by Anna Rezes
She was facing me, laughing as the music sped up and she went through the motions so quickly they all bled together. Then we were back arm in arm, and I couldn’t remember the last time I was so happy.
Once the song finished, she collapsed back onto the bed, laying on her back with her arms sprawled out to the sides while she caught her breath. “I don’t know the last time I laughed so hard,” she said to the ceiling. “Thank you for that, Oliver. I needed it.”
“I think we both did,” I said, sitting on the other bed.
She lifted to her elbow to look at me. “You are my favorite stranger.”
“I’m not a stranger. I’m just a new arrival.”
She grinned at me, saying, “Are you? Or are you just visiting?”
God, I hoped not. “I don’t know.”
She sprang off the bed, and rushed to the bathroom, saying, “Bathroom break!”
Once she reemerged, it was my turn because two bottles of wine is too much for one bladder.
She sat up straighter when I came out of the bathroom. Crossing her legs, she asked, “Do you think you’ll get back together with Addison?”
I sat across from her, wanting to say no, because sitting here with Willa, I couldn’t imagine going back to Addison, but the truth was, I didn’t know. “I don’t know,” I said. “We’ve been together for so long that being with her has become a reflex. She’s part of my routine. Like last night when I laid down, I wanted to call her and tell her goodnight. I’ve been so tempted to look at my phone that I left it in the truck so I wouldn’t cave.”
“Does anyone know where you are?”
“No. I didn’t know where I was going. I just drove until I felt like stopping. I had to go shopping once I got here because I didn’t pack anything.”
“Have you talked to anyone?” she asked.
“No.”
“Oliver! They’re probably worried sick about you. You need to tell someone.”
“I mean, Addison kinda knows.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That I needed time.”
“Is that all you said?” she asked with alarm.
“Basically,” I said, not remembering my exact words because at the time I had been blinded by her confession. I was too focused on escaping before I lost my dinner—the dinner she made me in preparation of bad news. Not even a mile from our house, I had to pull over on the road to get sick.
When I snapped out of my thoughts, I noticed Willa was gawking at me. “What?” I asked, feeling defensive.
She shook her head and swallowed. “Oliver, saying you need time is not the same as saying I’m breaking up with you. Does she even understand that you’re not together? Does she know you called off the wedding?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, I think so.”
She stood up in a tizzy. “Oliver!”
I sat up straighter. “What?”
“Saying you need time is not the equivalent to saying you can’t marry her!”
“She knew what I meant,” I said to vindicate myself.
“Did she?”
I started to second guess myself.
She ran her hands through her hair and turned away from me, exasperated.
I drove away from Addison late Saturday evening. Today was Tuesday, and it had been a few days since I talked to anyone. I stood, saying, “Could I borrow your phone to call my dad?”
She practically threw her phone at me.
I dialed my dad’s number and waited as it rang. I looked at the clock to see it was almost eleven. He answered, “Hello.”
“Hey, dad.”
“Hey, you getting excited about your big day?”
Fuck! I gripped a hand in my hair, trying to refrain from shouting obscenities. Instead, I looked to Willa who was biting her nails, looking both worried and cute as hell.
Focus!
“Dad, eh . . .” I squeezed my eyes closed and gritted my teeth. What the hell was I supposed to say? “Dad, let me call you back.” Before he could say anything, I hung up.
I was so angry that I couldn’t see straight. I started dialing Addison and Willa ripped the phone from my hand just as I was about to hit send. “You’re not calling her from my number.” She typed something in and handed the phone back to me. “Here, it’ll show up as a blocked call.”
I hit send, and Addison answered right away.
“Addison.” My voice was cold. I had never spoken to her this way. It hurt. It hurt me to be mean to her.
“Oli, Oh my God!” she sobbed. “I was so worried about you. Where are you?”
“Addison, why does my dad think we’re still getting married this weekend?”
She gasped. “Oli, you don’t mean that.”
I heard Travis in the background, and suddenly I was furious. This was the rage people felt when they discovered their significant other was cheating. Maybe it was just a delayed response. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, Addison. He’s there with you right now?”
“Umm . . .” she hesitated. “Yeah, but only because we were both so worried about you.”
“Worried about me?” I shook my head. “Fuck, Addison. Cancel the goddamn wedding. I can’t marry you.”
“Oli,” she sobbed, breaking my heart.
“Oli,” Travis said, coming on the line. “It’s not what you think.”
“Fuck you, Travis!” I hung up and went to chuck the phone across the room. I stopped myself just in time, remembering it was Willa’s phone. My heart was racing, and I really wanted to throw something. Instead, I tossed the phone onto the mattress and laced my fingers together on top of my head, shouting, “What the fuck?”
Willa’s sweet voice broke through my fury. “Wanna go break something?”
My eyes shot to her.
She smiled mischievously, waggling her eyebrows at me. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”
She didn’t wait for a response as she grabbed her phone and room key. She marched out the door and waited for me in the hall. She was such a mystery. I felt like I’d known her forever, but I knew nothing about her, and I really wanted to remedy that. I grabbed my key and followed her into the hall. She led me into her hotel room, saying, “I’m so glad I brought them with me.”
