by Britney King
The next morning, Addie finished packing her things, called a cab, and didn’t look back. She had spent her whole life feeling unwanted, and now that she was an adult, she knew she had a choice in the matter.
She and Patrick went two weeks without speaking before finally running into each other in the library. It was awkward seeing one another. With neither of them knowing quite what to say, Addie spoke first, her voice quivering as she apologized for running out on him the way she did. Patrick hugged Addie as her silent tears fell, apologizing for the way his family treated her. He told her that he was sorry with the way that they had left things and asked Addie to meet him at his apartment later that evening to talk.
The truth was Addie had been a complete mess since walking out on Patrick. She couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t do anything but think of Patrick. She lost ten pounds that she didn’t have to lose. Jessica tried to cheer her up by ordering takeout and renting sappy movies. She offered to take her shopping, but Addie was content just sitting around in her pajamas, staring into space. In a matter of a week, she had become gaunt, pale, with dark circles under her eyes. She looked terrible, and Jessica told her as much.
Jessica walked over, flipped the TV off, and pulled the covers off of Addie.
“Get up. The shower’s running. And you know how I hate to waste water.”
Addie looked confused. “What the hell? You don’t care about wasting water.”
Jessica tugged at Addie’s arm. “Well, I do now. GET UP! You’ll feel better once you don’t smell so bad. Seriously. You can’t just lie here forever. You’ve missed classes, Addie. This isn’t like you.”
Addie forced herself up, giving Jessica a dirty look in the process. “Ok. Fine.”
Once showered and dressed, Addie realized Jessica was right, she did feel better. So later that evening when she’d finally dragged herself to the library, only to run into Patrick, she couldn’t help but feel that it was fate.
Addie met Patrick at his apartment that evening as he suggested. He cooked her dinner, during which they both were mostly quiet besides an occasional exchange of pleasantries. Something was different. Something had changed and Addie felt it. After dinner they sat on the sofa, Addie sipping her wine, Patrick water. Finally, when Addie had had enough of the silence, when she couldn’t take it another minute, she spoke up, breaking the quiet. “What is it, Patrick? Just spit it out. I’m a big girl. I can take it.”
“Spit what out?”
“Whatever it is you need to say.”
Patrick turned toward her, taking her hand in his. “So . . . Ok . . . I . . . Um . . . I can’t do this anymore. Being apart gave me time to think, and I just don’t want anything serious right now. We’re so young, Addie.”
As though she had been kicked out of thin air, Addie felt the blow to her stomach. She wanted to cry. But tears wouldn’t come. She wouldn’t let them. Instead, she put on her best poker face, careful not to give anything away. Knowing that there was nothing left to say, she sat her wine on the coffee table and stood, brushing her jeans with her hands. “Ok.” She turned towards the door as Patrick grabbed her wrist.
“What are you doing? That’s it? All you have to say is ok?” He pulled her closer.
Addie couldn’t avoid looking at him the way he was holding her, and the last thing she wanted was for him to see her cry. She needed to make a quick getaway. It was clear that Patrick had made up his mind, and Addie didn’t want to make it any harder for him. She knew Patrick didn’t want to hurt her, and she wouldn’t hurt him by letting him see just how much it hurt.
“Come on. Don’t run. Let me explain.”
Addie felt like a fist was lodged in her throat. “What is there to explain?” she choked out.
Patrick kissed her forehead, brushed her hair away from her face, and hugged her so tightly Addie was afraid she might suffocate. Her mind raced, yet she was numb all at the same time. Feeling Patrick’s arms around her and the love between them, it suddenly became clear to her exactly what she had to do.
“You’re right and we both know it.” She said flatly.
