“You announced that eighteen people were coming to my home,” I said. “You did not ask. You told me.”
“I thought you would want to help.”
“You thought I would agree after the decision had already been made. That is different.”
He went quiet.
In the background I heard Elena say something I could not make out. Julian answered her under his breath, then returned to me sounding irritated.
“They’re her parents, her sisters, her cousins. We cannot just tell them never mind.”
“Then do not tell them never mind. Tell them the truth. Tell them you offered a house that was not yours to offer.”
The silence on the line changed.
Not empty now.
Exposed.
“What did you tell them, Julian?”
He did not answer.
I stood at the kitchen window and watched a jay land on the back fence. The gate leaned slightly where the latch refused to catch unless I lifted it first. I had been meaning to fix it. For once, I did not rush to fill the silence.
“Julian?”
“I said you had plenty of room.”
“That is not what I asked.”
Another pause.
“I said you were excited to have everyone.”
I gripped the edge of the sink.
There was the real injury.
Not the mattresses. Not the towels. Not the groceries. He had borrowed my consent because he was certain he could collect it later.
“Why would you say that?”
“Because Elena was embarrassed. Her family wanted to do a Colorado trip, and hotels in Boulder are expensive, and you had just bought the house. I thought it solved everything.”
“For whom?”
He had no answer.
“I have lived here eleven days,” I said. “You did not ask whether I wanted company. You did not ask whether I had unpacked. You did not even congratulate me before telling me who was sleeping here.”
“I did congratulate you.”
“Not today.”
That stopped him.
I could hear his breathing.
