CARL
"Can we finally talk now, Alma?"
I was standing so close to her that every nerve in my body recognized it. My body tried too hard to be still while my heart pounded away in my chest as though it were in a race. Breathing was a myth in which Alma was involved. Her sweet cologne hovered in the air like a rainbow, collecting every part of the room there was.
I had made another shitty move with that article news, but if it led her to me like this, I couldn't guarantee that I wasn't going to do it again. Just seeing her, basking in her graceful presence was enough to fill me with sufficiency, and my head had gradually started to go blank.
Could she sense my anxiety or how I was desperate to do everything correctly, from the way I stood to every single syllable I uttered? I could jinx a lot of other aspects of my life, but not this one. Alma's brows pinched together, and she wore a disbelieving expression like I'd asked her to wrestle a lion. Okay, maybe talking was too much to ask, but it seemed like the other thing that could help me right now, so I took a leap of faith and repeated the question. "Can we talk?"
Alma scoffed, stepping away from me as her eyes shot daggers. It was hurtful how a pair of eyes could carry that much emotion. Hate, disgust, annoyance, everything! I saw it, and it killed me a little more. My defense was weakened, and then I remembered I wasn't even supposed to have one in the first place. Alma was the only one, in this situation, who could get defensive.
"You want to talk?"
I nodded, pursing my lips before smacking up a response. "I do. Look, that speech was...stupid of me. It was the dumbest thing I'd ever thought to do, Alma, but because of you, I just...lost it. I knew we needed to talk, and you wouldn't even say a thing to me since you got back. It is hurtful and-" I paused, feeling no better than a little girl for much vulnerability I'd just left out. "So, please, just give me a minute to talk to you!"
Alma was laughing again, as expected, and all I noticed was how beautiful she looked with her eyes squinted and lips stretched. Funny, I didn't even feel like the subject of mockery there. I just...wanted to watch her. What the hell was wrong with me!?
Suddenly, her gaze darkened, and my stomach churned. "If you think I came here to speak to you, then you must be gravely mistaken, Carl," she snapped. "Quit being unreasonable and stop snooping around. I mean, how much of a bastard are you going to become? Do you not have any shame?! Why would you fucking stalk a little kid just to make a point? That is so dumb of you!"
"Stalk? What are you talking about?"
"Are you going to act clueless now? Is being a know-it-all no longer your thing?" her words had no filter. They were heavy and slipped out mercilessly. I could lie and say they didn't sting, but man, did they hurt like a bitch! It felt like chewing on glass. My chest stifled, and I almost started to pant.
"Is this about Velma?"
"Get her name out of your mouth!" Alma barked, stepping closer as she carefully enunciated. "GET HER NAME OUT OF YOUR FILTHY MOUTH!" Now her fingers were poking my chest while I melted under her bloodshot gaze.
I retreated, confused as to what to or what not to say. Alma didn't seem like she was going to believe my meeting Velma yesterday was a mere coincidence. I didn't particularly have a trustworthy reputation, so defending myself was basically impossible.
"I didn't do anything you're thinking, I swear!" I found myself blurting, against my own bitter pride and ego. "I might be the worst scumbag on earth, but stalking a child? Alma, please."
She stared back at me, and not a single percent of her disbelief was toned down. Alma didn't believe me. She never would- it began to occur to me. I might have underestimated her hatred for me because witnessing it firsthand killed me. For the first time in the span of five years, I was actually filled with the urge to bury my face in my hand and yell.
Was I that much of a monster? "Like I'd believe that!" she yelled back. "I'm supposed to believe the pictures were a coincidence, too? And it just happened to work in your favor, Carl?" she heaved a broken sigh, grabbing her forehead. I wanted to pull her close and hug her, just for a while. "I was a fool to think I could reason with someone like you!"
"Alma-"
"I'm not doing the interview!" she immediately cut in. "Whatever you told them, go and unsay it right now, Carl. I will never be seen on the same set as you."
"Forget about the interview, Alma." I was trying too hard to find a softness contrary to the swirl of emotions inside of me. Every single thing raged. My head was filled with a lot of clamoring and yelling, yet, I beckoned to her. "That's not even why I wanted you here."
Woah. Now, my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth. I just so badly wanted a chance to apologize for all the awful things I'd done to her. Of course, I knew an apology wouldn't salvage anything. I just hoped it would lift the weight on my chest just by a little.
She flicked her brow. Alma was willing to listen to me, and the moment stuck to my brain like glue. I gawked, dumbfounded. I've had this conversation in my head so many times that now, I was faced with it, and it slipped past my grip.