“Brought what with you?”
“You’ll see.” She grabbed her purse, and then we were right back out the door.
“Where are we going?” I asked as I went along with her down the hall.
After hitting the button for the elevator, she leaned against the wall, her body swaying to the side. She laughed at herself, and it was intoxicating.
“It’s possible that I’m having a delayed reaction to that wine,” she said.
I smirked. “You think?”
She shrugged. “It’s a possibizzle.”
The doors dinged open, and she spun to board the elevator. She stood against the back wall, watching as I pressed the button for the lobby.
With a coy grin, she said, “Honest truth. The first time we rode this elevator together, I was so nervous and distracted by you that I forgot to hit the button.”
My eyes slid down to the hem of her dress, but I was picturing the shorts she wore the day before. “Truth,” I said. “I really liked your shorts.”
Her index finger touched her lips as she tried to stifle a smile. I stared at those lips, wanting them more than I wanted to break something. I stepped towards her just as the elevator doors opened to a busy lobby.
I smiled as if I wasn’t just about to kiss her, but she knew. She threaded her fingers through mine and led me through the lobby and out to the parking lot. Her car was an older Toyota Camry, and for a moment, I worried she would try to drive. But she stopped at her trunk, opening the compartment. There seemed to be a lot of random things inside.
As an explanation, she said, “I still have a lot of things in here from the move.”
I didn’t know what move she was talking about, but I nodded like I understood because I didn’t want to risk making
her sad. She bent over to reach a box deep in her trunk, and her dress rose up her thighs.
There I was staring at her ass when she peeked back over her shoulder. She lifted an eyebrow and said, “Maybe instead of ogling me, you could lift this heavy box that I can barely reach.”
“Can’t I do both?”
She stood up and pointed at the box. I reached in and grabbed it, realizing she wasn’t joking about its weight. “What’s in here?”
She smiled. “These are plates Evan and I bought together.”
“Who is Evan?”
She seemed surprised I didn’t know. “My ex-husband,” she said, rolling her eyes.
There it was. The baggage that weighed her down and made her feel like she was barely treading water. Evan had turned her into this jaded woman who had lost her faith in men. I hated Evan.
She grabbed a thick linen bag. It looked like the bag Santa carried, except more durable. I had no idea where one would find such a thing or why they would need it, but Willa was full of surprises.
She looked up at me as she flung the empty bag over her shoulder and slammed her trunk. She asked, “Why are you laughing?”
“Where did you get that bag?”
“Don’t mock my bag. Come on,” Willa said, looking around as if she didn’t know where she was leading me. Maybe she didn’t. I was pretty sure she was making things up as she went, but I still followed her.
“This way.” She led me to the far end of the parking lot, towards a gas station right off the highway exit ramp. Over here, the freeway noises were more prominent, and the lights were faint. It was a place I would never want her to hang out alone.
She turned, saying, “You can set the box down.”
As soon as the box was on the ground, she was ripping it open to pull out a stack of white ceramic plates. She emptied the box, setting all the dishes on the ground except for two which she loaded into her Santa bag. She tightened the cords at the top, closing the bag. Hefting the bag onto her shoulder, she took a few steps away. Then she swung the bag over her shoulder with all the strength she possessed. It slammed against the pavement, and I heard the sound of shattering glass over the freeway noises. Willa smiled, looking satisfied. Then she repeated the action over and over, until the bag hung limp, all the glass shattered but contained.
She walked the bag back to me with a smile. After emptying the shards into the cardboard box, she handed the bag to me with an encouraging grin. “Allow yourself to feel all the anger and pain and then let it go.”
I nodded, following her example, smashing the plates until there was nothing but tiny shards. Even emptying the bag felt therapeutic, like I was pouring out all my problems. And surprisingly it wasn’t just Addison cheating on me. It was all the things I had been suppressing for so many years.
It was the time I gave up my career so Addison could go to medical school. It was the fact that she refused to marry me until she was stable in her career. I didn’t realize how much of my life I changed to fit her. I never even told her how I felt. I never fought for myself because I was so convinced that she was the best thing that had ever happened to me. I was whipped, and she never demanded it. I just did it, because . . . well, because it was Addison, and I loved her. But I was so busy admiring her that I overlooked the fact that I wasn’t happy.
Willa and I took turns, back and forth, until the plates were all destroyed. We didn’t speak. I was too busy processing, and she didn’t push me for my thoughts.
My head was spinning over all the things I hadn’t noticed before. Now that I was looking from a different perspective, I didn’t know how I was so blind. Understanding the severity of my loss made me feel heavier. I hadn’t just lost Addison. I had lost the last eleven years by living for someone else. I gave up my own goals to follow hers. The weight of the last eleven years shifted into something more substantial.
I couldn’t marry Addison even if she hadn’t been unfaithful. Knowing what I know now, I’m almost thankful she cheated. It just sucked that it was with Travis.
“What are you thinking?” Willa asked.
