by Angela Terry
After our final drink, Alistair walks me back to my room. At my door we hug, and then as I lean back to say, “Good night,” he leans forward and kisses me softly on the mouth. While it’s surprising, it’s not unpleasant. When he pulls back, he says, “Sorry, but I had to do it. I had such a great time with you and it’s the power of now. You know?”
I nod and say, “I know,” and then I kiss him back. I open the door to my room and he comes in with me where we continue kissing all the way to my bed. Though I’ve been drinking, I’m not completely drunk and neither is he. We’re soon taking off each other’s clothes and I’m having sex for the first time since my breakup. The first man since Neil. The first new man in the last five years. Thankfully, it’s not awkward, and there’s a lot of drunken giggling involved. Maybe that’s not sexy, but we’re both trying out someone new and it’s turning out okay. We don’t know exactly what the other likes, as in the routine sex you have with someone for years, which makes the newness of it all intoxicating enough. Afterwards, we fall asleep in each other’s arms.
I wake up in the morning in the same position and, before I have any time to think, my stirring wakes him up. “Hey,” he says sleepily and gives me a little squeeze. “Am I still dreaming?”
“Nope. And no need for the line, you already got the girl.”
He gives a soft chuckle and kisses the top of my head. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it’s nice to not feel uncomfortable and to know that he didn’t try to sneak out in the middle of the night. I may have had a successful one-night stand. I can’t wait to see Jordan’s face when I tell her.
“What time is your flight again?” he asks.
“A little after two.”
“And why are you leaving again?”
“Because I have a flight.” I start to disentangle myself from him.
Even though I don’t want to move, I do have a plane to catch and packing to do. “Should I order us some coffee?” I ask, not sure how this morning-after-the-one-night-stand stuff goes down. It’s been a while.
“Coffee would be great. But, what would be really great is if you considered extending your trip.” He reaches for my hand. “I’m on a three-month hiatus right now and have more traveling and bad photography to take. Next week, I’m headed to Ecuador.” He sits up. “Hey, you already said you’re doing consulting and can work from anywhere. Why don’t you come with me?”
I blink a couple times, trying to break up the fog in my head. He’s right in that I have the time and freedom right now … but then what? After three months of traveling together, there would be decisions to be made. He lives in L.A. and I’m in Chicago. I did have a great week and Alistair is a great guy (and after last night, I feel like I have my groove back). But I’m also ready to get back to my life, my friends, my new job, and my days at The Cauldron. It’s taken me a while to get to this place, and I’m not ready to change that life around for a guy right now.
My hesitation tells him everything, and he kisses my hand. “Okay, I get it.” His face looks crestfallen, and I fear I’ve just hurt his feelings.
“You’re great, and your offer is great, but it’s just time for me to go home and get back to my new life.”
“You don’t need to explain. But I think I’ll get that coffee in my room.”
I’m sad to see him leave. But I think we both know the timing and distance aren’t right for us—at least not right now.
AT THE AIRPORT, as I sit at my gate, I’m wondering if I’m a weirdo for not trying to pursue things with Alistair further. He was good-looking, a lot of fun, and loves traveling. What’s so bad about a long-distance relationship? And what if my consulting business doesn’t take off? Would it be so terrible to move out of Chicago and start fresh? I wonder what L.A. is like. …
Stop it, Allison! What am I even thinking? I’m starting to do exactly what I promised myself I’d never do—change my life around for a guy. What’s wrong with me? I’m not that person anymore. And, if anything, not being that person anymore is probably what attracted Alistair to me. I only went along with his plans if they already fit into mine; or directly asked him if he wanted to join me, rather than capitulating to whatever he suggested. This is a first for me, and there’s no going backwards now.
Meeting Alistair got me over the hump to begin thinking that I might be ready to date again. That alone is a major improvement from where I was a few months ago, which was almost trying to convince Jordan that we should be life partners.
