Then Comes Marriage (7 page)

“So this is it?”

The anger drops like a heavy book. “Yes.” The word leaves me, freeing something. The emotion shocks me, sends a jolt down my spine, and suddenly I’m looking at Travis like he’s a stranger. There is too much unsaid between us, too much buried in lies. As hard as it is to let go and figure out how to move on, I know what has to be done. “This is it.”
 

~*~

The tiny bit of inner peace I felt last night is gone when I wake up. My heart hurts so much, and I feel like such a loser. Though it’s no excuse, did I neglect Travis? Using the men-have-needs line is complete and utter bullshit, one I never would have bought into, but right now I’m weak and wondering if I was a crappy girlfriend that would have become a shitty wife.
 

I stay in bed all morning, watching daytime TV and crying. Knowing that I have to deal with this is salt in the wound, and the pain from my broken heart manifests physically, radiating into my fingers and toes. I don’t think I could get up and out of bed if I tried. It’s just too much, and I don’t know what will be worse: having to see Travis again tonight or having to tell my parents the news.
 

How do I even break that sort of news? Start with a soft opener of good news bad news? And what kind of good news do I even have?
Hey Mom, it’s me. Good news is I’m alive today. Bad news is, Travis cheated on me and the wedding is off and I’m basically dead anyway, so that good news is a lie.
 

I sniffle and rub at my eyes. I am alive. I am healthy. I have a job and a house. I might share this house with a complete and total dickmuffin but I’m safe and warm. Well, safe and cool. It’s fucking hot outside.
 

Going through my mental list of thanks only makes me feel worse because in the grand scheme of things, this isn’t going to bring about the start of the apocalypse. The gates of Hell have only opened for me, and me alone. I close my eyes and think about the world and all its problems. I’m really fucking insignificant…which makes me feel all sorts of lonely and depressed.
 

Way to go, Rachel. Great time to go all existential.

The only way to get out of my head is to get out of bed. Needing to stay busy, I divide stuff up. The things I want go on the kitchen table for easy packing later. I leave Travis’s stuff where it is. He’ll stay here, I think. We did come out this way for his job.
 

And that reminds me of the screenshots I have waiting for me in my Facebook messages. Which in turn reminds me I’ve neglected my social media accounts for two days, and I go into a moment of panic. Fuck, why does my brain have to work like this? One disaster at a time, please.
 

I have to send those photos to Shana’s husband. He deserves to know. But that could destroy their marriage, and I’d be the reason behind it…

“No,” I say out loud. “Not me. I didn’t cheat on anyone.”
 

I get my phone with the intentions of finding Shana’s husband on Facebook, and see that I have more texts from Lauren. One is asking me if I watched the season finale of
Once Upon a Time
yet, and another is a picture of a litter of puppies she was working with in one of her vet classes.

I want to ask her what to do. She’s always been the one I turn to for advice. Though she’ll never admit it, Lauren’s the wise one in this friendship. She thinks things through and can see both sides. I let out a breath. I don’t want to upset her; she’s got enough going on with school and her baby. And I’m tired. I don’t want to talk about this right now.

The phone rings almost immediately after I set it down. It’s work, and my finger hovers over the red decline button before I answer it.

“Hello?”

“Rachel, hi. It’s MaryAnne. How are you doing, hun?”

I roll my eyes. She doesn’t care. I should proceed with “what the hell do you want?” but go with something more polite. “I’m good, how are you?”

“Oh, you know,” she starts with a chuckle. “Another day another dollar, right? So we had a call off for midnights. I know you’re off today, but could you come in and help us out? I’d really appreciate it.”
 

My first thought is
Oh hell no
. I’m tired. And I know we’re short staffed with nurses’ aides on the midnight shift, which make being on the memory care unit difficult. But it would get me out of the house…

“No,” I say and feel relief. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

“I have no one else to fill that spot.”
 

My eyes narrow. She could fill in. I’ve seen her fill holes in the schedule, uh, never. “I’m sorry,” I say again. “But I can’t.”

“Well, why not?” Her fake charm is gone.
 

