Chapter Text
“I see you two worked it out then?” Jordan nodded down at Gatsby’s hand which was resting gently just on top of mine.
I nodded, “I guess.”
Jordan’s face softened, but she didn’t smile. I doubted she ever really did.
“Are you going to thank me?”
“Thank you? Why would we thank you?” I laughed incredulously.
Scoffing, I added, “You left us on the side of the road in the middle of the night.”
“And where did that leave you?”
“Doesn’t matter where it left us, it was pitch black, Jordan.”
Jordan lifted her chin, taking a slow drag of her cigarette. I watched as the smoke twisted delicately through the air. I felt Gatsby tense up, but I wasn’t going to back down. I opened my mouth to speak again, but Jordan beat me to it.
“Jay would’ve protected you.” She muttered, half sarcastically, “I hear Tom’s rather beat up.”
“Well, I should hope so.” Gatsby remarked.
I shifted, a little frustrated that the topic had been changed. We left after an hour of awkward conversation, bits of silence woven in between pointless topics. Jordan offered to drive us home, but I refused. Besides, I don’t think the offer was completely genuine. I knew she must’ve been right. About what she said, that is. If she hadn’t kicked us out of the car we might’ve never made up. Still, I didn’t like how self-assured she was.
So me and Gatsby hailed a taxi again and drove back to my house. Jordan’s comment about Tom assured us that we (more likely than not) wouldn’t have to deal with him coming back. There was a free feeling in me. As if something that had been missing for years had been found. We slept for a while. We had been walking for hours to get to Jordans before a woman offered to drive us, and so we were quite worn out.
It must’ve been around six o'clock before we finally got up. I made the both of us a nice dinner and we spoke amongst each other. The question that hung densely in the air was what to do. Surely bachelor Gatsby couldn’t come out to the press as some nancy. He’d lose all his publicity, not to mention the danger of doing so, but he had just shaken his head at me,
“Darling, I don’t care. They won’t put a target on my head because of… of this.”
He didn’t know the reality, the real weight of the situation. I didn’t have the heart to tell him at that moment, but I didn’t get the chance to either. My telephone rang just as I had opened my mouth for a relieving subject change. I got up to answer it, waving my hand for Gatsby to stay seated.
“Hello?”
A familiar sweet voice sung over the line. It was heavy, dulcet, I’d nearly describe it as floral. My breath hitched as I recognized the enchanting whisper of my cousin, Daisy.
“Nick, dear.”
I desperately wanted to scream. My eyes darted nervously to those of my partner who stared at his dinner (?) with concentration. I felt my lips begin to shake. Under no circumstances was Gatsby to know that she was calling. Would he leave me for her? If he got in contact with her, would we be over? Gatsby, as if cued, looked up at me. I smiled tensely back.
“Nick?”
“Yes, I’m here.” My voice cracked, I cleared it.
“So I, um..” Daisy paused, losing her words to some hesitant force. She muttered an apology before speaking again, “I heard about you and uh.. Jay.”
I didn’t like how she said his name. It was slow.
I didn’t know what to say.
“He doesn’t love you.” I hissed.
I could almost see Daisy’s eyes widen.
“N-No! I didn’t—I mean, I don’t— I don’t love him… either.”
The rivers of relief were blocked by a wall of suspicion.
“Why are you calling?” I demanded.
“I just… Wanted to congratulate you. And him, if he’ll have me.”
“He won’t.” I snapped back.
I hadn’t realized Gatsby was staring at me. He got up as our eyes met and moved over to me.
His fingers graced my forearm gently, his eyes running over it. He looked at me finally,
“It’s Daisy. Isn't it?" He whispered.
I felt my face grow pale. How did he know? I couldn’t stop myself from nodding. My lower lip hidden as it disappeared in my mouth. Gatsby’s fingers moved up to my hand.
“Can I…”
I didn’t let him finish. I stuffed the phone in his hand, prepared for what was about to happen. Tears stung my eyes. I moved to the armchair, staring blankly at the coffee table.
“Daisy.” Gatsby muttered. I listened to the one way conversation between the two.
“Thank you.”
“No, not long.”
“You don’t have to-”
“Okay.”
Gatsby was silent. I could just barely hear Daisy’s smooth voice as it flowered through the phone. It wasn’t enough to make out the words, much to my disappointment. If I knew what she was saying, maybe I could argue my case. Maybe I could convince him to stay.
I wiped a tear that had slipped out of my eye. Finally Gatsby spoke.
“I won’t.”
...
“No, listen—”
...
“You can’t assume—!”
...
“Daisy! I love him.”
...
I felt my heart skip a beat. I rose slowly from the chair and turned to Gatsby. His eyes darted toward me nervously before he continued his conversion. I watched him, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“Daisy, I love him. I would never do anything intentionally to cause him harm.”
He took a breath as the voice in the phone droned on.
“Stop it. Stop. You don’t know him, you never took the time to know him. I admit at first neither did I. But I have now, and I hope that I’ll continue to for the rest of our lives. He’s an artist, Daisy— a poet.”
I felt tears drop from my eyes slowly, but I didn’t stop them. They weren’t sad.
“He’s more than you or Jordan have ever thought to make of him. He’s a spectacular man.” He spoke softly, but firmly.
I heard Daisy mutter something in response.
“And I hope the same for you.”
...
“Okay.”
...
“Take care.”
...
“Goodbye.”
The phone settled itself on the rack. It was silent now. Gatsby turned to me.
“I’m sorry.” He muttered, “I know it's sudden. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Said what?” I asked cautiously.
“I love you.” He moved over to me, taking my hands gently.
“But I do, Nick. I do love you.”
Without waiting for me to say anything, he continued.
“It hasn’t been long, I know. But I—” His voice wavered. He was nervous.
“I went into the office, when you were sleeping and.. There were poems, wonderful poems. And—And stories. They were magnificent, Nick. Your brain is beautiful. I want to know you, but I’ve fallen in love with what I’ve already learned. You’re absolutely incredible, Nick.”
I moved in and kissed him. I loved him too, and I had for a while. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind. He was everything I wanted. I pulled away and let out a little laugh,
“I should really clean that.”
“Clean what?”
“The office. It’s full of drafts and trash I need to throw out.”
“But I’ve read a lot of it. They’re sad and beautiful.”
“Yeah.” I wiped my eyes, chuckling to myself. I felt silly, “But I don’t need them anymore.”
Gatsby’s lips turned up in a gentle smile. He kissed my forehead.
“I can help you clean it out.” He offered.
“I’d like that.”
We moved down the hall and opened the door to the office. Books and papers were cluttered everywhere. There were two chairs that had fallen over. A few glasses half-full with alcohol and whatever else I had once used to drown my sorrows. Pencils and their shavings in turn scattered across the floor. Files filled with messy papers sticking from every direction. I took a deep breath, a little overtaken by the tremendous mess.
Gatsby nodded once, “Alright, let’s get to work.”