If I’m going to date again, I need to get my place ready. On my first visit back to Barnes & Noble post-Costa Rica, Leticia recommended to me a popular little book on how to feng shui your home in order to let love into your life. I move around furniture. I burn sage. I buy rose quartz and place one on each side of my nightstand. I dust out the closet where Neil’s clothes used to hang. While I have thought of moving, I loved this place first. It was my home, and I’m not going to let the ghost of Neil chase me out of it. I can’t believe the spa trip with Jordan was almost two months ago when I was living in a disarrayed state with dirty laundry everywhere. Now I’ve splurged on fresh flowers and a new jasmine-scented candle (a scent Neil would hate).
When Jordan comes over later that week, she looks around. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”
“Thank you. I did a little feng shui. It has better energy in here now, don’t you think?”
“I do.” Jordan peers at me. “Who are you? And what have you done with my friend Allison?”
I laugh and carefully hang up her jacket that she’s thrown over the chair and place her purse she dropped on the floor onto a hook in my hallway. “Never put your purse on the floor,” I admonish her.
“Germs?”
“No. A purse on the floor is money out the door.”
“Again, I ask who are you and where is Allison?”
I laugh. “Come on, I’ll show you the rest of the place.”
We walk back to the bedroom and I point to where I moved the mirror next to the closet. “Apparently, it’s bad luck to have a mirror facing the bed.”
She nods. “Yes, it’s much better to have it on the ceiling over the bed.”
“Hey, are you going to mock me?”
“No. I’m just teasing.” She plops down on the bed. “Actually, I really like it in here. It was nice before, but dare I say it has better energy now.” She runs her hand over a pillowcase. “Oooh. I love these sheets.”
“Thanks. They’re new. Egyptian cotton.”
“Nice. So the feng shui principle of in with the new and out with the old?”
“That. And I just couldn’t stand sleeping in sheets that Neil had touched. I also bought all new dishes and glasses.” I cringe. My spending ban on new items was lifted the second I received my first payment from Eric. “Maybe I shouldn’t have spent the money, but there was too much ick.”
“And it was still probably less expensive than moving.”
“Exactly. Though I’d love to get rid of this bed, but it was mine before Neil moved in.”
“Well, I just think you need to put some new energy into it.” She leans back on the bed propping herself up on her elbows. “Sexual energy. Possibly starting with that hot coffee guy.”
“Eric? The only person who is paying me right now? I don’t think that would be very feng shui. I must protect my wealth corner.”
She laughs. “Where’s the wine corner?”
“Follow me.”
We head to the living room where Jordan takes a seat on the sofa and I get us our wine and glasses. When I return from the kitchen, she’s petting the cashmere throw on the sofa. “Is this new too?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No. I took it out of the closet. Neil hated extra pillows and blankets on the sofa and bed.”
“Ugh, Neil.” She rolls her eyes. “It definitely has a cozier, more feminine vibe in here, and I like it. If you’re ever bored, feel free to come over and do my place.”
“I would love th
at.” Jordan’s place is fairly minimalist, perhaps because she spends most of her waking hours at work. “Better yet, maybe we go shopping this weekend for some accessories for your place?” I offer.
“Deal. Though I feel like you’re just vicariously shopping through me.” She waves her arm dramatically. “Okay. Enough with the decorating. Tell me about Costa Rica.”
“It was hot. And they have strange bugs.”
“I assumed. And that’s not what I want to know.”
I describe the morning yoga, meditation, and the resort, as well as some of the tourist attractions I visited.
Afterwards, she asks, “So was I right about the Eat, Pray, Love aspect of all this? Any hot guys?”
I fill her in on Alistair, and her eyes gleam as she keeps asking questions making sure I’m not cheating her out of any details. Before she wanted all the Oprah-esque channel, and now I’m giving her the Showtime for adults version, which I think she likes better.
Finally Jordan laughs. “First Alejandro and now this Costa Rica guy. Apparently, resorts are the feng shui spot for your sex life.”