Patrick smiled weakly before he picked her up. Addie wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her to his bedroom. He placed her softly on the bed, where he made love to her gently, as if she might break, as if they both might break. He kissed her face and searched her eyes, whispering, “I love you and I’m so sorry,” over and over. It tore Addie apart, literally ripped her heart in two. But she didn’t respond; instead, she showed him everything she couldn’t say in the way she made love to him. When they were both sweaty and emotionally and physically depleted, Patrick curled up next to her, his head on her stomach. They lay there, staring at the ceiling for hours, without saying a word. Once she was sure Patrick had finally fallen asleep and she was certain that he was in a deep sleep, Addie got up and silently dressed. After she gathered her things, she stood for a moment watching him sleep. Finally, she gently kissed his cheek, and then quietly tiptoed out of his apartment and straight out of his life.
The next few months were a blur as Addie dated a flurry of men. On the inside, she was devastated. Not only had she lost her boyfriend and lover but her best friend. Her future. On the outside, however, Addie was the life of the party. “Finally living,” she told everyone.
Thankfully, Addie never ran into Patrick. She tried to avoid all of the places they had gone, places where she thought he might be. In the first few weeks after they split, Addie had received dozens of emails and several phone calls from him. She never answered, deleting the voicemails. Addie read the first email, mostly by mistake. She had been drunk, her defenses down. In the email, Patrick explained that he loved her but that his parents had threatened to cut off their financial support if he continued seeing her. He apologized, saying that he would do anything if she would just talk to him. He said he missed her and their friendship. Fuck him. She had enough friends. She deleted it without responding. Once, when she was out, Patrick stopped by, hoping to see her. Apparently, Jessica had given him a piece of her mind in such a way that Patrick finally stopped trying.
During that time, Addie threw herself into her schoolwork and spent all of her free time living it up. It was only after the party that the truth would show, and usually it was Jessica who had to clean up the mess.
After about the twelfth or so guy Addie casually “dated,” which really meant slept with, she met Carter. Carter was a beautiful, tough, rugby player. He was a known playboy, also the life of the party. They met at his fraternity’s kegger and had a one-night stand, of which Addie remembered very little. Afterwards, Carter called incessantly, hoping it would become a three- or four-night stand. But Addie wanted nothing to do with him. Her heart was broken, and she wasn’t looking to date, especially not someone like Carter. Hell, in the daylight, she didn’t even like him. But Carter was relentless and Addie was lonely, and soon he and Addie were spending a lot of time together, mostly in bed. Or wherever, really. Carter was Mr. Fun, Mr. Help Her Forget. He was gorgeous and crazy about her. But Addie knew she would never, could never, love him. Her only investment was time.
About three months in to “dating” Carter, they bumped into Patrick at a party. He waltzed right up to her and Carter, interrupted their conversation and introduced his beautiful date, Shelly. Some nerve.
The four of them made small talk until Addie, feeling sick to her stomach, excused herself to the ladies’ room. Unbeknownst to her, Patrick followed. He pushed open the stall door and found her leaning against the wall, panting, trying to catch her breath.
Addie rolled her eyes and attempted to close the door, pushing against it to no avail. Patrick was stronger than she was by a long shot. “What the fuck? You can’t be in here.”
Not budging, Patrick glared at her, his eyes dark. “Are you happy with him?”
“Ha! How about nice to see you? How have you been? No. This is where you want to start?”
“Addison, answer me. Are you happy?”
Addie crossed her arms, glaring at him before finally speaking. “What fucking business is it of yours?”
Patrick laughed.
Addie stared at the floor, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Patrick pushed his way further into the stall, locking the door behind him. For a moment they just stood there staring at one another, and before Addie could say anything, Patrick grabbed both sides of her face and fell into her, kissing her deeply. Soon, hands were everywhere. Patrick pushed her skirt up, lifting her slightly, forcing her back up against the wall as he slammed into her. He pushed into her hard and fast. Addie dug her nails into his back, which only made him push harder. They grabbed fistfuls of hair, unable to take their eyes off one another, their passion and their eyes saying everything they couldn’t. When he was finished, Patrick slowly pulled away.
Breathless, he bent down and kissed her bare shoulder. “Goddamn, Addison. I’ve missed you so much.”