"Alma, I want to say..." sorry? That word was far too small, way too mild. I needed a better equivalent. I gulped hard and raised my head. "I'm..."
"Forget it." She cut in like she knew where this led. "I'm out of here. Like I said, I'm not doing the interview, so go get sorted. Also, I don't want to see you anywhere near me or my daughter. It won't be pretty to have the police involved."
With that, she stormed out, and I remained too stupid to stop her. Again, like an endless circle. I punched the table and yelled out. This was the most disappointed I've been in myself.
*
"It feels like a funeral in here," I muttered under my breath as I made my way into the house, detesting the music Linda was blasting. It was just a combination of mournful sounds that depleted my energy further. Why was she playing this?
She was in the living room, sitting so close to the television, but I'd only ask questions if I was surprised by Linda's madness. I wasn't, so I brushed it off, trying to tone down my annoyance from the rejection earlier, and how I did nothing to stop it. "What is this song?" I asked, and Linda's headshot in my direction, as though she hadn't noticed my presence there before.
"Oh, you're here!" She chimed and stood up, cradling her tummy. There was hardly anything to cradle, but I didn't say. My best option was to get this conversation over with as soon as possible. "It's for the baby."
"What's for the baby?" I drawled.
"The song. I heard it's really good for pregnant women and their babies, so I got the entire collection. I'd listen every morning and every night!"
Unreasonable. "I see." I nodded briefly, but really, I didn't see at all. I wasn't capable of seeing from her own point of view, ever. "Good for you. I had a long day at work, so... I'd be in my room!"
"So you're just going to leave?"
Oh, sweet jeez. "Uhm, yeah?"
"You don't think there's anything you have to tell me?" now, her arms were hugging her chest, and the happy facade she wore had begun to falter at the edges. "Are you going to make me ask for an explanation every time? I see the news, too, you know? You announced an interview with Alma?! With AL-MA! That is ridiculous."
I had no excuses. I did it because I wanted to, and I should just tell her that. Repeatedly lying was more exhausting than the truth ever could be. "It's not her--"
"I know she must have reached out to you! I know she must have pestered you to do it, but seriously, how could you!? You know how much she makes me uncomfortable!"
"Alma didn't--"
"Now I have to continuously think about the fact that she's going to be sitting next to you!" Linda yelled again, already prancing the room. "You have no idea what this feels like, do you?"
I sighed tiredly, feeling the exhaustion weighing on my bones. "Alma didn't agree to go to the interview, neither did she reach out to me. It was all me. Our stock dived, and I...had to find an option that benefitted everyone, hence the announcement. So please, stop making it seem like I asked her out on a date. It is an interview." Worst of all? She isn't even going to do it.
"Would you have asked her out on a date then?" her brows shot up as her eyes widened. "Why would you suddenly bring up a date? Is that what you want to do deep down? Carl, I am pregnant, and you still make me suffer so much!"
I watched her burst into another round of tears, another rather unfortunate routine of our lives. "I'm going to bed."
She stopped crying and blocked my path. "Let me in on the interview!"
"What?"
"Let me do it with you," she probed further. "Look, it's only right to be there as your wife, babe. Yes, you married her and- and those pictures happened, but who better to explain that you're over her than me? Your pregnant wife!"
"That interview is not for me to explain that I'm over her. It is for us to eradicate the fear our business partners have!"
"Us? You just used us for you and her," she barked, her voice strained. "Carl, are you still in love with her!?"
"Linda, please."
"Then let me in on the interview!"
"I cannot!" Let me survive this night without having to yell at her. My fists were balled, and my teeth gritted. Every single time I looked at her, I was faced with the same question. Where did I go wrong? "It is strictly work-related. It will be a mess to have you involved."
"Did you just call me a mess?"
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I needed to get out of here. I grabbed the suitcase I'd just dropped and slipped by her. Passing the night in a suite a hundred miles away from here was better than slamming my door shut while she argued with herself. There was still a hole in my chest that was dug by Alma, and Linda's drama only made it worse. "I'd be back by tomorrow evening."
She eyed me, then the suitcase. "And I'd be doing the interview too, so prepare for when you see me. Run everything you'd say by me so we don't end up with different responses."
Linda read the blank-confused expression off my face and pouted, proceeding to explain further. "Oh, I already made the call. I knew you weren't going to let me do it with you, so I already called the reporters," She sat and reached for her bottle of wine. "You know reporters are, they'd do anything for the news. You should reach out to her, too, so we pick a day that doesn't affect your schedule."
I exhaled with a small laugh. "You called the reporter behind my back?"
"The same way you announced an interview with your ex-wife behind my back," she leaned back. "Makes us even, don't you think?"