Ricochet (9 page)

I
wasn’t sure what to do. I could make a scene. Wake them both up, curse and
rant, knock over some furniture. My head hurt too much for all that. I could go
home, lock my door, and change my phone number. Never talk to Cash again. That
would require that I locate my clothes, put them on, and walk back to my
apartment. I wanted to just collapse back onto the floor. My eyes burned and
every muscle on my body hurt. I decided that I was just going to embrace the
bullshit, and climb back into bed with them. Cash was near the edge of the bed,
so I had to crawl in on the other side next to Claire. She stirred as I pulled
the blankets up to my chin. My head was still spinning.

I
stared at Cash and Claire as I tried to fall back asleep. She was facing away
from him with her head rested on his arm. He draped his other arm across her
body. They breathed slowly and steady. I felt like I was intruding on something
I wasn’t supposed to see. Like I wasn’t welcome here. Maybe I wasn’t. Maybe I
was just the catalyst that would make Claire and Cash realize their feelings
for each other, put their differences aside, and ride off on a white horse. Tears
started sliding out of my eyes. I’m sure Cash will have some eloquently worded
explanation. Regardless of what words rolled off his tongue, or what
justification he provided to explain away their raw intimacy, there was no way
he loved me like he loved her. That he
could
love me like he loved her. Cash lit a fire inside of me that I couldn’t
snuff out, but maybe I should just let it burn me down.

Claire
must have gotten out of bed at some point in the night. When I woke up, I was
pressed up against Cash, and Claire was lying on her stomach at my side. I
snapped my eyes back shut and grabbed Cash tight. I wasn’t ready to wake up. I
wasn’t ready to deal with what I needed to deal with this morning. I wanted to
lay here and pretend everything was still okay. I wanted to lie here, breathing
in Cash’s sandalwood and bergamot skin. This morning could go fuck itself. When
we all start to stir, I have to make a difficult decision. I might have to walk
away. What the fuck am I talking about? I definitely need to walk away. Cash
broke the unspoken threesome code. You don’t let your girlfriend pass out in
the bathroom, fucked up on drugs and alcohol, and let the ménage trios turn
into a ménage deux. You don’t fall asleep cuddling with the non-girlfriend
participant, while said girlfriend is passed out in the bathroom, fucked up on
drugs and alcohol.

I
don’t want to deal with this. I wish I could just pretend it never happened. I
wish I could go back and not open my fucking mouth. I wish I could change my
mind, tell him to stop seeing her. I did this to myself. I might be
rationalizing at this point, but I really did do this to myself. All of it. All
of the negative emotions I’ve experienced in regards to Cash I brought upon
myself. I pursued him even when every sensibility told me to run the other
direction. I asked to watch him with Claire. I insisted she come back over. I
self sabotaged. I let out a tiny sob as tears pour from my eyes.

“Hey,
Lilly, are you okay?” Cash asks, groggily.

“Yeah,
I think, I don’t know, I’m sorry,” I sob.

“Claire.
Hey. Claire. You need to get up. You need to leave,” Cash says, reaching across
me to shake her.

“Fuck
you, motherfucker,” she responds, pulling the blanket over her head with a
flourish of middle fingers.

“Let’s
go over to your place,” Cash suggests. I nod in agreement. He gathers my
clothes and hands them to me, helping me pull my shirt over my head. We walk to
my apartment in silence. He followed me to my bedroom, where I collapsed on the
bed, wailing into the pillow. I had been holding back, and now that I was back
in my own space, the waterworks came full force.

“What’s
going on?” Cash asked.

“Really?
Really, motherfucker? I woke up in the middle of the night on the bathroom
floor. You never stopped fucking Claire, and then fell asleep
holding
her. You didn’t even come check
on me or take me back to bed,” I snapped, wiping my tears. Time to get my shit
together and do this.
 
Cash hung his
head in his hands.

“I’m
sorry. We were all really fucked up. What can I do? How can I make it right?”
he pleaded.

“I
don’t think you can make it right. I think I’m over this. All of…
this.
This bullshit. I don’t think it’s
worth it,” I contended.

“Lilly,
don’t do this. Please. Claire is done. Gone. I’m so sorry. I’ll make it worth
it. I’ll show you that this is not what life is like with me. You wanted to
peek in, you saw it, now it’s over and we can move on,” he whispered, moisture
in his eyes.

