Page 57 of The Write Place

Alison’s giggle is comically void of any joy. I would probably laugh at it myself, but my heart has practically stopped in my chest. “Editor and fiancée,“ she corrects, and my heart falls straight through my chest to the floor. She reaches out to grab his hand, and he doesn’t curl his fingers around hers, but he lets her touch him. He lets her touch him.

Daniel slides his eyes reluctantly to her, steely and devoid of all warmth. “Ex-fiancée,“ he clarifies, finally wrenching his hand from hers.

She rolls her eyes and snaps, “Please, Daniel, stop being ridiculous.”

He presses his lips into a tight line, as if determined not to make a scene, and all at once, I can see it—the way she made him feel inferior, the way she shut him down and shut him up, the way she used her connection to him to climb up the publishing ladder. I can see her obsession with image and success taking over their entire relationship from the very start, with her stuffing him into a neat little package until he wasn’t even sure who he was or what he was worth anymore.

But then I see another side of it—everything he left out when he let me believe his ex and his current editor were two different, awful people, never telling me his ex was ever his editor in the first place, all the private phone calls and text messages he took from her over the past few weeks, the massive ring she still wears on her finger, the “loose ends” he said he needed to tie up in New York before coming back here for good. And I see him in front of me, right now, not protesting or correcting this woman in any way, not telling her who I am or what I’ve become to him. My mouth goes dry, and I absentmindedly start rubbing my thumb against Ellie’s ring to keep my hand from shaking.

I see Jenny coming toward us, her eyes raking Alison up and down. I shift my eyes to her and flash her what I hope is a subtle “help me” look. It must not be as subtle as I hope, because Daniel sees it and looks between us, clearing his throat as if he’s been knocked out of a trance.

“Mac,” he starts, and his voice sounds a little desperate, but I shake my head sharply as Jenny approaches.

“Hey Mac. Can you come help us with the AV stuff?” Jenny asks too-sweetly, offering me a way out of what is quickly becoming the second-worst conversation of my entire life.

“Yeah, sure,” I respond, then turn to Alison and Daniel. “Excuse me.” I move past them, but Daniel reaches out to grab my wrist. I halt, and I snap my eyes to him.

“They don’t need you to set up the AV stuff,” he hisses.

“What do you know about what they do and don’t need me to do?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. He must sense that I’m about to blow up, because he drops my wrist like it has burned him and lets me pass. I think I catch a smug expression from Alison, but I’m too busy fleeing this scene to be sure. Something indeed tells me Daniel was right and Jenny doesn’t really need my help as she stalks quickly off the stage and up the center aisle to the back of the auditorium to the sound booth. She pulls the door open, shoving me inside and closing the door.

“Who was that?“ Jenny hisses as soon as the door is closed, but someone clears their throat behind us. We both whirl around to see Ben sitting in the sound booth, a wireless headset over one ear.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say to him, and he has the good sense to look sheepish.

“I’m running the sound booth because you’re supposed to be on stage,” he explains, and I sigh.

“We’ll deal with you later,“ Jenny snaps, then faces me.

I groan. “That is Alison West, definitely Daniel’s editor and possibly Daniel’s fiancée,“ I explain.

It’s not often that I see Jenny completely speechless. Her jaw drops and her eyes go wide, and in any other situation, I’d probably laugh at how much she looks like a fish out of water.

“Hold on,” she says when she’s regained her voice. “Evans is engaged?”

“She says ‘is.’ He says ‘was.’ Either way, I was not aware.”

“He bought her that ring?“ Jenny asks, impressed and peering out of the tiny sound booth window toward the stage. I follow her eyes, and I can, indeed, see Alison’s ring glinting obscenely in the lights. She is saying something to Ken, her body language suggesting she is unhappy, and Ken is starting to look defensive. Daniel is also onstage now, squinting in our direction against the harsh stage lights, not listening to a word of their argument.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling tears sting my eyes. “Jenny. Focus.”

“That thing could sink a ship,” she whispers, dazzled.

“Jenny Green. Focus, please. What am I going to do?”

This snaps her out of her reverie, but she can only shrug at me helplessly.

“Why would you need to do anything?” Ben asks. Jenny gives him an exasperated look.

“Because Mac and Daniel fell in love, and this kind of ruins things. Keep up, Ben.” She circles her hand at him, urging him to catch up, and he winces at me sympathetically.

“That’s a strong word,” I protest, but Jenny waves her hand to stop me.

“Gotta keep it simple for the Neanderthal,” she says, and to his credit, Ben shrugs as if it’s fair. Then, he looks up toward the stage.

“Well, I hate to rush you, but you’d better figure it out soon, because he’s coming this way,” he warns, and we all turn toward the stage to see Daniel making his way toward us, slowly but with determination, as if he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself.

“Shit,” I breathe. “I don’t want to see him. I don’t want anything to do with him right now.”