Chapter 62

ARTHUR

When Doris left, I felt like she took my heart with her. I stared at the door she had closed, not gently, but not loudly either. Wondering how I had gone from being on top of the world to feeling like my whole world was falling apart.

I drank a scotch, and I slammed the glass down on my expensive bar table. "Dammit," I said to myself. "This is Doris’s fault, not mine. Why do I feel guilty?"

I still held a hand wrapped around the glass in a death grip. If I squeezed it any tighter, the glass would probably shatter.

I ran on the treadmill for five minutes, took a cold shower, and went to bed early. There was nothing else I could do tonight.

DORIS

I asked Nina if she was available to meet. She suggested we walk and talk because she wanted to make sure she was in the best shape possible for her flirtatious plan with Nathan.

As soon as we met up, I started talking and talking.

"So that’s what happened," I said. "We had a big fight. I overreacted. I stormed out. And we haven't talked since."

"Well," Nina said, drawing the word out, "you knew this was a possibility. I hear what you’re saying, but it could’ve been worse."

"How?" I asked, hating the weak, pitiful sound in my voice.

Nina shrugged. "Arthur could’ve broken up with you for good or vice versa. That would have been a major tragedy."

The way she says it, with humor, like it would be a tragedy on the scale of world economic collapse, made me laugh.

We stopped at a traffic light and waited for a bus and a daredevil bike messenger to pass.

"I need a plan," I said.

"Well, you need to apologize, gravel, and explain again why you did it."

I sighed. “I know.”

"If I lose everything," I said, a major tremble in my voice. "If I lose Mia—"

Nina interrupted me. "Ha! That's unlikely. I wouldn’t worry so much about what's not going to happen. You should focus on repairing this, considering you were the one who started it. It’s up to you."

After our walk, I went back to my apartment with a renewed resolve to fix the strained relationship between Arthur and me.

“A heartfelt apology and putting all my feelings on the table for him will do it,” I said to myself. “If I can just explain everything and let him know how much I love him and care, we can repair this.”

I mentally practiced the speech, the words of compassion and declaration of true love that would lay me bare and vulnerable and clearly explain how I felt.

I wrote, refined, edited my speech until it was perfect. I practiced what I was going to say over and over as I made my way to the penthouse.

As I stood outside Arthur's apartment, my heart racing, I took a deep breath to steady myself. I couldn't delay any longer—I had to confront him. I knocked on the door, anticipation coursing through my veins. The door swung open, revealing Arthur's stern face, and I could sense the tension in the air.

"I need to talk to you, Arthur," I said, my voice trembling slightly.

He looked at me, his expression guarded. "Now isn't a good time, Doris," he replied, his voice devoid of warmth.

"But it's important," I insisted, desperately hoping he would give me a chance.

His phone rang as we stood in the hallway, locked in a silent battle of wills. Arthur glanced at the screen, his brows furrowing with concern.

His urgent conversation confirmed my fears that we wouldn't be able to talk even though I felt full to bursting with my apology and confession of love.

"What is it, Arthur?" I asked, my voice tinged with disappointment.

He sighed, his eyes apologetic. "I have to leave, Doris. It's an emergency. I can't postpone this trip. Essential business in Dubai and The Maldives. I have to go right now."

My heart sank as I realized our conversation would have to wait.

I struggled to hold back tears, the timing of it all feeling like a cruel twist of fate. "But we need to talk. I have so much to say, to explain," I pleaded, desperate for him to understand.

Arthur's gaze softened for a brief moment. "I know you do, Doris. But not right now. I'll be gone for at least a week, maybe more, and won't have the opportunity or often even the ability to communicate."

The weight of his words settled on my shoulders, and a sense of despair washed over me.

A week felt like an eternity, an insurmountable obstacle standing between us and resolution.

"What does this mean for us, Arthur?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Arthur hesitated, his gaze filled with conflict. "I don't know, Doris. I'm hurt. I know you explained yourself once, but I’m going to need to hear it again before I can really get it. I’m one big knot of stress.”

Arthur looked at me, his gaze harsh. “I need time to think. Maybe this separation will give us clarity."

I nodded, understanding the truth in his words, so similar to what I had said when I stupidly stormed out of the penthouse on Thursday.

The hallway felt suffocating, the air heavy with unspoken emotions. "Take care of yourself, Arthur," I said, my voice choked with unshed tears.

He reached out and gently touched my cheek, a fleeting moment of tenderness. "You too, Doris. We'll talk when I return."

I watched him hurry away, frozen to the spot for a long while, disappointed.

As I descended in the elevator, the weight of the missed opportunity settled upon me. I walked out of the building into a sudden downpour.

I was left standing on the sidewalk, watching Arthur's fancy chauffeured car disappear into the distance, knowing that our journey toward healing would have to wait.

I buried my head in my hands. The worst thing was he didn’t hug me or kiss me goodbye. This made me wonder if our relationship was damaged beyond repair.

It couldn’t be. I wouldn’t let it.

By Wednesday, the fact that I hadn’t heard from Arthur was only adding to my overall worry. He said communication would be hard, but what type of place made it impossible? Internet was available all over the world. He could have dropped me a two-sentence email, right?

Maybe he just needed space.

Wednesday afternoon, it occurred to me I could stay at the penthouse even though Arthur wasn’t there. I had keys, the security code, and all access permission to go past the front desk.

“Hi, sweet girl,” I called out as I entered.

“Mommy!” Mia said and ran to me. I would never get over how good that felt.

"You’re here!"

"I am." I looked at the babysitter. "You can go now for tonight. I’ll be here tomorrow and Friday from 5 PM on. So you just need to pick Mia up from school and stay until I get here."

Once the babysitter left, I looked at my daughter, I mean, Mia.

"What do you want to do tonight?”

"I want to watch Frozen."

"Oh no!" I said, dramatically putting my hands on my cheeks. "Not again!"

Mia laughed.

"How about we watch The Little Mermaid instead?" I asked. "You know it has some of our favorite songs."

"OK."

The next morning, I had a chance to make Mia breakfast and walk her to school.

In the evening, we went to a special gymnasium for kids where they had kid-size bicycles and a bouncy house.

Later that night, Mia sat in my lap as we watched a TV show I had never heard of before. During the break, Mia looked up at me. "I love you, Mommy."

"I love you too, sweet girl, more than you’ll ever know."

Friday, we spent the evening playing games in virtual reality that were age-appropriate and gave us a lot of exercise.

On Saturday, I decided to take Mia to Long Island to a seafood festival in Ocean Neck.

Just like always, having Mia with me was wonderful. I hoped this time with the two of us strengthened our mother-daughter bond.

The thought that my relationship with Arthur might be over stuck me like a needle in the heart, but maybe, just maybe, whether Arthur and I could move forward after this or not, he would still let me get a touch with Mia.

That would be a blessing.

And I needed all the blessings I could get.