by Briar Lane
“Oh, oh!” Rosie said excitedly. “Did you hear that?! She said girlfriends!”
I rolled my eyes again. “Rose, she meant girls who are friends. Like you two are to me? She’s not gay, she’s getting married, let it go.”
Rosie frowned and went back to her drink.
Catherine came back in just a second, and I was surprised to see she had a Long Island iced tea, too.
“Hey, drink twins!” I said, as I knocked my glass against hers.
“Yeah, yours looked really good,” she answered. “I haven’t had one in a long time. Honestly, I usually don’t drink them. They’re pretty strong, so, when I do, bad things tend to happen… but, what the hell?! This is my first real night out since I’ve moved here.”
“Oh? But I thought you said you’d been to this bar before?” I asked.
“Oh, I have, kind of,” she said, “but it was only because my fiancé was seeing his friends to watch a game here. I tagged along, and I had a beer, but, you know, it wasn’t really like going out.”
“Right,” I nodded.
“So,” Alex began, “fiancé, engagement, that’s gotta be exciting!”
“It is!” she tried to sound genuine, but it came off feeling forced.
“How long have you been together?” Rose asked.
“Oh, so long. Since our freshman year of college.”
“Aww! College sweethearts, that’s so cute!” Rose smiled.
“Yeah, he’s really sweet. I just adore him. I can’t wait to marry that man.”
“When is the big day?” Alex questioned.
“In December.”
“Aw, a winter wedding! That’s adorable!” Rose gleamed.
Ugh, all this wedding talk was going to drive me crazy. First off, I get enough pointless wedding talk at work. And, second, this all felt so fake.
I mean, okay, Catherine probably really did adore her fiancé, and I’m sure she really is excited about the wedding. I’m not necessarily saying she’s lying about that. She’s probably not.
It’s just, underneath the love and excitement, there are clearly problems in her relationship that she’s pretending just don’t exist. And I get that, too, who would just start in on their relationship issues with people they just met? That would be weird.
But, it also felt weird how we, as a society, glorify all the happy parts of a relationship and put them on display while we ignore all the troubles. From the outside looking in, I bet it seems that Catherine and her fiancé have the perfect relationship. I imagine she posted all her engagement photos on social media and got tons of likes from her old college girlfriends who are jealous of her having the perfect relationship that is leading into the perfect marriage.
And, yet, she shows up at my flower shop by herself, looking very upset as she picked out flowers that are supposed to remind her of the happiest day of her life. I don’t know, it’s sad to me, it’s depressing. Why do we have to be so fake about our relationships?
And, why even get married to someone who can’t even be bothered to go pick out some flowers with you for your wedding? Like, okay, I know I’m mostly overgeneralizing. There could be a lot of valid reasons to not be there to pick out flowers with your fiancé, but Catherine hadn’t made it seem like there were any valid reasons. She’d seemed like she had just been ditched. And she hadn’t seemed too thrilled with her husband to be.
I guess this shouldn’t bother me. It’s not my life, not my relationship, not my concern. But, on some level, it makes me worry about relationships in general.
Are all relationships just like this? Can you ever find someone you’re totally thrilled about, who doesn’t also make you miserable in some way?
I didn’t want to think about this. Because, as picky and cynical as I was, I still truly held out hope that I’d find someone one day who made me extremely happy, who I could spend the rest of my life with. I didn’t like thinking that might not be possible.
“Do you want to dance?!” I asked suddenly, eager to stop talking about this wedding stuff and do something else.
“Oh, I don’t know…” Catherine said hesitantly. “I’m not a big dancer…”
“Nobody’s a professional here!” I urged. “You can look like a fool, that’s fine, we all do it, right, girls?” I nodded at Rosie and Alex.
“Totally,” Rosie nodded.
“That’s just part of girls’ night!” I egged her on. “Getting on the dance floor and making a fool out of yourself. It isn’t girls’ night if you can’t get drunk and dance.”
She cracked a smile. “Okay, alright, fine! Let’s do it!”
Alex, Rosie, and I let out a little cheer as we downed the rest of our drinks and made our way to the dance floor. Catherine followed our lead, because it’s awkward to take your cup to dance, and it’s completely stupid to leave your drink alone, let alone some psycho tries to drug you.
Unfortunately, unlike the rest of us, her drink was brand new. She had only gotten a few sips in, so she had to chug the whole drink in a few seconds. Which she did like a pro; she had clearly done her fair share of drinking before, but she did look a little tipsy after drinking the whole thing so fast.
But, that’s probably for the better. She was clearly nervous to dance, and, this way, she could let loose a little bit.
We all danced to the latest popular pop songs that the DJ played. It wasn’t great music, in my opinion, but it was fun and easy to dance to, and it really seemed like Catherine was having a good time, which made me happy.
I had to really try to control my gaze, though. Despite what she had said, she was actually kind of a great dancer. She rolled her hips in perfect synchrony to the music. Her ass and her voluptuous breasts jiggled slightly at the movement, and it only drove home just how attractive she was. Perfect face, perfect hair, banging ass body, god I wish I could go for something with her…
God, Ellie, no! Stop it! She’s a straight girl, and you’re just tipsy and horny. Stop staring at her. Don’t make the poor girl uncomfortable.
