Do I deserve this?
Gina would never admit as much, but she has always felt that their marriage is unique, that she and Bobby care for each other in a way that few other couples do. Theirs is a healthy, stable love: they enjoy spending time together, they rarely quarrel. Bobby makes her laugh; Gina makes him feel special. How many times has Bobby arrived home, walked towards her, and begun slow-dancing while singing Chet Baker’s “Time After Time”? How often have they stolen glances at each other and mouthed I love you even though there were other people in the room?
She had assumed their happiness would last forever.
Caroline once said it isn’t normal for a woman to want to be around her husband as much as Gina wants to be around Bobby. Whenever she packs sandwiches and takes them to the Manhattan office so they can sneak in some time together during lunch, Caro rolls her eyes and accuses Gina of being “too in love for her own good.” Gina laughs along. If missing her husband makes her weird, then she’ll happily label herself a freak.
Except…
It has been a while since Bobby slow-danced with her. And when was the last time she went to his office for lunch? It was back when Alma Boots still hadn’t turned a profit, so… two years ago, possibly three.
Gina’s mind takes her back to a day, over two years ago, when she had been visiting Bobby in the city and Calan called her crying, saying he didn’t want to go to school ever again, sending her running out of the office. It wasn’t the first time Calan had been bullied at school. Gina had wanted to take their son to see a psychologist. She and Bobby had gotten into a huge fight. He thought that bringing in professional help would only make Calan think this was a bigger deal than it was. Gina didn’t agree. Calan’s obsession with superhero stories, with the comforting simplicity of their narratives, was a cry for help.
Since therapy wasn’t an option, Gina had tried to create a sanctuary in the real world. And she had, but it had been just for the two of them: Wednesday night dinners, weekly movie afternoons, trips to Comic Con and Madame Tussauds. Bobby had never participated in any of these activities. He’d been too busy, too uninterested in Calan’s escapist hobbies.
Another memory: Gina and Calan fleeing to the Sag Harbor house almost two years ago, in the fall, when a heatwave invaded the town. Bobby hadn’t joined them, not even on the weekend, citing his workload as an impediment. Now, Gina wonders if it’s because he’d felt left out.
Had Bobby turned to Eva Stone because Gina gave Calan too much attention, leaving Bobby with none?
But, no, That can’t be. Things had gotten better over the past year. Gina is now reliving the day when they recited their vows to each other, fourteen years after their wedding day, in the privacy of this very bedroom. Bobby had been the one to initiate it, the one who, out of the blue, had gotten down on one knee and renewed his intention to love and honor her for all eternity. The way he looked at her that day had made her feel lucky: to be loved, to be adored.
Now, Bobby is leaning forward in his chair, looking like a crumpled sheet of paper. She wants to punch him. To yell at him. To throw him out of the house. But she also wants to kiss him. To hold him. To say that Eva Stone won’t be able to make him happy. Gina is the only one who knows him well enough for that. Bobby has only had one steady girlfriend before Gina and—
“She looks like Penelope,” Gina says. A couple of days ago, Gina had looked Penelope up online: she is a literary agent in the city. She’d been featured in Vanity Fair—the article described her as a powerhouse in the publishing industry and had highlighted her happy marriage to some big-shot finance guy, Quentin Something or Other, and the close relationship she had with her son, Teague. If Bobby had married Penelope instead of Gina, would he have cheated on her, too?
“What?”
“Eva. She looks like your ex, Penelope.”
“What?” Bobby shakes his head. “No, she doesn’t.”
Gina takes a deep breath. “Just tell me the truth. Please.” Gina thinks back to the last ASC meeting and how everyone had let it slip that they absolutely thought Bobby had done it. They had wanted her to forgive him, but no one thought he was innocent. She’s a fool for thinking otherwise. “Just admit it.”
Bobby is quiet for a moment. “I was never involved with Eva, not romantically, not sexually, not intimately.” He delivers this with both surety and exhaustion. “I can’t admit to something I didn’t do.”
Gina lets out a grunt that is more animal than human. “I can’t do this.” She rubs her temples.
“I need you to believe me.” His face is twisted in an expression of pure agony. She can see the water rising in his eyes. “I can bear everything except losing you. I’m not lying, Jib. I’m not.”
Jib. It sounds like Gina, sort of. A nickname she adores. It’s special, inimitable—adjectives she has used to describe their love. Now, it makes her feel gullible, naive.
There is no way this is true.
There is no way this isn’t true.
Gina wipes her face with her palm. “Calan is taking Malaika to the Pink October Fundraiser.” Her tone is flat and distant.
Bobby blinks. “What?”
“Our son has a date to a ball,” Gina says, and when she gets to the word ball, her voice cracks