Addie smoothed her skirt, trying to gain composure. She refused to let herself get hurt again. “Look, this . . . This was a mistake.” Even as the words escaped her lips, Addie knew full well she was lying, even to herself.
Patrick searched her eyes. “Are you drunk?”
“No. Why?”
Addie opened the stall door, sighing in relief that they were alone.
She stepped out as Patrick grabbed her by the arm. “Leave with me. Now. Out the back door.”
Addie frowned, rubbing her arm. “What about Shelly?”
“Who?” Patrick chuckled, flashing his signature grin.
Addie punched his forearm. “Your date, asshole.”
Patrick grabbed her hand, intertwining their fingers, ushering her toward the exit. “She’ll be fine.”
The next morning, Addie woke up alone in Patrick’s bed, angry with herself. After all she had been through only to wind up back here nearly brought her to tears.
She checked her phone. Six missed calls and two voicemails, all from Carter. Shit. He was going to be pissed.
“Good morning, sunshine.” Patrick said, opening the bedroom door and interrupting her thoughts. “Coffee?” he said, thrusting a tray in her direction.
Addie slid upwards to a sitting position as he placed the tray over her knees. “Thanks.”
As Addie lifted the mug to her lips, she noticed something in Patrick’s face change: a thought, a look, she couldn’t place. She took another sip of her coffee as he slid off the bed. She picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite before realizing what it was he was doing.
Seeing him there, kneeling on one knee, holding the little blue box, caused her to choke on the bacon. She tried another sip of coffee. Finally, clearing her throat, Addie chuckled and waved him off, but Patrick didn’t budge.
“Addison, will you marry me?”
Addie blinked, pinching herself to make sure she was awake.
Patrick pinched her too.
“Ouch.”
“You’re awake.” He said smiling. “And I asked you a question.”
Addie’s heart began racing. “Wait! You’re serious?”
“Look, I was dumb enough to lose you once and I’m sorry. So fucking sorry. But I’m smart enough to know that I don’t want it to ever happen again. Please, Addison? Say you’ll marry me.”
So many things ran through her mind in that moment: of course, the how, when, and where, and the what-ifs. But mostly, it was the realization of what she had known all along: that she loved him. He was the one. She couldn’t let him go, not again. If she did, it would break her for good. They would figure it out. They had to.
“Yes. I’ll marry you.” Addie replied as hot tears spilled out, stinging her cheeks.
Four
Unlike most brides to be, planning a wedding didn’t stress Addie one bit. She had hers planned by the time she was six. That year, her class took a field trip downtown to the Botanical Gardens, and as soon as Addie stepped foot in the rose garden, she proceeded to let everyone know that it was where she would get married one day. That very evening she went home and planned it all out, down to the very last detail. Of course, she would wear white and her bridesmaids a pale shade of blue. And as it turned out, things didn’t change so very much between the time she was six and twenty-five.
In 2003, Addie and Patrick were married on a beautiful spring afternoon in front of 200 of their closest friends and family. It was everything that Addie had always dreamed it would be. The roses were in full bloom. A string quartet played in the background. The reception followed underneath a big white tent, beneath the willow trees and a bright full moon. It was stunningly beautiful. The bride and groom and their guests danced into the wee hours of the morning. As Patrick waltzed Addie across the dance floor, she smiled and thought to herself: With a wedding as perfect as this, how could the life together that followed not be just so?
It was almost two years to the day they married that Addie gave birth to their first child: a son named Connor. She and Patrick had discussed Addie going off of the pill and trying for a baby, but it was safe to say that neither of them expected it to happen so very quickly. Addie was, of course, more ready than Patrick, who would have preferred a few more years to focus solely on his career. But when Addie wanted something, she was persistent, and Patrick enjoyed the practice.
It was also safe to say that they were both wholly unprepared for the drastic changes that becoming parents would bring to their lives. Addie had planned on continuing her career after the baby arrived, and for the first six months, she did just that.