“I just realized I let Addison control my life. I’m relieved we aren’t getting married.” The weight seemed to release me as I spoke those words. I was free but grieving my life, my love, my friendship. I didn’t feel whole, but at least I was free.
I was grateful Willa didn’t respond because I didn’t think I could explain all that I meant. I picked up the box, asking, “Do you want to keep this?”
She shook her head no, and I walked off, carrying it to the gas station dumpster. I folded the top together to better contain the glass before disposing of it.
When I met back up with Willa, I collided with her body, pulling her in for a hug. She reciprocated, and I kissed her temple, whispering, “Thank you, Willa. I’m so happy I got stuck with the Pink fucking Moscato.”
Willa
Everything he did affected me, and as he whispered in my ear, I’m pretty sure he was really thanking me and not copping a feel. The hug was genuine and platonic for him. For me, it sent a fire straight to my lady parts. Maybe I was just feeling revved up because I just released so much pent up anger by breaking those ugly plates, but I had to make a mental note not to gyrate against him.
Dear Lord, help me. I don’t remember feeling this out of control with Evan, ever, not even in the very beginning.
Crazy ideas about love and destiny started playing in my head, and I did my best to squash them. I pulled away from him before I did anything stupid, and we started back toward the hotel. We made a pit stop by my car to drop off the bag. As I was closing the trunk, he said, “I’m not ready to go back inside.”
I could tell he was still sorting through some stuff in his head. I lifted myself to sit on the trunk, saying, “It’s a nice night.” I patted the spot next to me.
He eyed the car. “I don’t think that’s good for your car.”
I shrugged. “My car is a piece of shit. I should’ve gotten a new one a year ago, but I’m sentimental about this damn car. Now get your ass up here.”
He slid up to sit next to me, saying, “If you insist.”
We sat there for a moment. The sound from the highway was more subdued over here, reminding me of white noise. Oliver laid back, his back resting against my rear window. I tried to do the same but didn’t like the feel of the glass against the bare skin of my back. As I sat up, Oliver pulled me into him, tucking me into his side with my head resting against his chest while he looked up into the night sky.
Lying there with Oliver’s arm around me felt like the most natural thing in the world.
“Do you think everything happens for a reason?” he asked.
I shrugged against him. “Yes and no. I don’t believe in fate, but I believe that most of the time we have the opportunity to decide what we do with the cards we’re dealt.”
“I thought I understood my life, but now I can’t seem to make sense of things that used to make perfect sense to me.”
“We all think we see the world as it is, but the truth is, we are all living in our own little boxes, and when we look out at the world, we are looking through a pane of glass that has been tainted by our past experiences and current situations.”
“Why did you divorce your husband?” he asked out of the blue.
“I didn’t.” There was shame in my admission. “He divorced me after I found him in our bed with another woman.”
I felt him move, lifting his head to look down at me. I didn’t move, and eventually, he relaxed, but the arm that was around me shifted so his hand could pull the hair from my face.
I expected him to say words of sympathy, but instead, he asked, “Would you have divorced him if he didn’t beat you to it?”
“I don’t know. I was in a terrible place at the time. I could barely get out of bed, let alone pull myself together enough to file for divorce. Eventually, I suppose I would have.”
“What do you do for a living?” he asked in a sudden topi
c change.
“I’m a teacher.”
He scoffed. “Really?”
I lifted up on my elbow, offended. Looking down at him, I said, “Yes, really.”
“What do you teach?”
“Right now, I’m helping with high school special education.”
“No shit?”
I relaxed back down and shifted the conversation back on him. “What do you do?”
“I’m in commercial real estate.”
“Hmm. So, are you missing work this week?”
“I mostly make my own schedule, but I already had this week blocked off because of the wedding.”
“Do you like what you do?”
“It’s okay. It made the most financial sense while Addison was still in school and through her residency, but now, I might look into something else. I don’t know. I guess I should make one life-altering decision at a time.”
“Addison is a doctor?”
“Pediatric oncologist.”
“Damn,” I said. I didn’t mean to say it out loud, but it slipped out. Quietly, I added, “You know that makes it a little harder to hate her, right?”
“Oh, I’m aware.” He sighs. “That’s just it. She’s not a bad person. She’s one of the best people I know. She’s easy to love because she gives so freely. Every opportunity I got, I would bend over backward to lighten her load. I didn’t realize I was doing it. We were comfortable in our relationship, like roommates that had sex. We never fought. And I took that to mean things were going well. But we were missing the emotion a relationship like ours should have had.”
“Would you have married her if she didn’t confess to cheating?”
“Absolutely, because I didn’t see any of this. Not until you.” His fingers ran the length of my arm, chased by goosebumps. As he ran his fingers back up, he asked, “Are you cold?”
“No, I’m okay.” The truth was, I was kind of cold, and it had to be creeping close to one in the morning, but I wasn’t ready for the night to be over.
“What does the bird on your back symbolize?” he asked, tracing it with his finger.
“What makes you think it symbolizes something. Maybe I just thought it was cute.”