Bruce’s jaw dropped when I walked through the door.
“What the…”
“I did my hair! Don’t you love it?”
He stared at me for a long time, shaking his head.
“I go away for two days and this…this is what I come back to? A stranger in my fiancée’s body? Oh, excuse me—it’s not even your body anymore! What have you done, Evie?”
“It’s just a dye job, Bruce. It’s not like I had plastic surgery,” I moaned, trying my hardest to shrug off this latest attempt to undermine my individuality. If Jade were here, he’d be outraged.
“Look at yourself. Is that what you wore to work today?”
“Yes, Bruce,” I said, exasperated. “I wore a skirt and a shirt to work today. I’m such a slut.”
“It’s practically underwear, and that’s not a shirt, it looks more like…like…a bathing suit or something.”
“It’s a camisole. It goes under a jacket.”
“So where’s the jacket?!”
“I left it at work.”
“What are those shoes? Is all that new? Did you go shopping again?” He was absolutely mortified, and he wasn’t even trying to hide it.
“Yes I did. I got a few things. But listen—I reached my goal weight! Can you believe it? Jade says I shouldn’t lose another pound. I’m actually where I want to be. For the first time in my life! So I don’t really have to buy anything else until the fall….”
“Are you serious?”
“Stop it with that voice! You’re overreacting!” I shrieked.
“Me? You’ve been overreacting for six months straight! I think I have the right to be freaked out when you come home with blond hair and looking like you just stepped off the pages of Seventeen magazine!”
“I do not!”
“Yes you do! You’re not a teenager. You can’t wear…what are those? Clogs? Green clogs?”
“They’re platform sandals, jerk. And what the hell do you know about it? You wear plaid shirts with button-down collars.”
“Who cares?”
“I do, thank God! You think I want to go around with some guy who looks like he’s about to go yachting?” If it weren’t for me, he’d still be wearing yellow sweaters. “What’s wrong with taking a little pride in your appearance?” I asked him.
“Nothing’s wrong with taking a little pride in anything. But you’re taking way too much pride in everything! It’s offensive, and it’s ridiculous. You’re still the same person you were before you lost all this weight, you know—Evelyn Mays, plain and simple. Fancy hair and tight clothes don’t fool anyone.”
“Plain and simple? Is that what you think of me?”
“I used to, and I liked it.”
“Well, then, you’ve just proved my point. Remaking myself into the person I’ve always felt like I was on the inside has been the greatest success of my life. The only success of my life. And if you don’t like it…then…then you’re obviously not man enough to accept the real me.”
The tears were flowing now, and I was powerless to stop them. This had been building up for a long time, and I had to let it out. “You talk about how looks don’t matter, and how you liked me so much better before. But how do you think that makes me feel? You might think I like hearing about how you didn’t care that I was fat, that you liked me for who I was, but you’re a liar… You’re a liar, because all you talk about now is how I look, and how stupid I am, and how you hate everything about the new me. And that tells me looks do matter to you, Bruce, and that you care more about what I’m like on the outside than who I am on the inside.”
He sat down on the couch and put his head in his hands. “When your life became all about how skinny you could get, you stopped caring about everything else, especially me. You’ve made it abundantly clear that you’re more interested in pursuing your goals rather than our goals. I was okay with that at first, because you wanted it so much. But when your entire world revolves around how you look…that’s where I draw the line. I can’t pretend that I want my life to be about your new clothes and what you weigh. How can you expect that from me? And when was the last time you asked about what I want or how my job is or what my plans are? I go out of town and I come home and all you say when I walk in the door is, ‘Bruce, your mother’s been driving me crazy,’ or ‘Bruce, they’re all out to get me at work.’ You’ve never, not once, asked me about how my trip was, or if I had a good time. You’re so damn preoccupied with your own life that you don’t even know what city I’m in.”
“Oh, believe me, I notice what city you’re in!” I shouted. “I know when you’re out of town because I don’t get crap about not eating dessert and I don’t get crap about how much money I spend and I don’t get crap about…”
He threw his hands up in the air. “Don’t bother, Evie. This is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re so bloody self-involved that you can’t put yourself in my shoes for a single minute, let alone for long enough to realize you’re not the only one with problems and complaints. Why don’t you acknowledge what I’m saying sometime instead of just defending yourself?”
Was he right? Did I really never ask him about his trips? Impossible—I knew far too many boring details.
“I know all about your trips,” I sniffed.
“Of course you do, because I tell you about them. But not because you ask.”
“That’s not fair.”
“That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking.”
“You know that’s not what I meant,” I said between clenched teeth.
“But, oh, how I wish it were.”
What the hell did he want from me? “It’s like you wait for me to fail. I bet every time you come home, you’re just waiting for me not to ask you how your day was….”