To cover up my awkward staring, I moved in a little to talk to her.
“Are you having fun?!” I yelled over the music.
“Totally!” she said. “I think I’m going to get another drink from the bar! Want to come?!”
“Absolutely!” I agreed, as we stepped off the dance floor. I tried to ignore Alex and Rosie’s disapproving gazes as we stepped off.
At the bar, I ordered us two shots of tequila. If she’d ordered a Long Island, she can’t have a problem with tequila, right? And it was my favorite alcohol to shoot.
But, when we took the shots, there was no question. She took these like a champ, too. She didn’t even wince as she downed the shot and stuck a wedge of lime in her mouth, sucking the juices out before putting the lime ring back into the glass.
“One more?” she asked.
I laughed. “Let’s go for it.”
We took another one, and, by this time, Catherine was noticeably drunk. She may drink her liquor like a pro, but she clearly hasn’t been drunk in awhile, and it showed.
Alex and Rose met us at the bar. “Hey, before you two get too drunk, let’s head over to Wendy’s down the street? Their happy hour is about to start, and they have a live band tonight.”
“Sure,” I agreed, before turning to Catherine, “are you down?”
“I’m down for anything!” she said excitedly, as she linked her in arm within mine. “”Let’s go!”
I had to remind myself that the arm-linking thing was just a thing that straight girls did with their friends, especially when drunk. Because the warmth of her arm within mine sent a tingle down my spine, and I got the sudden urge to run my fingers through her hair.
At this level of drunk, there was certainly no way I was going to be able to control my gaze.
But, I think that’s okay. I’m positive that Catherine is way too damn drunk to notice. Not that I was going to take advantage of that or anything. I was still attempting to control myself, and
I definitely wasn't going to awkwardly flirt with her. It just soothed my paranoia to know that she probably wouldn’t notice when I slipped up.
Once we got outside of the crowded bar, it became pretty obvious to me why Catherine had linked her arms within mine. It wasn’t just a cute, friendly, drunk girl gesture like I had originally thought. I think this girl legitimately felt like she needed to be steadied to walk.
She obviously wasn’t so wasted that she couldn’t walk on her own. Of course not, she was just drunk. She wasn’t out of her mine shit-faced or anything.
But, she was wearing these heels that were way too far off the ground. And, it seemed like maybe she hadn’t worn heels in a long time. I remember, when she’d come to the flower shop, she’d been wearing flats, even though she’d had on women’s business attire, which most women usually wore heels with.
So, I got the feeling that she just didn’t like heels that much. I couldn’t blame her, I didn’t like them myself. But, obviously, in the fun of getting dressed up, she had chosen to wear them, and, now, she was stuck being inexperienced in high heels while also trying to navigate being tipsy for the first time in awhile. Which was obviously a messy combination.
She was actually handling herself okay, though. Like, the awkwardness was obvious to me since she was hanging on and she would falter every now and then, but, to anyone else, she just looked like a cute, bubbly drunk girl. No big deal.
“Thanks so much for inviting me out,” she told me. “I’m having a great time.”
We were far enough behind Rose and Alex that I didn’t think they’d be hearing our conversation, which was good, because I didn’t want to get any shit for it later.
“I’m really glad. You deserve it. You seemed really stressed yesterday when you came into the flower shop.”
“Ugh, yeah, I’m sorry for unloading on you,” she shook her head. “I wish I hadn’t.”
“Well, why would you wish that?” I asked. “You need people to vent to sometimes.”
“I know, I know, but I feel like I made like my fiancé look like a total douche—”
“Well, he was kind of being one, wasn’t he?” I asked.
She laughed drunkenly. “Okay, yeah, actually, he was. And he’s been one a lot lately! I mean, I really do love him. I’ve been in love with him for so many years, but… it’s like he completely takes me for granted now. He likes going out with his friends, seeing his boys, but I don’t feel like he even likes going out with me. I’m nothing to him… that’s how I feel, anyway.”
I rubbed her hand gently. Not flirtily, but like a friend would do.
“I’m sorry. You don’t deserve that. It happens in relationships sometimes. You’ve been together so long, and you don’t see why the other person is so damn special. But you are, you know. You’re a beautiful, smart, funny girl, and he’s an ass if he’s not cherishing that.”
“Yeah!” she said emphatically. “Yeah, you’re right! You’re totally, completely right! And I’m going to tell him that! I don’t have to deal with this, you know? You’re right, I just deserve better. He should know.”
“He should know!” I agreed emphatically.
“Yeah! I don’t have to go into my wedding feeling inadequate! I should feel like a queen! I’m gonna tell him!”
“You go, girl,” I got real girl-powery when wasted. But, sometimes girl power encouragement was necessary.
“Thank you! You’re so sweet. Really. It’s been so long since I’ve made friends. I forgot how much I missed having nice girlfriends.”
“Don’t even mention it,” I told her. “I love making new friends. You can literally call me anytime you need to vent or get out of the house, seriously.”
“Well, I’ll probably take you up on that offer!”
“I hope you will,” I smiled at her. And I truly meant it.