“Clearly. And now after Costa Rica and Alistair, I think I might be ready to move on to dating, maybe, or at least be open to it. Though I’m not excited about the possibility of getting hurt again, I’m curious to apply everything I’ve learned.”
“Any potential targets?” she asks, grinning.
I hit her with a throw pillow in response.
Also, now that my life has some semblance of normality again, I’m finally ready to confront my past—Neil—in order to move on with my future (and I’d rather do this on my own terms than bump into him unexpectedly). It also helps that I’m tanned and healthy and have never looked better.
I’VE ARRANGED TO meet Neil after work at The Cauldron. He suggested meeting for a drink, but I wanted Eric’s soothing presence nearby. When I walked in and ordered, Eric gave me a whistle. Though it’s petty, I’m dressed in heels and a killer dress, as if I have a hot date afterwards. “Wow!” he said. “I almost feel sorry for the guy. One look at you and he’s going to realize what an idiot he is.” That’s the plan.
When I see Neil walk through the door, my hands turn clammy and I feel my heart begin to race, from anger or anxiety I’m not sure. I was hoping to see him rumpled and tired looking and full of regret. But he doesn’t. Instead, he looks great in a crisp gray-checked button-down shirt and pressed navy slacks. The rat bastard. He spots me, waves, and walks over. I automatically stand up, though I’m not sure why.
“Hey, Allison,” he says, leaning in for a hug.
I instinctively lean backwards and clumsily put my hand out for him to shake.
“Okay. This is awkward,” he says, shaking my hand and stating the obvious. He laughs nervously. “So, uh, I see you have some tea. Um, I’m going to order some decaf coffee. Can I get you anything else while I’m there?” He jerks his thumb toward the counter. He’s kinda rambling.
I shake my head. “No, thanks. I’ll be here.”
When Neil walks away it gives me a chance to steady my nerves. Eric is at the register and I hear his exchange with Neil. “Should I wait over there?” Neil asks, presumably indicating by the barista.
“No, I’ll bring it to your table.” My nervous energy dissipates at the sound of Eric’s voice, and I’m finally able to take a sip of my tea without my hand trembling.
Neil returns and sits across from me. “This is a nice place,” he says.
“Yes. I’ve become a regular.” I take another sip of my tea, not offering the information that I also work for Eric.
“So, how are you?” he says and, before I can answer, he continues, “You look great. Though I don’t know if I’m allowed to say that.”
“Thanks, though I don’t know if you’re allowed to say that either. But it’s true. In fact, I look stunning.” I’m kinda joking, but I’m also kinda pissed. If I look so great, Neil, then why did you dump me? I fiddle with my earring as we wait for Eric to bring Neil’s coffee.
Neil gives a small laugh, probably not sure how to respond either. “Well, you always look great. But you seem really tan. Have you been anywhere?”
I purposely littered my Facebook page with photos from my trip, but his tone seems innocent. “I just got back from Costa Rica.”
“Wow!” His eyes grow wide. “Good for you. You’ve always wanted to go. That’s great.” He’s rambling again. “How was it? What did you do?”
“It was amazing. I meditated and did yoga every morning; went hiking, snorkeling, and zip-lining in the afternoons; and ate lots of healthy delicious vegan food.” I take a sip of my tea. “You would’ve hated it.”
He laughs genuinely this time. “You’re right. I would’ve. You lost me with the meditation and yoga.” He shakes his head. “But I’m happy to hear you took that trip.”
Eric arrives with Neil’s coffee. “Your decaf.”
“Thanks,” Neil says smiling up at him.
I want him to look like a rat bastard in front of Eric, but instead he looks pleasant. I hate him.
Eric nods politely and puts his hand on my shoulder. “And how are you doing, Allison? Would you like some more tea?”
“I’m good, Eric. Thank you.”
“Okay. Let me know if you need anything.” We look at each other for a couple seconds, and I can tell he’s trying to read the expression behind my eyes.
“Will do. Thanks,” I say, hopefully conveying that I’m okay, for now.
He squeezes my shoulder and nods, as if to convey that he’s there if I need moral support as well as caffeine.