“That’s extremely paranoid thinking,” he said, massaging his temples. “Could this be yet another charming character trait of the New-And-Improved Evie I can look forward to living with for the rest of my life?”
“…you wait for me to fail, you hold me up to your impossible standards, then when I don’t come through, instead of talking to me about it, you pull away!”
“If I’m pulling away, it’s because I’m being pushed.”
“No—that’s it,” I said. It was suddenly all very clear. “And the more you pull away, the more I think you don’t want me the way I am. If you expect me to turn into some demented Step-ford wife like your mother or your sisters or your high-school girlfriend and spend my life in a twin set and pearls, cooking and cleaning and diapering your babies, you can forget it.”
“Don’t lay that shit on me. Although I can barely remember it now, it seems to me the reason I fell in love with you in the first place was because you were definitely not that person. You know I don’t want that! But I do want someone who knows her own mind, and someone who’s comfortable being herself, which you’re obviously not anymore. And you can slam my mother as much as you want…God knows you love nothing more than reminding me how much you hate her guts…but the truth is that since we got engaged, you’ve become more and more like her every day.”
“Liar! Liar!” I screamed. He crossed the line. He finally crossed the line. I could handle being told I was turning into my mother—that would be bad enough. But his?
I stomped into the bedroom and pulled the covers over my head to cry in private. But he followed me in and kept on at it.
“It’s true—you’re exactly like everybody you used to despise most in this world. Remember when you used to make fun of all the lollipop girls and fashionistas? But now you’re the one not eating and you care more about what strangers think of you than the people who love you.”
“Why don’t you just kill me with your bare hands and put me out of my misery,” I sobbed. “I can tell you don’t love me anymore. You don’t even like me anymore…”
“You’re the one who doesn’t like you anymore,” he interrupted.
But I ignored him and went on. “…and it’s really obvious you don’t…” Dare I say it? “…you…you don’t want to marry me.”
“Unless you get a hold of yourself immediately and cut all this shit out, you’re right. I don’t want to marry you.” I couldn’t see him, because my face was under the pillow, but I felt him sit down on the bed. His voice started to crack, just a little bit. “Why can’t you just be the way you were before? Why can’t you just stop all this?”
“Me?” I said, sitting up. “You’re the one freaking out.” I’d never seen him this close to tears.
“Yeah, I suppose I am.”
I reached over for his hand. “All my dreams are coming true, Bruce. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted. Why can’t you just be happy for me?”
“Be careful what you wish for, Evie,” he sighed. “You just might get it.”
“But it doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” I pleaded.
“Maybe not for you, but it certainly is for me. It’s been a nightmare.”
“I had no idea you were really this upset.”
“Well maybe if you’d asked me once in a while, you’d know. Although you probably wouldn’t have listened to the answer, anyway.”
I wasn’t going to let him get all aggressive on me again. It was out of character for him, and very irritating. Besides, hadn’t I given Bruce more than enough opportunities to discuss things openly with me? There were plenty of examples to choose from, but I decided it was enough for tonight.
“So how was Boston?”
“Fuck Boston. I can’t take this anymore,” he said simply, and left.
I was afraid to go to the gym the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that. Until a week had passed. Not that I didn’t trust myself, but I thought a little distance right now between me and Jade might be a good thing, just to be on the safe side. Plus, I couldn’t bear the thought of telling him all about my big fight with Bruce. It was so humiliating.
Over an emergency lunch meeting, Morgan agreed.
“I’ve told you, never dump your problems on your trainer. Even if you’re sleeping with him, it’s very inelegant.”
“But he’s more than my trainer—he’s my friend.”
“Sure he is, Evie. But he also wants to get you into bed.”
“I know,” I said, still reeling at the thought of it. “Isn’t it amazing?”
Morgan stared incredulously.
“Amazing-flattering, not amazing-good,” I explained, but she still seemed suspicious.
“Either way. Listen, you have to decide if you want this,” she said tentatively.
“Want to get married?”
“Of course you still want to get married, you idiot. I won’t tell you that Bruce is the best thing that’s ever happened to you. No man is that to any woman. But you two do work well together. You complement each other, and that’s the secret to all great relationships, or so I’ve been told. So of course you still want to be with Bruce. What I meant was, do you want this thing with Jade?”
“What do you mean? Of course not.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. No. I mean, yes I want to. He’s gorgeous and he smells so good. But I could never actually…”
“Maybe you just need to listen to what your heart is telling you.”
“Didn’t you just say that I should stay with Bruce?”
“Yeeees…” she sang, waiting for me to get what she was trying to tell me. “But maybe there’s another option…”
“You mean sleep with Jade?” I whispered.
She grinned broadly. “You’ve just had what I believe Oprah would call a Lightbulb Moment.”
“That’s ridiculous, Morgan. Thank you for your advice, but I think I’ll take it from here.” Was she crazy?
