The atmosphere inside is dark and sophisticated, the only brightness coming from the occasional blaze of the burning gas fireplace. Lounge music is playing softly in the background, and that’s why we love this place; it has such a cozy atmosphere, and it’s perfect to talk without having to shout.
I immediately spot Brooke. She’s perched on a stool at our favorite table, and she has already ordered a cosmopolitan for herself and a lemon drop martini for me. I love her! She’s a tiny brunette, with an impossibly sleek bob, very thin, on the shorter side, and as I said before, she has huge breasts that she’s very conscious of.
She always tries to cover them up as much as possible. In fact, today she is wearing her summer uniform—a black turtleneck dress. The only thing differing from the winter uniform is the lack of sleeves. She allows herself plenty of variability with colors, but the neckline is pretty much set in stone. Nobody knows how many turtlenecks she has. It’s classified. That’s why I thought about demoting her to a C cup. I was being a real friend.
“Hi, honey,” I say.
“Hi.” She looks at me with a weird expression; maybe she’s surprised to see me accompanied by an unknown man. “You look great!”
“Thanks,” I reply curtly. I don’t want to get into discussing my look now. “This is Arthur.” I introduce him and feed Brooke the made-up story I fabricated on the way here.
I don’t jump right away into telling her about James. We do some small talking first, mainly because of Arthur. Brooke seems to become more relaxed with every passing minute. It’s as if she was happy that Arthur is here, which is weird. It almost looks like she doesn’t want to be alone with me, something that has never happened before. Or maybe I’m just being paranoid.
Once introductions and civilities are over, I’m more than ready for my revelation. I sip at my cocktail and launch into my speech. “I need to talk to you. It’s very serious—you have to cut me some slack and make an exception. We need to talk about James.”
She looks at me for a very short moment with such pity and sympathy in her eyes that she appears as if she was watching an abandoned puppy dog in a pet refuge that she can’t take home. After this brief glance, she lowers her eyes and whispers, “Yeah, sure.”
“Brooke, what’s wrong?” All the gauges on my mental control panel simultaneously go way off scale, swinging back and forward like crazy, sending all sorts of alarms blipping and flashing in my brain.
“Nothing, nothing,” she mutters uncertainly.
“Then why are you looking at me like that?” I ask, unconvinced.
“Nothing,” she repeats. “I’m sorry, it’s just…we, uh…got back very late last night and I’m really tired. Please, go on.”
I am not buying it one bit, but I have more pressing matters to discuss so I’ll let it pass.
“As I said, it’s about James.” She gives me the sad eyes again, but I choose to ignore it. “Well, there is no easy way to say it. I’ve just found out he’s engaged.”
She looks at me, mortified, and doesn’t say anything. I would have expected a bigger reaction to a bomb of this size, but she doesn’t seem surprised…and then the penny drops.
“Huh,” I inhale sharply, bringing my hand to my mouth, comprehension dawning on me. “You knew!” I accuse her, pointing my index finger at her chest. “Admit it!”
“Yes,” she confirms, barely audible. “I knew already, but—”
“How long have you known?” I hiss while angrily narrowing my eyes, something I always do when truly enraged. It’s my evil stare.
“Just a couple of days. We found out—”
“We?” I cut her off. “Who’s we?”
“Well, everybody else,” she stutters, embarrassed. “We found out at the cabin—”
“Let me get this straight,” I interrupt her again, my anger mounting. “All my friends knew that my ex-boyfriend, who I still love, is engaged, and nobody bothered to tell me?”
“You should refrain from—” the genie tries to say something.
“Stay out of it.” I freeze him before he has a chance to add something weird.
I stare at Brooke expectantly.
“Look, we’ve just found out–” she starts explaining.
“How?”
“John,” she stammers uncertainly.
John, Megan’s boyfriend, was James’s roommate in college and I introduced him to Megan. Well, at least the two of them are working out, I think bitterly.
“But he and James don’t hang out that much anymore,” Mostly for my sake, I have to concede.
“No, they don’t, but of course they’re still friends on Facebook. John was browsing through his newsfeed on Sunday and saw that James had changed his relationship status to engaged.”
“When?” I ask glacially.
“Saturday night.” Brooke’s whole body screams awkward.
He proposed this weekend! They weren’t engaged when I saw them. Not that it matters.
“And why didn’t you tell me right away?” I press her angrily.
“We thought it would be bad to tell you while none of us was there…you know…to support you.”
“Ah yes, of course! Poor Ally, she can’t take it on her own.” I am almost crying. “You just thought that talking behind my back from your romantic couples’ retreat was a better idea.”
“You know it’s not like that.”
“No, Brooke,” I say adamantly, “at this point I don’t know anything. I’m out of here.” I get up, fumble in my purse furiously, throw a twenty dollar bill on the table, and storm away toward the entrance doors.
I run out of the bar, rushing into the street. I know she won’t be able to follow me immediately. She still has to ask for the bill, so it will take her a good ten minutes to sort it all out, and by then I’ll be long gone.
I hail a taxi, ready to make my escape complete. Except the genie hasn’t caught up with me yet…he’s still trailing behind me a bit distraught, and definitely too slowly.
“Are you coming or not?” I prompt more than ask him.