Unfortunately, her plan didn’t last long. Connor was a colicky baby who cried constantly. Those days, there was very little sleep going on in their house. Addie found herself pacing the halls with Connor at all hours of the night while he screamed and screamed. There were endless doctor appointments followed by visits to various specialists, who all seemed to confirm what the last had said. Connor was perfectly healthy.
There were numerous calls to Jessica during that time, which Addie was certain kept her sane.
“They say he’s fine. The doctors . . . I just don’t get it, Jessica. They’re freaking doctors, and they can’t give me an answer. They just tell us he’s fine and that he’ll grow out of it. Maybe it’s me? Maybe I’m doing something wrong.”
Jessica sighed. “Honey, it’s not you. If the doctors say he’s fine, then believe them. It’s not you. You’re a great mother. Anyone can see that. Connor is fine. Some babies just cry more often than others. He is your son after all. Remember how much you cried in college? Every twenty eight days or so.”
Addie laughed. “I didn’t cry that often.”
“Well, you certainly cried more than I did, and that’s saying something.”
Addie felt lucky that she could call Jessica and Jessica would talk her down, but it was during the hellishly long nights that Addie felt the walls closing in on her. She began to understand how parents could physically harm their child. For two people who were so used to being in control of their lives, it was a helpless feeling. And where there had been so much joy in their house, suddenly everything had changed in nine short months. Now, it seemed there were only uncertainty, time, and the waiting game.
Since Patrick did not function very well without sleep, Addie assumed most of the nighttime caregiving, which was something she quickly found herself incredibly resentful of. Even then, Patrick still found it difficult to sleep well with all of the crying going on. His performance began lacking at work, his drive diminished, and for that he, too, grew resentful. The seemingly endless nights and days full of doctor’s appointments made for a lot of lost time at work for Addie. During the eight weeks that Addie took maternity leave, she could not wait to return to work. Instead of dreading each passing day as so many of her friends had, knowing that she’d have to leave her baby when her time was up, she silently counted the days until she got to return to work.
She had a nanny lined up to start two weeks before her return so that she
and baby Connor could get acclimated to one another. But after two short days of Connor’s endless crying, the nanny quit. Patrick came home from work to find Connor screaming in his crib and Addie lying on the bathroom floor sobbing. “What’s wrong, Addison? What are you doing in here?”
Addie didn’t answer for a while. She remained quiet until Patrick asked again. “The nanny quit.”
Patrick frowned. “Ok?”
“Ok? OK! That’s all you have to say? OK? Look Patrick, I’m fucking exhausted. I mean I’m tired enough as it is. I can’t even put him down for two seconds. Now, I have to go through the hiring process all over again, and all you have to say is ok!”
Patrick stood and walked to the door. “I’m going for a run. Clearly, we should talk about this when you’re not so emotional.”
Addie picked up the closest thing to her, a hairbrush, and hurled it at the door, just as it slammed shut.
Although she and Patrick barely spoke for the next few days, thankfully, Addie was able to hire a second nanny with a week to spare before her return to work. That nanny lasted all of that week until the Friday before her return to work when nanny number two simply did not show up. Admittedly, she saw it coming. Hell, she even empathized with the woman and wondered if she too could just quit.
In the end, Addie added a week to her maternity leave, though it shortly became very clear that this week would need to become two. Addie did finally hire an elderly nanny named Sue. Sue had raised more children than she could count. Unfortunately, by the time Addie found herself back in the office, many of her big projects had been handed off to her colleagues.
Addie was a mess. Her life had become unrecognizable. She felt like a shell of her former self. For one thing, she had lost a lot of weight. All of the baby weight had gone and then some. Her appearance had become pale and sickly, and her hair was falling out. She had trouble focusing; her mind was cloudy. She often wondered if she might be suffering from postpartum depression; although, it really didn’t matter one way or the other. Even if she were, she would never admit it, not to herself and especially not to anyone else.