EVELYN—
You’ve been working crazy hours so how about if I take you for a drink?” Bridget asked. “And before you say anything, we won’t go to WET.”
I wanted to decline, but I knew I needed to get out. A drink would probably do me good and seemed like a better option than binging on reality shows and eating my weight in Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal, which was what I was doing every night. “Okay,” I said. “And it’s a Tuesday. He usually doesn’t work on Tuesdays, so I don’t care if we go there.”
I wasn’t sure what possessed me to say that, but all I could figure was I was trying to prove how strong I was. I didn’t want Bridget, or anyone for that matter, to see how badly I’d fallen apart over Abel. Showing up there with my head held high would get back to him, and the added bonus was I was saving face in front of my boss.
“Are you sure?” she asked with raised eyebrows. “I can call and make sure he isn’t.”
I shrugged even though it was a good idea.
Her long red fingernails tapping against the buttons as she dialed and waited for an answer. “Marshall? Hey, honey, it’s Bridget. Look, I have a quick question,” she said, eyeballing me. “And I don’t mean to put you on the spot. I want to stop in with Evelyn and—”
She paused as I detected Marshall’s voice through the receiver. She nodded at me and gave me the thumbs-up. I breathed a sigh of relief because it was going to be a lot easier knowing for sure he wasn’t working.
“Thanks, honey. I’ll see you soon.”
She dropped the phone in her purse and put her hands on her hips. “He’s not there. Let’s go get you tipsy.”
I hadn’t stepped onto that side of the building since I’d been home. There was always a fear I’d see him or some memory would hit me too hard. We rushed toward the star, the cold wind blowing through us, but when I didn’t see it, I stopped.
“Where is it?” I asked.
“What?”
“The star. Did I miss it?”
“You’re a few steps short, and it’s not a star anymore,” she said, smiling. “They added a little something new.”
I followed behind her until she paused on a white dandelion painted on the ground. I stood above it, my eyes tracing the white floaties drawn next to it, looking like they were being taken off by the wind.
“I know a star wasn’t anything big, but I have no idea why they’d put a weed here instead. What do you think it means?”
“Wishes,” I mumbled. I lifted my head and faced her. “Someone wants you to follow the wishes.”
I had no way of knowing if it had anything to do with us. It probably didn’t, but it still stung seeing it there. Bridget knocked at the door, and it opened immediately, a grinning Tyler holding it open for us.
“Well, look at you two strangers looking as beautiful as ever,” he said.
I smiled because the voices in my head telling me this was a bad idea left me speechless. He gave me a knowing nod, almost pathetic, like I was going to fall apart right in front of him.
“You don’t need to walk us, sweetie,” Bridget said. “We got it.”
“If you say so. Enjoy, ladies,” he said with a wink.
Bridget threaded her arm through mine. “Less talk. More drinking, right?”
“Yes, please.”
I thought it would be okay, but it wasn’t. Stepping back into the dimly lit room made it even clearer I had no business being there. It was all too soon. It was too soon for the back of the mirrored bar and the candles reflecting against the martini glasses. It was too soon for Marshall to put his arms around me and tell me Abel was a fuckup. Bridget did her best to shoo it all away, but the only savior was a Marshall Manhattan.
“Do you think I’m pathetic?” I asked Bridget. We were tucked in the very end of the bar, out of view of most people.
“No, and before you ask, yes. I would tell you if you were.”
I drained what was left of Manhattan number three before my unsteady hand placed the glass back on the bar with a thud. Bridget eyed me above her own cocktail, a dirty martini with two olives.
“Pathetic, no,” she said. “But I do think you’re drunk.”
I waved my hand around. “Nah. I can hold it fine.”
“Is that so? Then why is your ass so close to the edge of the chair? You’re going to fall off.”
“I was starting to get up. I have to go tinkle,” I said, sliding off the stool. “Be right back.”