After Eric walks back to the counter, Neil looks around The Cauldron and says, “I wish this place opened when I was still living here.”
Ouch. “Yes. So, how’s Stacey?”
He shifts uncomfortably. “She’s fine. Doing well.” He plays with his mug. “What about you? Dating anyone?”
Is he kidding???! This is terrible. I lean back in my chair and cross my arms. “Does it really matter?” I give him a look, and I can’t keep the bitterness out of my voice.
“I’m sorry,” he says, finally looking pathetic.
“So you wanted to meet up. Here we are. What would you like to talk about?”
He keeps his eyes down on his coffee. “I just wanted to see how you’re doing. I’m a horrible person and now that I’m going to be a father … I don’t know … I guess I just wanted to make sure you’re okay and that we’re okay.”
“Closure?”
“Yeah, that,” he says quietly, looking up. “I heard about your job too. I’m sorry about that.”
“Why? You didn’t fire me. Actually, technically you did fire me as your fiancée, but not from Worldwide.” I want to kill him. “Anyway, I’m working again now. I’ve started a consulting business and am thinking of doing some volunteer work. And I’m much happier.”
“Good. You deserve to be.”
And because I can’t take his politeness anymore I get to the point. “So I need to know why, Neil. Why Stacey? What happened with us? When did you fall out of love with me?” He looks squirmy under my direct questioning, but I’m not going to let him leave without knowing the why. “If this is it? If this is our closure, you need to tell me everything.”
His big brown eyes I used to love look at me earnestly. “I’m sorry, Allison. It wasn’t that I fell out of love. Honestly, I wasn’t ever sure that it was love.”
The background noise in the café disappears as everything goes silent in my head. I hold on to the table, trying to remain seated as the world tips sideways. When Neil first broke up with me, he pulled the rug out from under our relationship; but with this revelation, he’s now destroyed the entire foundation. I struggle to breathe normally. Okay, maybe I don’t want to know everything.
But then I think, No. Be strong, Allison. I’ve come here for closure, and I need to stay to get the answers I want, no matter how shocking or painful.
Since I haven’t responded yet, N
eil continues, “When we met, I was blown away that this gorgeous, smart girl was into me. And dating you was so easy. Even moving in together was easy. You were always so flexible. You never got mad. Everyone loved you. And there was absolutely nothing wrong with our relationship.” He pauses. “But something just never felt quite right. In a weird way, it was like I never knew who you were.”
“So, you’re blaming me?” I ask. What nerve!
“No! Not at all.” He puts up his hands and seems to backtrack. “But I guess … I don’t know. I didn’t know what you were passionate about. What made you tick? When we met, you loved to run and ran marathons and told me you’d done triathlons, which was pretty intimidating to me since I’m more of a golf-on-the-weekends guy. But then here was this thing you loved to do, and then you stopped doing it so we could spend more time together. And while that was nice, I never asked you to. And so I always felt guilty. Especially since I didn’t give up my Sunday golf game with my friends. Also, you used to always experiment in the kitchen and cook these healthy dinners or try to make me smoothies in the morning. But, let’s be honest, I’m a simple guy, meat and potatoes or just some pizza is fine with me. So then you stopped cooking and accommodated yourself to me so we could eat together, and again that made me feel guilty.”
“So because I know the meaning of compromise, I wasn’t the one? A nice-girls-finish-last sorta thing?”
“Not at all. That’s what made me propose. Here you were doing everything for me, so why wouldn’t I marry you? But even our honeymoon, I knew you wanted to have an exotic adventure, while I just wanted to chill out on a beach with a drink in my hand. And though you tried convincing me, you also capitulated pretty quickly. I kinda wanted a fight on it, to see where you stood. I wanted you to fight for something.”
“But by compromising, wasn’t I fighting for us?”
“I don’t know. It made me wonder.” He shrugs helplessly. “Would that have been a great future? Did we really have anything in common? Would you always compromise and would I always feel guilty that you did so?”