Nancy hadn't been strong enough to go home just after work, so she'd come to him instead, but as she stood with her back against the front door, she wondered whether she wouldn't have been better off to just come back here.
She had been thinking about Frank all day, telling herself that she was strong enough to resist calling him, but she knew that she was just waiting for him to do it. Every hour he didn't, she became more and more sure that he had found someone else, that he had been fed up with all of it for the last time. She had been with him--
No, she corrected herself, shrugging out of her coat, putting her car keys into her purse. She hadn't been with Frank; she'd merely been his girlfriend. A girlfriend, when all of it was said and done, who served only as an excuse to avoid the advances of other girls. They had never shared a bed, never shared more than a passionate kiss, and while he'd said he respected her decision to wait, even echoed it himself, she couldn't help but wonder if he resented her for it, the same way he resented her for not accepting his proposal of marriage, for not jumping at the chance to join him and build their life together in Bayport.
Nancy washed her face and looked into her own eyes in the mirror. She'd resisted crying at work. She'd resisted the urge to call Frank. She was stronger than this. She missed him like hell but she was stronger than this.
Maybe I'll never hear his voice again, never see him give me that smile again. Oh God, oh God.
She climbed into bed and pulled the covers up over her and the terrible stillness opened again. She didn't want to think about it, but it was all she could think about; otherwise she would be wondering what side of the bed Ned slept on, and if he spooned in his sleep, if he'd ever lived with anyone, if a kiss from him would actually change her life.
The prospect was ridiculous. She had kissed many men in her life, Frank mostly, and there were some very memorable kisses in there. Since taking her new job, since Frank's marriage proposal and her slowly growing realization that her life would have to change if she wanted it to ever be part of his, there had been less and less of the sudden mutual attraction to other guys, but more and more of her annoyance when her plans with him perpetually fell through.
Until Ned. In that way, Frank had been right. Everything had changed after Ned. Now it wasn't enough anymore, now an occasional weekend that would inevitably be interrupted by a call from his work wasn't enough.
We've been together so long, she thought, turning her face into the pillow, feeling the familiar tickle in her nose and the back of her throat, the tears threatening to rise again. The contact high of Ned's presence had put it off for a while, but she couldn't think about it. She couldn't.
She hadn't felt this way in so long, so very long. She knew how to flirt, knew how to tempt a guy far enough to buy her drinks, but Frank was the only one she'd ever loved. Loving someone else, after this... the thought of it was staggering, impossible.
What if Frank doesn't love me anymore, and the tears rose thick and fast and slipped from beneath tight lids down to the pillowcase. What if I was wrong, and I loved him this long and this, what we are, what I thought we were, we'll never be, we never were...
She had been so strong. But in the face of this, she was powerless. She could talk herself out of trouble and consequence, unlock a pair of police-issue handcuffs in under a minute, and survive cut brake lines, but this, she felt like she would never be okay again. He may not have been here, but he had been a large part of her life for a long time. She had known that her resistance would fade one day, and she would have the husband and the kids and the minivan, but now, that future was in doubt again.
Not that she'd ever been able to figure out how it would work, with the job she had chosen, the life she was leading. Frank had understood. Frank was just as committed to his job. Other guys wouldn't be so forgiving.
She turned over and saw her bathrobe hanging from the back of her closet door. She still felt miserable after she put it on, but she could smell tea, and something warm and slightly spicy and vaguely familiar.
Ned's scent.
Oh fuck, what am I doing, what have I done she thought when curled up under the covers again. None of it had happened until him, maybe none of it would have happened...
No, Bess's voice came again. She felt like she had talked to Bess about it for hours, until her voice was hoarse and none of the words actually made sense anymore. So it happened now instead of two months from now. And if Frank is seeing someone else...
"That bastard," Nancy hissed under her breath, her throat tight. She hadn't strayed, not this time.
What would you have done if Frank hadn't come.
Nancy turned over and pulled the pillow over her head. She would've pulled back. She wasn't that kind of girl.
Why? What's so different this time, from any other time, any other guy you knew was attracted to you...
"Because he's worth more than that," Nancy whispered, but before she could decide which one of them she meant, she heard her pager go off. She felt almost relieved as she dressed, shoving her feet into hard-soled slides, because going to work meant not crying anymore. Even if her job was good for nothing else, it did manage to keep her occupied, and for that she was grateful.
"This better be good," she said when she walked in, pulling her hair into a messy ponytail.
"It always is," her boss replied.