The mixture of drinking so quickly and the fact I hadn’t been eating much did in fact make the drinks hit me harder than normal. I was unsteady as I made my way to the bathroom, balancing myself by holding on to the sides of the walls as I made my way down the hallway. Girls had it good when it came to the pissing thing, especially when drunk. We got to sit down, gather our thoughts for a minute, and do our business. I wondered how guys kept their aim on target when loaded. I giggled to myself as I washed my hands, considering what the inside of a men’s room might look like, or worse, what it smelled like. I was going to ask Bridget her opinion on the matter, but I heard her shouting the moment I exited the bathroom. Making sure I wasn’t going to face-plant, I hurried back down the hallway, my feet dragging against the carpet.
I peeked around the corner, and my heart stopped.
“You stupid asshole,” Bridget said coolly. She picked up her drink and took a sip. “I hope for her sake she enjoys sleeping with garbage every night because that’s what you are. Vile garbage.”
Abel recoiled at her words, the sting written all over his face. His shoulders slumped down, his once-fitted, white work shirt hung loose. He looked like a mess, and while I should’ve been pleased, it only made things harder.
He turned his head, and when his eyes met mine, there was nothing coming off him. No deep dimples. No excited eyes at seeing me. It was like he didn’t even know me.
“He’s covering for someone else tonight,” Bridget said. “Marshall didn’t know until now. Let’s go.”
“No. I want to finish our drinks,” I said, glaring at him. “I won’t let him ruin anything else for me.”
“Marshall,” she shouted. “Get this stupid fuck out of my face before there is blood all over your bar.”
Abel raised his hands in surrender and backed away. I watched as he headed back to the bar, leaned over it to whisper something in Marshall’s ear before disappearing down the hallway.
“Okay, well, that’s over. If I can’t make you leave, at least let’s do a shot of tequila to take the edge of whatever you’re feeling right now.”
“I’m not feeling anything.” I shrugged. “Nothing at all.”
She snorted. “Yeah, right. You’re a liar. You look like…a frazzled llama…or something equally terrible. Plus, you need to get your hair done. Seriously.”
I needed to hang in there long enough for everyone to think that running into Abel didn’t affect me. If that meant doing a shot of tequila or two, which is how Bridget wanted it, I was going to do it. It wasn’t a smart idea, considering how drunk I already was, but I wanted to be able to keep up a good front.
“Okay,” Bridget said. “Are we done here?”
“Thank God, yes.”
“Let me run to the ladies’ room, and we’re out of here.” She leaned over to whisper in my ear, “I’m proud of you, sweetie.”
Mission accomplished.
I breathed in a sigh of relief knowing I’d made it. I made it and was still standing. Well, I was hopeful I’d be standing. There was no telling what was going to happen when I got up from the stool, but judging from the way I was rocking back and forth on it, walking might be a problem.
I dug through my wallet that I had sitting on the bar, wanting to leave a little something extra for Marshall in addition to what Bridget already gave. My eyes were trying to focus on the numbers on the cash, but my vision shifted when a hand I recognized slid something in front of me. By the time my eyes lifted, Abel’s back was already to me, exiting the back of the bar.
I glanced down, and it was white cocktail napkin with WET embossed in gold lettering across the middle. It was like all the other napkins there. Confused, I leaned in closer and could see ink dots soaking through the front of the napkin. I flipped it over, and there, written in Abel’s chicken scratch handwriting, it said, “I’m sorry.”
I stared at the words, the ink running into the paper and making smudges. Tears came to the surface of my eyes, blurring all the words together into one big mess. Why did he have to do this to me? I was doing so well and now…I was not.
I needed to get away before I made a scene, crying and making everyone uncomfortable. I stood up and steadied myself on my heels before I attempted to walk. Gripping the side of the bar, I inched down the length of it until I bumped into Bridget.
“Whoa,” she said, grabbing me by the shoulders. “You need a pit stop, too?”
I looked behind her, and Abel was up against the hallway wall, one foot propped up behind him. His head hung low as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
It wasn’t the tears I needed to hold in anymore. I pushed past Bridget, stumbling on my right heel before I ended up leaving the whole shoe behind so I could make it to the bathroom.
