Should I Tell Him?

By the time Brody got back, our get-together was winding down, and I'd had more than enough time to over-analyze what Cassie had said.  Logically, I knew that Brody spent so much time at work because he had a ridiculous amount of work to do--that happens when you own a business.  But at the same time, Cassie worked there too.  I wasn't sure what she was getting at, but it was enough to make me a little nervous.

By the time everyone had left (including Lauren, who was heading to Alex's house), I just wanted to go to bed.  I started putting things away but was stopped by Brody's hands on my hips and his lips on the back of my neck.  I pulled away and continued cleaning up.

"Playing hard to get?" he asked teasingly.

I shook my head.  "I'm just really tired," I answered. 

"Okay," he responded with a shrug.  He helped me finish cleaning up and then followed me upstairs. 

After I emerged from the bathroom and climbed into bed, I expected him to go into the bathroom, but he sat down on the bed next to me.  "Are you angry that I left?" he asked cautiously. 

I sat up.  "No," I said sincerely, because I really wasn't.  "I'm not.  I'm really just tired.  I...didn't sleep well last night."  I knew I wasn't being honest with my feelings, but since I logically knew that I was letting Cassie get under my skin in an unreasonable way, I didn't want to say anything and sound like the crazy, paranoid girlfriend.  I hoped I'd feel better in the morning and could pretend none of it happened.

In the dim light of the lamp next to the bed, I could tell from his face that he didn't quite believe me.  He pushed a piece of hair back away from my face, and the gesture made unbidden tears spring to my eyes.  I blinked them back furiously and bit my lip.  "Liv," he said softly, cocking his head.  I will never be an actress, that's for sure.

I took a deep, shaky breath and said, "Okay, I know that this is stupid, and you need to know I don't believe it.  But after you left, Cassie asked if I ever wondered what you did when you were supposed to be working."  His lips formed a hard line, and I barreled on.  "For some reason, I let it get to me, but I know that when you're at work, you're working.  And I've never thought you were doing anything else, except maybe sometimes playing stupid games on the internet, because who doesn't do that at work sometimes?"  My rambling stopped abruptly, and I looked at him. 

He was quiet for several seconds.  I waited silently.  Finally, he said, "If you don't believe it, then why are you so upset?" His tone wasn't accusatory, it was curious. 

I shrugged.  "I don't know.  I just let the things that people say get to me sometimes.  That's why I didn't want to say anything.  I figured I'd probably feel better in the morning."

He pushed his hand through his hair and sighed.  "I'm going to get ready for bed, okay?" he asked.  It seemed like an abrupt end to the conversation and I looked at him with concern.  "I just need a second to collect my thoughts," he clarified, seeing my look.  I nodded and he got up and walked into the bathroom.  I laid back down and wished that I had been able to just let it go.

When he returned a few minutes later, he laid down next to me and pulled me to him.  I curled up against his chest and waited for him to say something.  "Look," he said finally, "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little irritated about all this.  Not at you, but I'm not sure where Cassie gets off sticking her nose into our relationship.  I wish I had time to fuck around when I was supposed to be 'at work'.  Not because I would, but because that would mean I could spend more time with you, and with my seriously neglected friends.  And just because she wants to sleep with two guys at the same time doesn't mean that's what I want to do." 

"I know," I replied.

"Do you?" he asked, and it came out not quite harshly, but not as kindly as his earlier question.

"If I thought you were out fucking other girls, do you think we'd even be having this conversation?" I snapped, rolling away from him and laying on my back. 

"Well it seems like you think something," he responded flatly.

"I don't know what to think," I said, struggling to keep my voice controlled.  "I think we've both come a long way in balancing your job with our relationship.  You've done an amazing job at making changes to benefit me and our relationship, and I appreciate that more than I tell you.  I hope you're finding me more reasonable about it too."

"I am," he agreed.  "And we have."  His voice was back to normal, kind and calm. 

I struggled to get mine to match, feeling like a petulant child and frustrated because I couldn't explain where my anger was coming from.  "But other people don't see the work you've put in to making it better, and I get a little tired of constantly defending your actions to them.  They don't really get it, and they don't care when I explain it.  So yes, every once in awhile, when someone suggests that maybe your behavior is less than ideal, it gets under my skin and into my head and makes me unhappy.  I'm sorry if you felt like I was accusing you of cheating on me, because I wasn't.  I'm just struggling to explain what's really going on in my head right now."

"I get the same shit from people.  I get it from my mom and my sister, I get it from Alex.  I used to get it from you, but luckily I don't anymore.  I get tired of defending myself too.  I get it."  He rolled onto his side and slid his hand across my hips, pulling me closer to him once again.  "I promise that I get it, Liv.  And I appreciate you defending me.  Some day, I want to be able to spend a normal amount of time at work.  I want a family, and I want to be there for them, with them.  I need to work my ass off now so that can happen.  If people don't understand...well, fuck them.  I had to learn a long time ago not to care what people thought of my work hours.  It wasn't easy, but if you keep letting them get into your head, you're going to go crazy.  All that matters is that you and I are on the same page."

"We are," I said softly.

"I know," Brody replied.  I rolled to face him and wrapped my arms around him.  I snaked one leg through his as I pressed my face into his chest.   