“Evie, you know I would never suggest you do something you don’t want to do, but I would try to open your eyes to the potential benefits of doing something you do want to do. And you do want to…”
“But that’s cheating.”
“Oh, that word. That horrible word. Put it out of your mind. You’re about to get married to the man you love. In this sad, lonely, random world, you and Bruce have found each other and want to make the biggest commitment of all….”
“If you’re trying to get me to not feel guilty, you’re doing a crappy job,” I told her.
“Hear me out. But on the other hand, you’ve also experienced an awakening—physical, sexual, spiritual, whatever you want to call it, right?”
“I guess so.”
“I know so. Losing fifty pounds is enough to make any woman take a good long look at herself. Evie, since it seems like nobody’s ever told you this, then let me be the first: You’re entitled to feel attractive, and you’re entitled to enjoy a little attention from the opposite sex. You’re a gorgeous, vibrant twenty-seven-year-old woman. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Then why do I feel guilty?”
“Because your mother did a number on you, and because you think you know how to avoid hurting Bruce. I bet you probably think monogamy is part of being a decent human being!”
“Hello? Am I missing something here?”
“Yes. You’ll never be a good wife if you’re not a good Evie first. And to be a good Evie, you have to be faithful to yourself above all others. If you go into your marriage wondering what might have been, or wishing you’d taken a chance just once, then you’ll end up resenting Bruce—unfairly I might add—and it’ll ruin your relationship.”
“It’s almost ruined now.”
Morgan threw her hands up into the air and shook her head. “So what do you have to lose? Maybe you need to indulge your urges to finally be free of them. If that sounds crazy to you then whatever, but it’s worked wonders for me. You think I sit around all day torturing myself over what I want or don’t want or what I should or shouldn’t do? As if. My advice in all this is don’t be afraid of Jade. Go back to the gym and talk to him. See how you feel. If you want to have a fling—a single solitary fling over the course of your entire life—then this is the time to do it. The world won’t end. You might even find it empowering. Then you can go forward with everything else. Evie, we all have a right to experience the joys in life, and to keep it to ourselves if we want to.”
“It’s frightening how wrong you are, and how sick that reasoning is,” I snapped. “You’re not enlightened, you’re demented. And an amoral bitch, too. You know that?”
She laughed. “I’m so sorry if I’ve offended your delicate sensibilities, Miss Mays. I suppose I was kind of wondering if you were actually considering actually doing it…you know, before it’s too late. And I guess I have my answer.”
Morgan’s tirade did inspire me to go back to the gym. I wanted to test my feelings, to see how strong they really were. I had to trust myself, that was the key. Of course, I would never actually do anything with Jade, but some of what Morgan said did make sense. And since playing with fire was something I’d never really done before, I had a right to know what it felt like. That could be empowering, too, without having to go all the way, of course.
Jade’s face lit up when he saw me.
“I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever see you again,” he said.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t feel like coming.”
“That doesn’t sound like you, Evie. Everything okay?”
“Bruce and I had a big fight.” I honestly didn’t mean to tell him. It just came out.
“What happened?”
I guess I really needed to vent, because over the next couple of hours, I told him the entire story, sparing no details, from beginning to end. To my growing delight, he nodded sympathetically at all the right places, and even touched my shoulder twice to show support (Mademoiselle, March: “10 Ways To Tell if He Likes You”). I didn’t feel guilty, like I thought I would, sharing Bruce’s words with Jade. All I felt was relief.
By the time we were finished, I should have been emotionally and physically exhausted. Instead, I was unbelievably energized.
After I changed and showered, Jade caught up with me at the front door.
“I’m done for the night,” he said. “Getting out early, for once.”
“This is early?”
“Yup—my 8:30 cancelled. She finally went into labor. You walking this way?”
“Yeah,” I said. “So what are you up to tonight?”
“I think I feel like going out. Whaddya say?” he nudged me in the ribs with his elbow.
There was no harm in it, I reasoned. I was really enjoying his company, in a purely non-sexual way. “Sure. Why not,” I smiled. “Bruce is gone for the night, anyway.”
“Again? He sure goes out of town a lot,” Jade said.
“This is the last time. School’s finished next week, and then he’s off until September. Well, sort of. He teaches summer school in the mornings. Can you believe that? Those little geeks go to school in the summer for fun.”
Jade didn’t say anything, and we walked in silence for a minute or two. I was such an idiot—he obviously didn’t want to hear about my fiancé’s summer plans.
“So where do you want to go?” I asked.
“You sure you want to?”
“Yes,” I said. “It’s no big deal. Just two people with nothing else to do hanging out for a couple of hours. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing, if you ask me. But just so you know, it’s not that I don’t have anything else to do tonight. I want to be with you.”
Now it was I who said nothing. As long as we were skirting the issue and flirting harmlessly, there was no trouble making conversation. It was when Jade got serious with me that I seemed to freeze up.
