44
“Marriage is not a word, it’s a sentence.”
Of course my strong front dissolved like aspirin the moment we turned the corner. I began to sob so convulsively, I seriously thought the driver was going to take me straight to the ER.
“Miss, you hurt? You want to go hospital?”
“Oh, no, no, it’s just makeup,” I said, bawling.
“But, miss, why you cry? You hurt?”
“I’m fine, really, thank you—”
I looked out the window on the FDR Drive, watching the boats along the East River against the night sky, then the creepy former insane asylum on its own island, abandoned and crumbling. The pain of yet another heartbreak, raw and crushing, pushed its way up my chest into my throat, where what felt like a Wilson tennis ball was lodged in my esophageal passage. I had truly thought Elliot was everything I’d ever wanted:
When I got home, my red face and full head wound struck a sound of alarm in my doorman, whom I quietly assured I was fine. I landed on my floor and opened the door. I just hoped and prayed that Kiki, the only person I felt I could turn to, was not in on this.
“I had no idea. NONE,” swore Kiki. She was shaking her head in shock. “Jesus Christ, are you okay?”
“It’s the makeup from the show,” I said, wiping a tear and sitting down.
“Lyle just called and said Elliot is despondent and said he never told me because Elliot made him cover for him and then it just dragged out. I’m so pissed. I ripped him a new one, if you want to know the truth. I’m ripshit.”
“I don’t know what the truth is anymore,” I sputtered in a sad daze.
“Listen, Holly,” Kiki said, kneeling down next to me. “It was a shitty thing to do. Elliot lied, they both lied. But . . . the feelings that were there are true.”
“I have to go to bed. This is, was between me and Elliot, so I don’t want you and Lyle mired in this—”
“Hey, I’ve got news for you: I am mired in it. You are like my sister, and if you want me to never see him again—”
“No, that’s ridiculous, we’re adults here. I don’t need high school-style solidarity.”
Kiki followed me to my room, where I put on my pajamas and climbed into bed. She sat beside me on the comforter. “Holly. It was an assholic thing for him to do. Lying is always bad. But in his defense, you wouldn’t have even given him a chance if he’d told the truth, right?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know. I’m just tired. Of dating. Of men. Everything. I have to go to sleep.”
Kiki leaned down and gave me a hug. “Call me in the morning.”
After dropping Miles off at school, I took the train, zombie-like, downtown to work. I was amused that all the craziness of the awful previous night had played out with wounds all over my face. How perfect: an outward manifestation of what was now bleeding on the inside.
At work, Randy and Tristin immediately asked me if I was okay due to my sullen demeanor, but I shrugged everything off and just said I was tired and hit my desk, where I jammed in a trance for hours straight without a break. The one silver lining was that I was in a deep groove with the writing, and every e-mail I got back from Noah and Randy was a cyber thumbs-up.
I felt distant not only from the world I’d been in as Tim’s wife, but also from the new self I’d forged in my time alone. The only thing I could do was throw myself into quality time with Miles and kicking absolute ass at work, which I did, arriving early, right after Miles’s school started, and staying late when he had soccer after school. When I saw Elliot’s number on the called ID, I blew it off. When I got a voice mail from him, I deleted it before I could even hear what he had to say. I couldn’t let myself be open to heartbreak again. I was almost a robot; that’s how much my grief and surprise about his revelation rocked me. I couldn’t imagine that someone I had bonded with that deeply had a whole other life than the one presented to me.
I stayed home and made dinner for Miles every night, or took him ice-skating or to a museum. I did everything that I had been meaning to do, and got into a good solid routine with work, Miles, and his school. One night I came home and found a delivery at my doorstep. It was a Kermit the Frog felt muppet with a little sign that simply said, “I miss you.” I took the sign off, threw it in the trash, gave the toy to Miles, and flushed thoughts of Elliot out of my mind as hard as I could.
I tried to focus on myself. I did things I loved. I finally made a dent in the leaning-tower-of-Pisa-style stack of books to be read on my bedside table. The more I disappeared into the stories of other people in other eras, the more I melted in dreams of faraway lives not my own. I watched countless movies, took long walks to and from Miles’s school, and worked up a storm. I was fully immersed in the writing and the music. Sometimes, when I heard an amazing song, it would trigger thoughts of Elliot. But even though I was subdued as the weeks passed, I felt that eventually things would all be okay. I wasn’t ready to get back out there just yet, but when the time came, I knew I’d be all right. My defenses would be up this time.
About two months after the fateful night in the financial district, Kiki came over to cook dinner with Miles and me. I had seen her for lunch two weeks before, and she had attempted to make a plea on Elliot’s behalf, but I shut her down so quickly, she knew not to mention his name. So when she walked in and said she had to tell me something, I swiftly replied, “It better not have to do with Elliot.”
“It doesn’t. It has to do with his brother,” she said, smiling as she took my hand. “Lyle proposed to me last night,” she said, clearly trying to hold back her excitement. “We’re getting married.”
“Oh my gosh!” I screamed, getting up to hug her, despite my utter and complete shock. “Are you sure?! You’ve only known each other five months. . . .”
“I know. If I were you, I’d tell me not to. It’s crazy, but Holly, I’ve never been so sure of anything. This guy is . . . everything to me. With you and Miles and my family, of course. I just love him so much.”
“I’ve never seen you so happy.”
We hugged again and cried.
“Can you believe it?” she asked, wiping a tear. “Me? The one who never wanted to remarry. And now I can’t imagine not being with Lyle forever. It’s so weird.”
“I’m elated for you, really.”
“Will you be my maid of honor?”
“I’d be honored.”
