The Great Gatsby, characters, and original concept belong to F. Scott Fitzgerald.

Chapter 5

My nights bounced in between Jay and Tom, intercepted by the necessary breaks with Jordan. It was much easier to not inform one of the other, but as with all relationships, things sometimes got messy. Jay was eager to hear about the divorce finalizing, as if he was ready to pop out a ring as soon as legally possible. On the other hand, Tom didn't know of Jay, and for all he knew, I was still his faithful wife.

Nick spoke nothing of Tom and Myrtle to me, and I assumed that he was the same regarding me and Jay to Tom. Wallflowers were always excellent secret-keepers. While we weren't particularly close, I appreciated Nick more than ever. He was an excellent listener, and even let me gloat about my excellent dates with Jay. None of what he heard from me reached Tom.

Three months after I first demanded a divorce, I slipped. Every now and then, Jordan and I went out to the Blue Jay Bar for a girl's night. Jay often was absorbed in his own business affairs, but that night, he happened to glimpse me dancing with Jordan. This wouldn't have been an issue if I hadn't been wearing the diamond necklace Tom had given me, a piece of jewelry I had carelessly thrown on without noting where exactly we were hanging out that night. After some interrogation, I finally told him where it was from, but it was like he knew all along.

He was hurt, that much I could tell, but I wasn't lying. I did care for him, and I also cared for Tom too. After reassuring him that the divorce wasn't off and that I was still talking with Tom for the sake of our daughter, he retreated into his office, sullen and in a foul mood. Jordan took none of this too well, regarding Jay with a disdainful expression from afar as he argued with me in the hallway outside his office. We left the bar before nine.

A few days later, Tom received a letter from a Mr. Jay Gatsby inviting him and his wife to attend a small formal gathering of the city's elites at the Blue Jay Bar. When Tom called, I knew that he wouldn't take no for an answer. It was not uncommon, and it could easily be explained by the fact that he hoped to showcase the bar for big company gatherings. Tom, being an obviously large part of the Buchanan corporation, received a lot of invitations to meetings advertising renovated venues or newly opened restaurants that he would drag me to. I wanted to decline, but this time, however, there was a kind of urgency in Tom's voice.

"I've done my research on this Gatsby," he told me. "And what I've found is nothing good. He lives in West Egg, after all. He might own several bars across New York, but where he lives says a lot about him."

I frowned. "Nick lives in West Egg. That doesn't mean anything."

"Sure it does! Anyway, Nick's different. He lives in a modest house, and this guy Gatsby- he's Nick's neighbor. I looked it up on the Yellow Pages." Tom began to laugh. "I remember his house now. It was the giant ugly one. Now, let's see what kind of formal gatherings a bar manager can host."

Jordan and Nick had not been invited, but I knew it was not meant in offense. Jay wanted to see Tom for himself. Standing in front of the mirror, I saw a woman who was living the best of both worlds but feared their collision. Jordan hooked the clasp of a pearl necklace for me. It was a safe choice- neither Tom nor Jay could criticize me for a piece of jewelry gifted to me by my best girlfriend.

I ran my hands over my hips, admiring how the silver fabric of the dress clung to my body, and breathed in deeply. "Well, here we go," I said to Jordan.

She smirked at my nervousness. "Maybe you'll distract them with your looks and they'll forget to bicker."

We laughed and for a moment I felt calm, but when one of the house staff announced Tom's arrival, the anxiety returned. As handsome as he looked in his designer suit and new haircut, I couldn't help but wonder how Jay would appear. We took a cab into the city to avoid the gunk of the subways ruining my dress, and I made an honest effort to get Tom in a good mood before he faced Jay.

There was peace for less than an hour. Forty-five minutes in, Jay found us and introduced himself as an old friend of mine. The familiarity in which he spoke to me set Tom on edge, and I tensed, feeling Tom pull me close as if to establish his dominance. I was not committed to him anymore though, and that behavior wasn't acceptable anymore.

I wriggled away from him, glaring. "Lovely venue you have here tonight, Jay," I said, turning away from Tom.