“Why?
Why does it matter?” I asked, defeated.

“Because.
It matters. It matters to me,” he replied.

“Why?”
I repeated.

“Because
I love you, Lilly.”

These
past few months have been a whirlwind; I’ll give him that. He’s made me feel
things I’ve never felt before. We’re compatible in all the ways that matter. We
both vote democratic unless the candidate is a fucking idiot. We both prefer
Miracle Whip to mayonnaise. We like the same TV shows. We listen to similar
music. We fit together. But do I love him? Do I even know what love is? I don’t
think I’ve ever actually been in love; I think I’m just very dramatic. I feed
so deeply into the great American fairy tale that tolerating someone for longer
than a couple months translates into love for me. I thought I loved Hunter. I
thought I loved the boyfriend before that. I always think its love until I look
back through the lens of hindsight. Am I going to look back on Cash the same
way in a few years? Am I going to use him as a basis of comparison for future
lovers?

“I
just can’t do this, Cash,” I reiterated.

“Then
don’t. We won’t do this, ever again. You will never, ever have to feel this way
again,” he promised.

“Really?”
I asked, hopefully.

“Really,”
he assured me.

“Okay.
Any more bullshit and I’m done. I just do not have the emotional capacity to
deal with any more bullshit like this. I never want to see that smug little
cunt again, or hear about her, or see any of them, or hear about any of them. I
thought I might be open minded enough to be cool with you still doing this, but
I’m really fucking not. If you want to be with me, it needs to be just me. I’m
sorry,” I exclaimed.

“Don’t
be sorry. You’re all that I want,” Cash said sweetly.

“As
it should be. I’m going to take a shower,” I sighed.

“I’ll
join you,” Cash suggested. I shrugged my shoulders. We took an awkward shower
where one of us was huddled in the corner freezing, waiting for our turn under
the faucet, the entire time. I jumped out when I was done to let him finish
alone. I pulled my wet hair into a bun and ran naked to my bedroom, leaving the
only clean towel behind for Cash. I quickly dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt
and took him the pajamas that I had stolen from him to change into. We crawled
into my bed, still damp.

“You
kind of left me hanging,” Cash teased.

“What?”
I asked, genuinely confused.

“I
said something, and you didn’t really acknowledge it,” he said.

“Seriously?
Are you fucking fourteen? I know what you said. Don’t say it again. That’s a
whole other level of bullshit that I cannot deal with right now,” I snapped.

“Message
received. Yes, I am fourteen, by the way. If not in body, then in spirit,” Cash
laughed. I rolled my eyes.

“How
long are you going to let her sleep in your apartment? Are you going to tell
her today?” I asked.

“She’ll
leave when she wakes up and I’m not there. Let’s just hang out over here today.
And no, I’m not going to tell her in person. I’m just gonna send out that
email,” he replied.
 
This was very
strange to me. I didn’t understand how he could be so raw and emotionally
charged with her in bed and then crumple her up and throw her away. Even if she
was aware of the terms and conditions of their at-will relationship, and was
the literal spawn of Satan, she probably deserved better than that. But, you
know what? I’m going to let this thought float out into the universe and learn
when to shut the fuck up. Meddling in Cash’s relations with other women has
done nothing but hurt me. I’ll let him handle this one.

Cash
spent the night that night, and it was the first night that we spent together
that we didn’t have sex. I still enjoyed his company, lending a little
reassurance that we didn’t have a purely sexual relationship. We didn’t talk
anymore about what had happened the night before, and he didn’t pick up his
phone. I don’t think he even remembered to grab it as we left his place this
morning. It was nice to have his undivided attention. We fell asleep in each
other’s arms, and in the morning he made pancakes. He went home to get ready
for work. I kissed him at the door and spent the rest of the day smiling
stupidly. I floated through work, unable to focus on anything but Cash. I
knocked on his door when I got home, but I’d beat him there. I let myself into
my apartment and began to flit around tidying it. I’d been spending so much
time at Cash’s that I’d let an inch of dust accumulate on every surface of my
home.

He
said he loved me. I didn’t say it back, but that doesn’t change the fact that
he said it. It exists now, it’s a thing that happened and it’s out here in the
world. It filled me with warmth. There’s something about hearing “I love you,”
for the first time that turns you into a bumbling fucking idiot, even if you’re
not sure if it’s true or if you feel the same way. I could love Cash. I might
be certain that I love him already if it wasn’t for all the bullshit that’s
been in the way. You take out all that bullshit and what’s left seems pretty
powerful and real.