"Why is this so easy for you?" I asked him suddenly.

"What do you mean?" he asked, puzzled.

I pushed myself up on elbow.  "Everything.  Moving in together, buying a new house, shrugging off what judgmental bitches say.  All of it.  You don't even bat an eye.  I feel like a child because you're perfectly self-assured about it all, and I'm flailing around like a crazy person just trying to wrap my head around it all."

He chuckled softly and replied, "I'm not sure.  I guess at this point I just know what I want and what I need to do to get it.  Not to say that you don't, but I've made more than my fair share of mistakes, so I've had plenty of time to realize what I don't want.  I think you're a little smarter than me and haven't made quite as many mistakes as I have, so you're still feeling things out a little." 

"It's about time you admit that I'm smarter than you," I teased him, relaxing back against him. We settled into a comfortable position and I fell asleep quickly.

On Sunday I dragged Brody to the gym with me, then we went out for brunch.  We made all the way until we were done eating before his phone rang.  He excused himself to take the call but was only gone a couple minutes. 

"Do you have to go into the office?" I asked.

"Nope, just a quick call and a little time on the computer when we get back to your house," he said, smiling.  I let him work while I did a little cleaning.  I was still feeling restless that afternoon, so we went out into the gorgeous spring sunshine and wandered around my neighborhood.   After that, we sat and looked at some online house listings to pick out a few we liked to guide our realtor.  Lauren had decided she wanted to stay here, so she had signed a new lease for June.  I'd stay as long as it took us to find a place, and then it would be all hers. 

After our conversation last night, I was feeling much better about everything, albeit still a little irritated at Cassie.  She had never been anything but blunt, but she'd never quite crossed the line before. I decided if she brought it up again, I'd call her out.

Monday after work, I picked Brody up at his office.  We were going to meet with the realtor, Elena, then Brody was going back to work and I was going home to spend the evening with Lauren.   Elena was gorgeous, but perfectly professional.  We showed her a couple of the houses we liked, told her what we were looking for, and then she explained the options for whose name would be on the title, etc.  Brody was right: it was far less overwhelming hearing them from her than him.  Elena said she had some listings in mind already, and would make some appointments for showings and call us.  We were in and out in 45 minutes, which seemed way too quick and easy considering that we were going to be buying a house.

Lauren was already home when I got home, and I was surprised to see Cassie sitting in the living room with her.  I wasn't really ready to hang out with her.  "Hi," she said brightly.

"Hi," I replied warily. 

"You're pissed at me," she observed.  I nodded.  "I get it.  I was out of line, I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have suggested that Brody was up to anything shady with his business."

"Wait...what?" I asked, confused.  "I thought you were saying he was cheating on me."

Her eyes opened wide in surprise.  "Ummmm..."  She stopped, and shook her head.

"Let me get this straight," I said, suddenly furious.  "You were implying that Brody is...what?  Dealing drugs out of his office?  Taking a little off the top?  Making illegal investments?  Something else equally unwholesome?" 

Lauren looked like she was trying to disappear into the sofa.  Cassie's face turned pink.  "I wasn't saying anything that other people haven't already been saying," she snapped.  "Wake up, Liv.  His dad was doing it.  He was part of that business for years.  Do you really believe that he had nothing to do with it?  Come on.  Don't you wonder where all his money comes from?"

"No!" I exploded.  "I don't fucking wonder where all his money comes from!  I know where it comes from.  It comes from working his ass off.  How fucking dare you accuse him of running a shady business."

She looked at me with pity.  "Liv, I feel sorry for you," she said.  "You're so naive.  I work there, remember?  Don't you think I have a better idea of what's going on than you do?"

"Get out," I growled.  "I'm done with this conversation."

She shrugged and stood.  "Okay.  If you want to bury your head in the sand, that's fine.  But if you change your mind and want to talk about it, you know where to find me." She walked out, pulling the door shut hard behind her. 

Still standing in the middle of the living room, I turned to Lauren.  "Can you believe her?" I asked.  I flopped heavily onto the chair closest to me. 

"Do you need me to be your friend, or to be logical?" she asked carefully. 

I looked up at her sharply.  "Can you be both?" I asked.

"I'll try," she replied.  She was quiet for several seconds, then said, "I don't think that Brody is doing anything shady.  You said he was absolutely devastated and shocked when he found out what his dad was doing, and I believe that.  But I'm worried about why she's saying that, and who else might be saying similar things." 

I nodded.  "I agree.  I don't believe for one second that he's doing anything shady.  You should have seen him after he found out about his dad.  He was a mess.  But I agree that there must be some reason that people are saying stuff, if they really are, and that could have a really negative impact on his business.  Do you think I should tell him?" Brody's voice echoed in my head, reminding me not to let other people get into my head, but this felt different. 

"If people are really saying those things, do you think he might already know?" Lauren asked.

"He hasn't said anything," I replied.  "But maybe?"

"I could see it going a couple different ways.  I'm worried it will just piss him off and it won't be productive.  But if you think he needs to know, then you should tell him."

"That's not helpful," I moaned miserably.  We were both silent for a few minutes, then I said, "I think I need to tell him."

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What do you think?  Should she tell him?  Do you think he's up to something?