He sensed my discomfort. “Umm, let me think…well there’s a quiet little place just around the corner from my house. They make a mean apple martini. How’s that?”
“Sounds perfect,” I said quickly.
We took a cab to the bar, which was probably a really trendy place on the weekends, but since it was Tuesday night, it was pretty dead. We sipped our martinis and made small talk, mostly about our likes and dislikes, favorite movies, stuff like that. It reminded me of when Bruce and I first started dating, and the exhilaration of getting to know each other. Jade seemed genuinely interested in everything about me. He even asked me a few questions about my dad, which I skillfully avoided.
“So, did you ever think you’d end up sitting here with me having drinks?” he finally asked.
“You mean when I first saw you? I’d have to say definitely not. I thought you were just a dumb jock who flirted shamelessly to reel in customers.”
He laughed. The bartender looked over and drooled.
“Nobody could accuse you of mincing words, Evie,” he said. “So now what do you think of me?”
“Well, you’re not as dumb as I thought, but you’re an even bigger flirt than I imagined.”
“I think you’re the one who’s flirting,” he grinned.
“Easy, boy,” I said. I hadn’t eaten dinner, and the martini was going to my head in a wonderful way. I had this guy wrapped around my finger. Morgan was right—it was empowering.
“Easy yourself. You want another drink?”
“Sure. Couldn’t hurt. But two’s my limit on a school night.”
I don’t know whether or not it was my subconscious intention to get completely blitzed, but that’s exactly what I did. Maybe it was because I was hungry, and the martinis came with little slivers of apple in them. Or maybe it was because I was just so sick and tired of thinking all the time, and being drunk was like giving my brain a much-needed holiday. Whatever the case, an hour and a half and four drinks later, Jade and I were strolling arm-in-arm down the street. The plan was to walk me to the subway, but we ended up at his front door.
“Don’t ask me if I want to come in,” I sighed. “Because I really don’t.”
“Then I won’t ask you,” he said, turning the key in the lock and leading me up the stairs. “The place is a mess, so you probably wouldn’t want to see it anyway.”
“No, I certainly wouldn’t,” I agreed as I stepped through the doorway. Despite my drunkenness, I was thinking clearly and felt quite wonderful.
“Then you definitely wouldn’t want a tour, then,” he said.
“No thanks.”
“Good,” Jade said as we walked through his apartment. “Because this isn’t the bedroom.”
I looked around the room. It was actually pretty tidy. The bed was made and there were lots of little white candles everywhere. Very unusual for a guy.
“I bet you bring all your clients here,” I said, then added, “This room looks like a set from a bad porno.”
“I told you I don’t do that,” he said as he fluffed the pillows. “And I hate to disappoint you, but you’re the first one.”
“You’re a virgin?”
“No! I mean you’re the first woman I’ve ever brought here from work.” He lit a candle beside the bed.
“How many drinks did you have?” I asked him.
“Does it matter?”
“You’re not drunk, are you?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “Are you?”
“Of course not.”
“Good,” he said, and sat down on the bed. “Well, as long as you’re in control of your faculties, why don’t you come over here? I want to show you my condom collection.”
“That’s very funny, but I’m fine where I am, thank you.”
“You’re fine wherever you are,” he smiled.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You think I’m going to fall for that?”
“Yes.”
Jade stood up and walked toward me. The room was spinning, and I knew things were about to get heavy. I exhaled slowly. There was nothing to do but let it all happen.
He grabbed my waist and gently pulled me close to him.
“Evie,” he whispered.
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“About what?”
“About this,” he said, and kissed me.
It was a long one, very slow and deliberate. The best kiss I’d ever had. I knew that before it was over. He pulled away and looked into my eyes. My legs were shaking like the floor was made of Jell-O.
“Is this okay?” he asked softly. “If you don’t—”
But it was definitely too late for that. I put my hand on the back of his neck, closed my eyes and kissed him again. It was just as good. Better, even. He tasted like heaven, like vodka and cinnamon gum.
Soon, we were on the bed, then under the sheets. My shirt was on the floor. He fumbled with my bra. I fumbled with his belt buckle. Evie, Evie, what are you doing? He let out a little moan. Slowly, the rest of the world disappeared.
It was almost impossibly surreal, like one of those out-of-body experiences you hear about on the talk shows where some old lady’s heart stops beating during surgery and she sees herself lying on the operating table below. Only this time it was happening to me. Most miraculously of all, every time I opened my eyes, Jade was still there. Gorgeous. Breathtakingly gorgeous. And at that moment, he wanted me, Evelyn Mays, more than anything else. I knew there was no going back, even if I wanted to. Which I didn’t.
Maybe if that first kiss was bad, I would have stopped right there and ran home to our shabby little apartment in Brooklyn. But it wasn’t, and I didn’t. And as good as that kiss was, the rest was even better.