20
Catherine
I was more than a little hung-over when I woke up the next day. After the pub, we’d ended up going to two more bars, and I’d drank at every single one of them.
But, the pounding headache was totally worth it, because I had a blast. Seriously, I haven’t had that much fun in a long time. I forgot how much I missed having girlfriends and my own life outside of Johnathon.
And, honestly, after talking with Ellie, I realized that it was more than fun I was missing out on. Not having my own life has somehow made me the kind of person that allows myself to be walked all over by Johnathon. And I wasn’t going to let it happen anymore.
Like, seriously, when had I become like this? When had I become the girl who lets her fiancé treat them like total garbage?
Okay, total garbage was a little bit of an exaggeration. I guess I was still a little irritated after venting last night. He didn’t treat me like total garbage; he just wasn’t all that kind to me lately. Like, it felt like everything I did for him went unnoticed. I felt like he didn’t actually value me as a person at all anymore.
And that’s just not how I’d imagined I’d feel when I was on the verge of getting married. I’d thought my fiancé would make me feel loved, wanted, on top of the world. I’d thought I’d feel like the most important girl in his world.
Well, I don’t. And something had to give. Because I just wasn’t happy this way. And I bet he probably wasn’t, either.
Johnathon was snoring away next to me. I’d thought for sure he would be here when I got home last night, which was late.
It was about 3:30am when I got home. The bars closed at 2:00am, and I was completely, out of my mind, drunk. We all were. But Ellie could handle herself the best of us, and she called me a cab and paid for it before she sent me on my way. I had taken one into town, so I wouldn’t have to worry about driving drunk, and I’d planned to take one back. I would have, regardless, but it was sweet she organized it for me and paid.
I really liked her. I knew we’d only spent one night out, but she just seemed like such a great girl. She seemed to really genuinely care about my problems, and she also knew how to keep things lighthearted and fun. She reminded me of some of my besties back home. And I feel genuinely blessed to have met her.
I really hope she’d meant it when she’d told me that I could call her to vent at any time or hang out with her whenever. I seriously needed a new friend in town. I wish I’d met her a while ago, if we’d gotten close before this, I could’ve put her in my wedding!
I looked over at Johnathon, snoring soundly. I wonder what time he got home. Normally, I’d question it if I was here at 3am, and he wasn’t. But, I’d been so plastered last night, I didn’t even care. I was still wearing my outfit. I literally just fell into bed and knocked out.
I never even heard Johnathon get home. I wonder if I would have reacted if I did. I really wanted to have a serious conversation with him, but I’m not sure if I would have sat him down and told him that last night. I probably would’ve kept sleeping.
But, I wanted to have that conversation now. So, I was eagerly awaiting him waking up.
I not so subtly rolled over in bed, hoping that I’d jostle him enough to open his eyes. He had always been a light sleeper, but, sure enough, he rubbed his eyes and looked at me.
“Morning, babe,” he muttered to me.
“Morning,” I told him, more coldly than I’d intended. “What time did you get home last night?”
“Oh, me? Uh…” he seemed to be thinking too hard about this. “2am?”
I raised an eyebrow. “2am? But I didn’t get home until 3:30, and you weren’t here.”
“Oh, uh, not sure then. Must have lost track of time. I was pretty drunk.”
I sighed. “Yeah, so was I.”
“Did you have a good time?” he asked.
“Yeah, actually, I really did. You?”
“Yep,” he said, as he started to roll out of bed.
“Wait, John,” I stopped him, “we need to talk.”
He whipped around, looking at me worriedly. “About what?”
“About…
” How was I even going to word it? “About how things have been going between us?”
“Okay…” he sat back down on the edge of the bed hesitantly.
“So, I just feel like you’ve been taking me for granted lately…” I began nervously. A lot of my resolve from last night had dissipated.
“Taking you for granted how?”
“You know, I don’t know, it’s just like you don’t even care about spending time with me anymore?”
“Well, yeah, I see you every night. It’s not like I’m going to make a big deal about it or anything. I literally see you everyday,” he wasn’t getting it.
“Exactly! That’s the problem! You know, I used to feel special. And then we got used to being around each other all the time, and, suddenly, I don’t feel special anymore. I am just this woman you see every day who you don’t really appreciate or notice…”
“I notice you. I think you’re special,” he said.
“Do you?” I asked. “I don’t know, I just don’t feel it… I thought, after you proposed, I’d feel like we were really in love.”
“Babe, this is just how things get. People get comfortable and complacent. It happens. This is just the cycle. Things get boring.”
Ouch… he didn’t need to use that word. Great, so things were boring with me now.
“Yeah…” I said softly, “well, I’m not sure all couples reach this point of complacency…”
He scoffed. “I assure you, they do.”
“Well, other couples I know still have date nights and at least attempt to rekindle things!” I argued.
“Okay, yeah, sure, let’s do that,” he said. “Let’s have date nights.”
I just didn’t feel satisfied with this answer.
“It’s about more than that, you know. It’s about actually making time for me and seeming like you care about the time you spend with me.”
He sighed. “Well, I do care. And I’ll show you, okay?”
“Okay…” I said.