Page 8 of Unravel Me

“I don’t understand Audrey, what did you do?”

Of course, by default, it’s my fault.

I quickly rehash the events. Not the part about the sex phone call of course, that would be too humiliating. I tell them all they need to know. That Jackson was an unfaithful man, and he admitted it, and there were no intentions to rectify the relationship. I made it clear it was unforgivable in my book, and my mother nodded, swallowing hard. My father on the other hand is stoic. For a moment, I wasn’t even sure he was still listening.

“This puts me in a very uncomfortable situation. You know how involved Elson Enterprises is with The Tippins Group and—”

I bite my tongue, fighting the tears back, fighting the sob violently rippling through my body. My father learned I was betrayed, and I’m clearly shaken; and all he can think about is the business implications.

I compose my face, nonetheless, swallowing hard several times. “Dad…Jackson made it very clear this would stay under wraps. You now see what kind of man Jackson really is…it’s up to your discretion if you want to do business with someone like him,” I add harshly, angry it has to be said at all.

My father bobs his head, though his face stays strained. Anyone else would be shocked that this is how my parents would handle a broken engagement, but I was numb to it. After all, this was the Elson way.

Everything was transactional, everything was business.

If Jackson didn’t come from a family like mine, I would’ve questioned his intentions with me, but when we met five years ago, I already knew who he was, and he already knew of me. Beyond the surface level, I believed he was the kind of man I was supposed to end up with. Marrying him would ensure I kept the deep-seated legacy going. He came from great wealth and power; he understood business and built an ego long before he was old enough to understand what that even meant. Marrying him meant things wouldn’t change for me. I’d live a life just like my mother had and her mother. Jackson was the perfect match. It didn’t matter if I never had butterflies with him or if we rarely spent more than a few days together in a row; he checked the boxes on paper. That’s what mattered to my parents. Love was not mandatory for a successful marriage to them.

“This is very unfortunate, and I know you must be devastated right now,” my mother adds, almost as an afterthought. “I will work on the correspondence to the guests. In your condition, you will be too emotional. This needs to be concise and—”

“Handled with utmost privacy and care,” I finished my mother’s sentence. “Thanks,” I add through gritted teeth, but they don’t notice.

“Have you seen a write up on assets?” my father asked, and my lips parted, eyes furrowed, unsure what he even meant. Annoyed, he continued, leaning closer to the iPhone screen. “The house, Audrey. Who will get the house in Forest Hills?”

Burn it down. I don’t care. That’s what I wanted to say.

“I don’t know Dad, we haven’t discussed it. It’s in his name, so I’m assuming him.”

My mother clucks her tongue like it’s despicable for me to not have an answer.

But that was the last thing I wanted to think about. How could I live in a house where we had planned a future together? What would I do in an eight-thousand square foot home by myself? Was I supposed to just walk through the kitchen and pretend I hadn’t thought about Christmas parties with Jackson or which rooms would make the perfect nursery? Now, it all seems like a silly dream. Like I was just daydreaming to escape the truth in front of me. Deep down, I think I knew Jackson was never the man I thought he was. He just knew how to play the part long enough to keep feeding me slivers of hope.

“I believe this week also marks five years at work, correct?” my father asks, jarringly changing the subject like this was another run of the mill conversation for us. All I can do is bobble my head, while chewing my lip.

“It’s time for a promotion, then. You’re nearly twenty-seven, you don’t want to be mid-level forever. Ed’s a smart guy, but you need to assert yourself and take what you deserve. Elson’s are not doormats. Remember that.”

My boss and father were old friends, fraternity brothers from Brown. The only thing more disappointing to my father than this marriage not happening was that I hadn’t followed in his footsteps and attended his Ivy League alma mater. My brother, Andrew, had of course. We were four years past that now, but it’s hard to not see all the disappointments add up like tallies on my skin.

We end the call moments later. While logistically it appears everything will be taken care of, everything will be okay, and I will keep going on the path I have been set on from birth; a deeply unsettled feeling falls over me.

Because this life I’ve been conditioned to live no longer feels like a good plan.

Or maybe it never really had.

Chapter six

Audrey

Ididn’t sleep well last night. The cream-colored Egyptian cotton sheets I picked out for our apartment a year ago felt like they were strangling me, and as the elevator climbed to my office on the eighth floor I nervously adjusted my collar until I was pretty sure I’d permanently stretched out the shirt. I pretended to be busy with something important on my phone as I walked past reception and into the safety of my office; a tiny gray room that smelled like synthetic air freshener and was void of natural light. At least it had a door that shut.

And the moment I was alone, I kicked off my heels and dropped down into the leather swivel chair at my desk, already mentally spent.

My shirt’s too tight around my neck, my skirt feels itchy, and I forgot my emotional support water bottle in my kitchen. Not to mention my evaluation with my boss is in three minutes—not nearly enough time to run across the street for the cappuccino my body so desperately needs.

Trying to find the positives, I think about what I can cross off my long mental to-do list. Both Penny and my parents worked on canceling the engagement party and informing the guests. God bless Penny, who also asked that no one reach out to me right now. Even if she hadn’t requested that, I knew I wouldn’t be hearing from the Tippins family. Surely, I was public enemy number one. Jackson had probably spun some tale, casting the blame on me.

I was just a pawn in his life, nothing more.

It was a miracle I had arrived at work looking half-polished, with a fresh blowout and dewy face, because I was reminded, yet again, by the alert on my phone for my meeting that life goes on. Even with a shattered heart, I had business to attend to.