I did make it, but only as far as the sink before I vomited everything I’d been holding in. All the booze, heartache, and loss came out when my body couldn’t take it anymore. Looking at myself in the mirror above the sink, my face blotchy and my eye makeup smudged, I didn’t recognize myself at all. I was a wreck, standing with one shoe on, in a bar bathroom, puking over my ex-boyfriend. I was like a deranged Cinderella who lost one of her glass slippers, waiting for her prince to return it. Too bad my life was nothing like a fairy tale anymore.
* * *
Dreams were like listening to your favorite radio station. You turned it on, and more times than not, you were okay with whatever played. However, there were times when no matter how long you listened, the most dreadful tunes played one right after the other. My dream state after returning from WET and flopping down onto my bed was like the bad songs on my favorite radio station. A horrible dream about having to be a bridesmaid during Abel and Dafne’s wedding. I was pleased when the banging of the drumline following them out of the church wasn’t part of the dream, but someone knocking loudly at my front door.
Still somewhat tipsy, I dragged myself out of bed to see who would be here at close to three a.m., who I didn’t have to buzz in. I looked through the peephole and wanted to sink down to the floor under it. If I was quiet, maybe he’d go away.
“I know you’re in there, Evelyn,” Abel said. “Your neighbor was outside with his dog and said he saw you come home a couple hours ago.”
“Shit,” I said, unlocking the door. I opened it a crack. “I’ve had enough of you for one night.”
“Please let me in,” he begged. “Just for a minute. I’m sorry I made you puke.”
Bridget and her big mouth. That was mortifying. I didn’t want to let him in, but I worried about the other neighbors being woken up. I opened the door the rest of the way and stepped aside to let him in.
His black leather coat was spotted with droplets from snow. I didn’t know it had started snowing again. I looked him over, and he seemed cold. Good.
“What?” I asked.
“I can’t stay away from you anymore,” he said. “I need you to hear me out.”
I crossed my arms. “Fine. Go ahead.”
He took a deep breath in, running his hand across his face where his beard used to be. “I owe you so much more than an explanation, and I’ll give it all to you, but I need you to trust me.”
I laughed, a from-my-belly roar of a laugh. “Are you kidding me? I’d no more trust you than I would the rats that live behind the building.”
“Okay,” he said, shaking his head. “I deserve that. Can you remember when you trusted me? You did at one time, right?”
“At one time.”
“Well, maybe if you can find that place again, you can remember everything we said, everything we promised.”
“Are you kidding me?” I repeated. This had to be a joke. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Yes. I’m pretty certain I have.”
“Look, it’s done, Abel. You’ve moved on, and you coming over here is making it really hard for me to do the same. It makes you look like even more of an asshole.”
“Please just listen to me,” he pleaded, his hands cupped together in front of him. “I’m trying to explain why I did it, why I’m doing it.”
I glared at him as I forced myself to ask a question I’d been too afraid to ask before. “Is this because I didn’t say I loved you? Did you find someone else because I couldn’t say it to you before I left?”
“What? No. Of course not.”
“If that’s true, which who knows at this point, then this is what I need to tell you. When I said I was falling in love with you, that was a lie. I was already in love with you. I was so crazy, crazy in love with you, but I was also crazy scared. I wanted to tell you, but there was this nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that something was going to happen when I was gone. I didn’t expect this, but I knew something was going to go wrong. And the last thing I want to do is blame myself for that. That I should’ve told you I was in love with you and maybe you wouldn’t be doing this. You wouldn’t—”
I paused, taking a deep breath, but Abel snuck in when my guard was down for a moment.
“This is all on me,” he said. “All of it is my fault. I was in love with you, too. I’m in love—”
“Shut up,” I shouted, holding up my hand. “Just…shut up. I let you in,” I shouted. “I trusted you. And you broke that.”
“I know! I did the same, but—”
“But…nothing! You moved on and forgot about me the second I was out of view and now you’re getting married. Married. Which, by the way, I find hilarious,” I said, snickering again, but this time it was a cold, hard laughter.
