also knew better than anyone that Geoffrey was not the kind of man who could take care of himself. He didn’t even know