"Yes, it's quite different than the usual weekend nights, as I'm sure you can tell." Gesturing to the bartender, Jay offered me a martini, ignoring Tom. The mounting tension was rolling off my husband in waves. I declined his offer with a wave of my hand.

Tom didn't take his eyes off Jay. "Do you come here often, Daisy?"

"Sometimes. It's a popular place to go. Jordan and I spend our girls' nights here." I tried to shift the conversation towards a lighter, safer topic than what I did in my leisure time. "Isn't the setting lovely, Tom?"

"It's absolutely ostentatious," He replied with a laugh. "I mean really, Daisy. Why here? The paintings are absolutely horrendous. I'd imagine the last bar we went to a year ago- Norah's Pub- was better. Homelier, but at least the décor wasn't garish." Like a rooster, Tom was swelling. With every put-down he seemed to grow in size.

That was when Gatsby snapped. "Maybe it's because she prefers my company here over yours. After all, isn't that why you're no longer living together?" His words cut into Tom's pride.

"Hey," I said, raising my voice slightly in warning.

"I don't know why she would, considering where you get your money." Tom's voice was strangely calm, despite his tense body language. Suddenly, my stomach dropped.

I stepped in between them. "That's enough," although I was nowhere close to either of their heights, I managed to make myself look at least mildly authoritative. "We came here to enjoy the night, not fight among each other." After a few seconds of a stare down, I realized that this confrontation would have to play itself out, no matter what I said. "Why don't we at least take this to your office, Jay?"

Finally, something they could agree on. The three of us headed towards the small hallway, under the scrutiny of the other attendants. As we passed them, I recognized the doctors, the successful entrepreneurs, and the lawyers. For a brief second, I wondered if any of them knew Dr. Wheatley. This thought was interrupted by the same burly guards I saw the first time I was reunited with Jay. Tom momentarily seemed put off by the presence of the men and remembered who his host was, but recovered quickly.

"Do you even know what he does, Daisy?" Tom asked me, a strange glint in his eyes that told me that no matter what I said, he was going to earn some kind of victory.

I glared at him. "He runs bars, you know, like the one you're standing in?"

"Let's be realistic. What makes this bar so special? It's got expensive décor, sure, but it's not even done tastefully. There's a clash between formality and the wild party scene. No, it's not the thematic elements that draw them here." Tom narrowed his eyes at Jay. "This is a cover for his illegal trade. All those rooms? People are dealing things away from the prying eye of the law because this guy gets a cut of the profits."

I recoiled, tasting something bitter in my mouth. All the people leaving through the alley entrance, the numerous small offices on the long hallway… I stared at Jay, unable to think of a fitting response. Beside me, Tom snorted, as if my silence had validated his victory.

Jay took a step forward. "She never loved you! She loved me first, and your marriage was purely financial."

That was it. The real issue, me, had been thrown out into the open, and I saw Tom ready to lay his claim. He stepped towards Jay, their chests nearly touching, with a challenge in his eyes. The sight of them staring each other down unnerved me for reasons other than the likely violence.

Once again, I joined them in their stare down. "If we're going to be discussing me," I snarled, drawing both of their eyes away from one another. "Then wouldn't it be smart to hear my side?" My heart was racing and I was glad that I had a clear mind.

"Tell him, Daisy," Jay urged, a wild look in his eyes. He turned back to Tom with a feverish look, ready to fight. I cringed, knowing that Tom would wipe the floor with him.

Seeing no other option, I took a deep breath and stared intensely at both of them, holding their gazes. "I love both of you," I shouted, holding back tears. "And I don't want either of you fighting over me. I'm not some prize that sits idly by. I have a say in who I spend my nights with!"

Jay looked hurt, as if I had shattered some dream of his. Tom just looked angry, but I recognized the look in his eyes. It was one that saw a challenge and accepted it. Before they could say anything else or begin to punch each other, I stepped away.

"Deal with this how you will," I told them firmly, "But for once consider how that will make me feel."

Without waiting for a response, I walked out of the office and the Blue Jay Bar. Not a single drop of alcohol had even touched my lips.