He shrunk down, his shoulders slouching like he was being crushed from the inside. I paused, waiting for him to say something, to give me some sort of justification for what he did, but there was nothing. Just silence.
I knew it was my chance, maybe my only chance to let it all out. I wouldn’t deny myself that or have any regrets about anything left unsaid. The torment in my heart superseded any rational thoughts I had. I wanted to hurt him as much as he’d hurt me.
“You have my blessings, Abel, because you’ll need them. So will she. You couldn’t even stay committed to me when I was gone for just a few months. Now you’re going to promise to be faithful to her…forever. That’s a tall fucking order.”
His eyes wouldn’t dare look at me. When he spoke, it was to the floor. “I can’t…explain it to you the way I want. I wish I could, but I can’t. I’m trying to protect you from so much and I don’t know how to tell you so you’ll understand. Just know, I have never, ever felt for anyone the way I feel about you.”
“Felt,” I spat. “Maybe how you felt. Past tense. And while we’re on the topic of the past, retrospect is a painful but appreciated thing. You made me forget everything I ever promised myself about falling in love, that it was a word that held nothing but hurt in my life. I’m mad at myself for disregarding everything that anyone who gives a shit about me told me when I got involved with you. Bridget, Callie…shit, even your own brother! They all said not to, but I thought my own judgment trumped that. I’m glad for it, though. I know I’ll never make the same mistake again.”
“It wasn’t a mistake! It was everything. I just…need to do this.”
“You don’t need to do anything except be honest, but I can see that isn’t going to happen. None of this makes any sense, and the more you try to find some…explanation…the more I think you’re trying to hurt me further.”
“This is killing me. My fucking heart, Evelyn,” he said, pounding his hands into his chest. “Look at me. Don’t you know that you fucking own me. Everything. Everything you see. Everything you feel. You own it.”
His face, across where his dimples would appear when he was happy, was void of anything. There was nothing there. It was…empty.
“Not anymore,” I whispered.
“You own it,” he repeated. “From the second I saw you, you’ve fucking owned my heart.”
There was one more question I needed to ask. It made me the most terrified of all, but I had to know. “Is she pregnant?”
I watched his chest heave, the weight of my words catching his breath. My head used to rest on that chest as I listened to his heartbeat. My fingers would run across his smooth skin until he’d roll me under him to kiss me so deeply I’d be dizzy. It was like a magic spell.
Spells, like promises, broke though.
“No,” he said, staring right into me.
It was supposed to be a relief, but it only proved to make me even more confused. Confused and angry.
“You’re locked in pretty hard there,” I mocked, remembering when he’d say it to me. “Do you use that on your fiancée?”
“No.”
It was all falling apart.
Fallen.
My insides, my spirit…broken. Now, I wanted to let myself indulge in the pain because it was all that was left. The tears, the screaming…all of it.
“I want you to leave now,” I said, gathering what little was left of my strength. “And if I so much as see you on my street, I’ll call the cops. Understand?”
“Evelyn,” he pleaded. “Please. I need you to understand. I need you to just…give me time…to make you understand. Please don’t do this. You…you’re…my beloved, remember?”
I did remember, the flowers he sent me that got mixed up with a funeral arrangement that said BELOVED on it. I would remember it all because I’d never imagine in my life I’d believe in the fairy tale.
I touched his face, tears running down his cheeks. He leaned his head to mine, our foreheads touching. I knew it was the last I’d have of him, and selfishly my heart told me to take it. My brain would catch up. I knew it.
It was excruciating. Every cell inside of me screamed, telling me not to let him go, and that was wrong. He wasn’t mine anymore. He never was.
“Please,” he whispered through a cracked voice. “Please.”
I slowly untangled myself from him and stepped back.
Back.
Back.
Until I backed up against the door. I reached around and blindly turned the knob. Stepping aside so I could open it, my eyes never leaving his. Without any room for him to misunderstand, I chose my next words carefully and said them with a razor-sharp tone.
“Fuck you, Abel.”