My
daydream was interrupted by a knock at the door. I smiled. I am determined to
be happy. I’m not going to let Saturday derail what we’ve been building here.
I’m not going to let some slutty little sorority girl fuck this up either.
We’re going to move forward, and we’re going to do it together, and we’re going
to build something great.
 
I open
the door.

“Sup,
bitch?” Claire sneered over the top of her oversized tortoise shell sunglasses.

Fuck.

“What
the fuck are you doing here?” I spit.

“Cash
told me today that he doesn’t want to see me anymore. He swears up and down
that it is one hundred percent his decision, and has nothing to do with you.
But we both know that’s bullshit, don’t we?” Claire accused, making her way in
the door and sitting on the couch in a flourish of blonde curls.

“Really?
That’s weird. I have no idea why that would be,” I mocked.

“I
just don’t understand where this is coming from. After everything we did for
each other,” she sighed.

“You
got me fucked up and kept going to town on my boyfriend while I was passed out
in the bathroom. That was not fun for me, not what I would call a pleasurable
experience,” I contested.

“Okay,
bitch, first of all, do not act like I drugged you against your will. You’re
not some easily influenced little girl giving into peer pressure. It’s not my
fault that you can’t handle yourself. Second of all, what did you expect to
happen? Did you want us all to get blue balls because you’re a lightweight?
Newsflash, princess, the world doesn’t stop turning just because you party
foul. So we finished without you. Aren’t we just the fucking worst?” she
argued.

“What
do you want? Why are you here, to try to change my mind? Convince me that I
should totally just be cool with Cash continuing to fuck you? What are you
trying to accomplish?” I stressed.

“No,
I don’t want to change your mind. I just thought now would be a good time to
let you know just how fucking insignificant you are,” she mused, twirling her
hair in her fingers.

“That’s
funny because who in this situation is the girlfriend, and who is the one who
just got told to stay the fuck away? I’m confused,” I asked, gesturing between
us with my hands. Claire lets out a condescending laugh.

“Oh
you poor, sad, little bitch. You’re fleeting. You might think you know him, you
might even think you
love
him, but
you don’t know him the way I do. There is only one constant for Cash, and that
is me. I have always been there and I will always be here. He’s never been able
to stay away. You’re not special, so don’t think for a second that this time is
going to be any different,” she warned.

“However
you need to cope, honey. I’m glad you’re okay with being the eternal rebound.
I’m glad you’ll be there to console him if and when we break up,” I offered.

“Ha.
That’s so cute. You think I mean when you break up. I mean like when he settles
into the boring routine of arguing what to eat for dinner every night. When the
tingles fizz out and you stop being new and exciting. When you get to that
phase in your relationship where you start wearing sweatpants all the time and
stop shaving your legs. Why do you think him and Madison didn’t work out?” she
prompted.

“Because
she ran off with another guy,” I replied.

“But
did you ever wonder why? Why would a girl cheat on someone like Cash? He’s like
the closest thing to a Disney prince we’ll ever encounter in our lifetime. He’s
sweet, and sexy, smart, and financially stable- why would she throw all that
away for some douchebag with a man bun?” she prodded.

“What
made you throw it away? Why does anyone do anything?” I stuttered.

“He
proposed and I am not about that domestic shit. This isn’t about me. Well it
kind of is,” she chuckled, “Maddie ran off with Mr. Yoga Pants because Cash
kept coming home smelling like my perfume, with my panties in his pocket. He’s
a wolf in sheep’s clothing, Lilly. Even if he thinks he loves you, he’s going
to get bored, and he’s going to call
me.”

“You’re
really pathetic, Claire. And you need to leave,” I insisted. I could feel rage
building inside of me, burning hot and white.

“I
need to leave? Or what? Are you gonna
hit
me? You look like you want to hit me. Fuck my face up. Pull my hair. Just
remember, that’s foreplay, sweetheart,” Claire taunted. I bit the inside of my
cheek, hard. She was right; I did want to hit her. I hadn’t been in a fistfight
since high school. She was also correct that doing so wouldn’t be very
satisfying. Not after seeing the things she has done to her for fun. I rubbed
my temples. Woosah, motherfucker.