“Personal reasons,” I say, knowing she can’t actually ask or expect an answer. Tonight is my night off. I don’t owe her shit.

“You’re really going to abandon your patients for personal reasons?”

My mouth opens but I got nothing. Other than spewing profanities, how the hell do you respond to that?

“I’ll see you Wednesday for my shift. I’m sorry I can’t do tonight.”
 

She hangs up without saying bye. What a piece of work. I lean against the kitchen counter and close my eyes, feeling so lost. Not knowing what else to do, I keep packing until everything I own is in piles in the kitchen. The closer it gets to Travis coming home from work, the more anxiety I feel.
 

A gust of wind blows through the open kitchen window, bringing with it a promise of rain. I miss the smell of rain. It’s so much drier here in Texas, I don’t get hit with that wonderful smell very often. A wave of homesickness comes on, gripping what’s left of my broken heart. I want out of here.
 

I need out of here.
 

We can’t live like this, going from lovers to strangers in an instant. Tears pool in my eyes behind closed lids. It took a month of talking and flirting before Travis and I went on our first date. It took two more months before we became exclusive. And another two before we confessed our love, a love that grew stronger and stronger until we both knew there was no one else.
 

What grew so beautifully for years is wilted, disintegrating into the soil it once sprouted from. And I’m coming apart along with it.
 

So I retreat back to my bed, and start an apartment search. I don’t know Dallas well enough to wisely—or safely—pick a new place to live. Going by my salary alone limits me, unless I get a roommate…which gives me an idea. A bad idea. Lauren calls when I’m about to check Craig’s list for wanted roommates.
 

She’s someone who prefers texting and messaging on Facebook over calling, so either something really good or something really bad has happened. I can’t
not
answer her.

“Hello?”

“Thank goodness,” she says. “You’re alive.”
 

Barely. “Yeah,” I exhale, voice wavering.
 

“What’s wrong? You didn’t reply to my texts and you haven’t updated your blog or anything in a few days.”
 

Lauren isn’t into fashion like I am, but she’s a good enough friend to follow and support me. Tears fill my eyes.
 

“Rachel? Are you okay?”

The tears roll down my cheeks. “No. I’m not okay.” I break down crying, holding the phone away so I don’t sob in Lauren’s ear.

She doesn’t ask what’s wrong. She doesn’t tell me to get it together. She only says she’s on her way.

~*~

“You’ll get through this,” Lauren says. She’s sitting next to me on the couch, squished up close, sharing a blanket and holding my hand. She and her boyfriend Noah arrived about an hour ago. They took an overnight flight, and left their daughter back in Michigan. It’s the first time Lauren has been away from her. It’s taken me nearly the whole hour to explain what happened since I kept stopping, overcome with heartache. “You are stronger than you know.”

I wipe my cheek with the back of my hand. “I’m not strong. I’ve been a mess this whole time.”
 

“You are strong,” she repeats. She believes it with her whole heart. I don’t want to let her down.
 

My hair falls around my face. “Then why do I feel so lost?”

“Because this is a shitty situation,” she says bluntly. “I don’t know what I would do if…” she trails off, moving her gaze to Noah. “If you didn’t feel lost, that would be weird. But know you have me. I’ll be your GPS.”

My lower lip quivers and tears fill my eyes once again. I sniffle but can’t control my emotion. “I love you.”
 

“I love you, too,” she whispers back, tears rolling down her own face. “I hate that this happened. I wish I knew magic words to make it better.”
 

“Me too, but the magic words I want to know would make Travis’s dick rot and fall off.”
 

“Bot flies.” Lauren’s eyes widen. “Get one of those suckers to lay an egg in his shaft. Or anywhere on his body. The maggots are pretty nasty. And the whole thing is painful. We just removed a ton from a horse’s stomach. It was awesome.”
 

“I’ve seen regular maggots. Are bot fly maggots bigger?”

Lauren smiles. “I have pictures, wanna see?”

“I do.”
 

She turns to grab her phone from the coffee table, and I get a glimpse of Noah’s face. “You both are weird,” he says and shakes his head.
 