“Are you sure you want to leave in this fashion?” he asks, a hint of reproach audible in his voice.
“I am going. Either get in the car or stay here. I don’t care,” I state sharply, slamming the cab door shut behind me.
The genie comes in from the other side while I am giving my address to the driver, who promptly takes the hint and speeds away as soon as the genie shuts his door. The guy is smart enough to drive without asking questions, and makes himself as inconspicuous as possible.
“Your behavior was a jot harsh.” The genie, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to understand that talking to me right now might be dangerous. “Do you not agree?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest and keeping my gaze fixed outside the window, away from him.
“May I just point out that—?”
“Shut. Up.” I stress each word, fuming. “Have I not made myself clear?”
He finally falls silent and sits still on his side of the cab. I notice the driver eyeing me disapprovingly from the rearview mirror. He’s probably labelling me as a bitch. He’s definitely getting a lousy tip for this ride.
As I watch the tall, familiar buildings of Chicago sweep by rapidly, I can’t help but feel so completely betrayed and humiliated by the persons I trusted the most. The thought of my entire group of friends gathered around the fireplace while on their expensive, only-for-perfect-couples little vacation, pitying me, talking behind my back, thinking I was too fragile to handle the news, makes me sad.
I could have expected it from Amy, maybe Megan, but not from my best friend! Not from Brooke! They are the cowards, not me. The mere thought of the sorrowful look in her eyes makes me sick, along with all the lame excuses she blabbed.
The hell she wanted to tell me! I texted her today, she didn’t text me. What was she waiting for? If she wanted to tell me so badly, she would have reached out to me somehow. That’s why I haven’t heard from her since Saturday night; it wasn’t just today. Before, I hadn’t noticed that the radio silence had started Saturday, but it all makes perfect sense now.
I’m not sure exactly why the knowledge that everybody else knew is so upsetting. It must be the same as finding out your husband or boyfriend was cheating on you, and after a while discovering that you were the only one oblivious to the fact. It makes you feel like a fool, a complete idiot! It makes you feel cheated twice.
I sulk in my thoughts all the way home, not uttering a single word. The genie keeps unnerving me by sending preoccupied side-glances in my direction. I pretend not to see; maybe he also thinks I am too fragile, a damsel in distress!
Once in my apartment, I strip off my new suit and toss it on the bed in disarray. I decide to wear my comfort clothes: a pair of old, saggy sweatpants paired with an even more ancient baggy t-shirt. Comforted on the outside and discomforted on the inside, I move to the living room, grab a packet of m&m’s, my all-time favorite candy and preferred substitute of break-up ice cream, and sag ungraciously on an armchair, ready for an evening of self-pity.
“Am I allowed to speak now?” the genie asks, circling around the apartment like a lion in a cage.
“Suit yourself,” I respond, scowling.
“I believe your reaction was exaggerated.” He launches into one of his sermons. “Brooke seemed truly sorry. I did not detect any malice in her.”
“She wasn’t sorry,” I hiss bitterly. “She pitied me. It’s very different! I don’t need anybody’s commiseration, thank you very much!”
“It appears to me she was just being a sensible and empathetic friend to you.”
“Yeah, sure,” I blurt. “Did you hear all the crap she said? I wanted to tell you, but you were alone, blah, blah, blah…she should have said ‘unattended’. That’s what she meant, as if I was some emotional wreck who can’t cope on her own.”
“Maybe she just wanted you to have the support of your friends in a moment of need before revealing such troubling information to you.” The lecture continues, “it is nothing to be ashamed of. We all have to lean on someone else at one point or another in life.”
“So why didn’t she tell me today, then, huh?” I practically shout. “I asked her to go out, not the other way around! What do you have to say about that?”
“Probably she knew she was about to break your heart, and she could not bring herself to do so because she deeply cares about you.”
“Did she hire you as her lawyer?”
“No, I am just trying to make you see reason. What I mean is, would it have been so effortless for you to break her heart if the roles were reversed? Even if you knew it was the right thing to do?”
The answer of course is no, but I am not giving him the satisfaction of saying it aloud. I simply keep glowering at him from under my frown, stuffing my mouth with delicious chocolate-coated peanuts. He stares back unflinchingly, knowing he just scored a point.
We prolong the silent stare-war for some minutes until the buzzer rings in the background, distracting us. What now? Who is it?
I get up reluctantly to check who’s out there.
“Yes,” I say in the intercom.
“Hi Ally, it’s me.” Brooke’s voice comes with a metallic distortion from the little plastic box.
“Brooke, I don’t want to see you right now,” I say, sighing. “I want to be alone tonight!”
“I brought sushi,” she replies, hopeful.
“Brooke, you’re not bribing yourself out of this with sushi!” I reproach her, only half convinced.
“I also got cookies and cream from Ghirardelli as dessert,” she adds.
Ah, true break-up ice cream.
A long silence follows. I don’t want to cave in, but she knows how to get to me. Sneaky Brooke, this is too much even for the most resolute person. I am totally bought.
“Did you bring chocolate cones?” I ask, somewhat mollified.
“Mmm-hmmm.”
“Come on up,” I say, pressing the door release button as an involuntary smile spreads on my lips.