“Bitch,
I might. You just, you, you need to leave,” I stuttered. Claire stood and
scooped up her phone and sunglasses.

“I
just really hope you take my advice and get far, far away from him. I would
really hate for you to come home from work early and find me tied up in the
bathtub,” she said as she left, slamming the door behind her. I couldn’t help
but wonder how much of what she said was true and how much was just her
projecting her own insecurity trying to hurt me. I should probably cool off for
a little bit before I try to talk to Cash about it. I decide to text him
instead.

You home yet?

“Delivered”
immediately turned to “Read,” and ellipses popped up on my screen.

Yeah what’s up

I decided I needed to confront him in
person. So I could try to read if he was lying or downplaying. I couldn’t
decide which discovery I needed to bring up first; the fact that he was engaged
to Claire, or that he lied about Madison. Would I even be able to tell if he
was lying? Do I know him? At all? Or am I enamored with this version of him I
have created in my head? I walk next door, letting myself in. Cash was sitting
on the couch, drinking a beer. I was visibly shaken.

“Are
you okay?” he asked, standing to greet me.

“Claire
just came to chat,” I replied.

“
Fuuuuuck
. I told her to stay away. Why didn’t you tell me? I
would have come over. What did she say?” he asked.

“Oh,
ya know. Just that I mean nothing to you and you’ll get bored and come running
back to her. Also that you used to be engaged, and that Madison left you
because you were cheating on her with Claire,” I blurted. Why not just get it
all out there and let him decide which to respond to.

“Fuck,
Lilly. I’m sorry. She’s insane. I’ve told you that from the get-go. Don’t let
her get to you,” he shrugged.

“That’s
it? Just ‘don’t let her get to you?’ You’re not going to address the shit she
dropped on me? That you were fucking
engaged?
I thought you said your relationship was nothing. Not important. Not worth
mentioning,” I challenged.

“We
weren’t engaged technically. She said no and left. But it was nothing. I was
young and stupid. I was nineteen and thought I knew what love was,” he
responded.

“
Nineteen!
Nineteen? Are you fucking
kidding me? Aren’t you about to turn twenty-nine? You’ve been seeing her for
ten fucking years?” I gasped, plopping to the couch.

“Not
consistently,” Cash defended.

“Okay
so what about Madison? Did you cheat on her and send her running off into the
arms of another man?” I asked.

“That
makes it sound like a fucking soap opera. No. It wasn’t quite that poetic. She
was already cheating on me when I started seeing Claire again,” he replied.

“You
have an awful lot of excuses every time I catch you in a lie,” I retort.

“You
haven’t caught me in any lies. Maybe there were things I didn’t disclose fully,
but I have never lied to you. We’re still in a discovery period. We’re still
learning things about each other. Doesn’t mean I lied. I honestly didn’t think
those things would come up,” he asserted.

“Well
is there anything else I need to know about? Anything I might find shocking if
I was made privy by a third party? Ex wives? Illegitimate children?” I snapped.

“No.
I don’t. That’s all my dirty laundry out in the open,” Cash insisted.

“Do
you love her?” I asked.

“Who?
Claire?” Cash bleated, surprised.

“Who
the fuck else would I be talking about? Yes, Claire,” I barked.

“No,
I don’t fucking love her. She’s a terrible person. Lilly. She’s vapid and self-centered
and heartless. We have-
had
, a weird
relationship but love was never a part of it. But that’s done now, she’s… we’re
done. I’m not fucking with her anymore. The only thing I’m going to miss about
Claire is her coke. It’s just you and me, I promise,” he consoled.

“I’ve
noticed you make a lot of fucking promises too,” I charged.

“Because
I have nothing but the best intentions. I just… I just want to love you. I just
want to surprise you with flowers and leave you cute little notes and kiss you
at sunset and snuggle through rainy Sunday mornings, all punctuated by
mind-blowing orgasms. Is that too much to ask?” Cash teased.

“Ugh
you’re disgusting get away,” I replied, smacking him with a pillow. I was
finally starting to calm down.

“Why
do you hate love so much?” he asked, batting away my throw pillow attacks.

“I’m
scared of things I don’t understand. It’s the American way,” I laughed. Cash
scooted closer to me and took my hand in his. He kissed the back of my hand.

“Just…
just be advised that I am near my bullshit limit. No more bullshit?” I asked,
hopefully.

“No
more bullshit,” he promised.