“I’m a nurse, she’s a vet…nothing really fazes us anymore.” I smile for the first time since Sunday.
 

“I know,” Noah says. “Lauren shows me pictures all the time. I think I’m getting used to it too.” His eyes fall on Lauren and he smiles. It’s easy to turn that moment into something negative. To feel pangs of jealousy over something I don’t have anymore. But when everything falls apart you have to remember that some things fall together. I’m wallowing in sorrow, brain constantly reminding me of all the good times I no longer have, and yet I cannot recall a single time Travis looked at me that way.
 

Like I’m the only thing that matters.
 

Obviously, I wasn’t. I take in a deep breath and stretch out my legs and groan. “I need coffee,” I mumble.

“Want me to make some?” Lauren offers.
 

I shake my head. “There should still be some in the pot.”
 

“I’ll get it,” Noah offers and stands. “I know how Lauren likes her coffee, but what about you, Rachel?”

“Black, like my shriveled dead heart,” I say dryly.

“When have you even liked black coffee?” Lauren quips.

“You’re right.” I get up and pull a bottle of Irish Whiskey from the fridge and pour it into a coffee mug, then take a drink.

“Forgetting something?” Lauren asks.

“Huh?” I sit back down next to her.

“Coffee.”
 

I take another drink and raise my eyebrows. “Don’t be so judgmental.”
 

Lauren smiles and rolls her eyes. “What are you going to do?” she asks softly.
 

I take another drink and shake my head. “I’m not sure. I can’t stay here living like this. I want to go home. I’ve wanted to go home for a while.” My mind flashes back to something my mom said when we were visiting at Christmas. She was surprised to learn that I hadn’t really made any friends here yet. I’m social and like to talk, so it was unlike me. When I couldn’t explain why I hadn’t found anyone to hang out with yet, she suggested that it was some sort of subconscious protest for moving here. I thought it was metaphysical bullshit at the time, but now I’m seeing the truth in her words.
 

“Did you ever like Travis?” I ask Lauren.
 

She turns to Noah, mouth opening. He shakes his head ever so slightly, but that’s all I need.
 

“Why not?”
 

“He was just kind of mean to you,” she says carefully. “I don’t think he cheated on you the whole time you were together, but that respect that people in love have for each other always seemed to be missing. I’ve heard you say more negative things about the way he treats you than positive since you’ve moved here.” She pauses, eyebrows pushing together. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You’re not mad, are you?”
 

“No, because I completely agree with you.” I take another drink and maybe it’s the company of my best friend or the booze, but I feel a tiny bit of relief. Canceling the wedding and having to face everyone is going to suck some big old hairy balls. Balls that haven’t been bathed in a few days and have been dangling between a pair of thick, sweaty legs in this Texas heat.
 

But I’ll get over it.
 

Marrying Travis isn’t something that can easily be gotten over. The scab is still fresh, but the wound is healing. And maybe—just maybe—this forced me to dodge a bullet.
 

~*~

“This is everything?” Lauren asks, setting a folder on the coffee table.
 

“Yeah. It’s all in there…I think.”
 

She nods and opens the folder, flipping through papers as she makes a list. “And your dress hasn’t been altered yet, right?”

“Not yet.” I let out a strangled laugh. “This is one time my procrastination has paid off.” Lauren gives me an empathetic smile. “Thanks,” I tell her. “For doing this.”
 

“You don’t have to thank me.” She jots down a few more notes, completing the list of all things wedding related that need to be canceled. “I’ll start calling now. I doubt I’ll get through to everyone, but I can at least leave messages.”
 

“Seriously, thank you. I know how much you hate talking on the phone…or to anyone in person. Do you still rehearse your order before you tell the waiter at restaurants?”

“I’ve gotten her over that,” Noah says proudly. “She’s much better with that sort of thing now. She even called the cable company and complained the other day.”

“It was awful,” Lauren says and her eyes meet mine. I feel a bit of my heart go back into place. “This is the least I can do to help you, Rach.” She goes into the kitchen and calls someone involved in the wedding. I try not to pay attention.