by S. E. Law
I gulped, and then looked down at the ring on my hand. The diamond glinted at that moment, and I made a decision. It had to be a mistake. Maybe a friend had borrowed his computer and put those photos there as a prank. Or maybe, they really were nude models from the new art class he was taking.
Get real, Cora, the voice in my head said. There was a photo with two men in it, and they were kissing. Do art classes draw that?
I winced a bit, but then nodded my head. Who knows? Maybe Marky’s art class was particularly avant garde, and they were pushing the boundaries of traditional figure painting.
But now, having heard the truth directly from him, I just feel like a fool.
Embarrassed at my own naïveté, I walk back over to Marky, who is still standing there with his head in his hands.
“What do we do, Marky?” I ask in a pragmatic voice. “Clearly, our engagement is over.”
He pulls his hands from his face and it’s obvious from his damp cheeks that he’s been crying again.
“Cora, I ruined everything, and I am so sorry. I will never be able to make this up to you, I know that.” With that, Marky’s sobs become even louder and more heartfelt. I pat Marky awkwardly on the back, suddenly feeling very tired.
Through his tears, he reaches for my hands.
“Look, I promise I never meant to hurt you. And in fact, up until recently, I thought maybe I could go through with this because you are wonderful and kind. But then I couldn’t lie to myself. Not just about being gay, but about the fact that I’m in love with someone else.”
I pull my hands away from Marky. I should be in shock, but astonishingly, I’m relatively calm.
“Oh really?”
“Yes. With Brett Cunha. Honestly, I think I’ve loved him since high school when we were on the football team together. After he came out last year, we got to talking and being really good friends again. And I just, well, I found so much comfort in being able to talk to him about everything and…” Marky looks down at his feet, looking ashamed.
Well, that explains all the texting at dinner. Brett? Oh god, I called it.
Deciding to be the bigger person, I take Marky’s hand and squeeze it encouragingly.
“No, you don’t need to be ashamed about any of this. I’m just sorry things have to end this way, that’s all.” At that, Marky’s tears flow freely again and I let him cry for another moment, but I don’t know how much more I can take of this emotional rollercoaster.
Finally, he stops and we just stand in front of Frankie’s, each of us unsure what to do next.
“I guess this means goodbye,” I laugh wearily.
“Yeah, I guess so.” Marky shoots me a wan smile, the intensity of the evening taking a toll on both of us.
“Look, let’s just keep it to ourselves, or at least just our parents for now. I really don’t want to deal with everyone. Just give me a few days.”
“Okay, yes, of course. Just let me know how you want to handle it. I’ll do whatever.” Marky hugs me earnestly, and the embrace startles me. But I let myself melt into his strong arms for a blissful moment, cherishing the moment. We were engaged, after all.
But then I pull away.
“Marky, I wish you nothing but happiness. I mean it. But for now, we can’t be friends, we can’t… I can’t see you, okay?”
He nods thoughtfully. “I understand, whatever space you need.” We face each other for another semi-awkward moment. “Okay then.” Marky pulls out his phone to message for an Uber.
But before he can order the car, a sedan pulls up and the passenger side window lowers. In the dark recesses of the car, I see Brett Cunha’s handsome face in the driver’s seat.
“Hey. I figured you still be here.” Brett’s deep voice is kind. “Need a ride, Marky?”
Immediately upon seeing him, my ex-fiance’s entire face lights up with happiness. It feels like a punch in the gut, but at the same time I have never seen him so happy.
Marky starts to get into the car but then turns toward me at the last moment.
“You’ll be okay, Cora?”
Taking in Marky’s now happy face and Brett’s eager one behind the wheel, I smile wanly at the two handsome men.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. You two go ahead.”
With that, the two men drive away and I’m left alone in the cold quiet night.
I take a moment to breathe in the fresh air, processing everything that has happened over the last several hours.
Well, my gaydar was spot on, I think ruefully. Oh my god what am I going to do?
I spot my car still parked in the lot but shake my head. You may feel stone cold sober, Cora, but you’re not.
With that thought, I message for an Uber to take me home.
As I wait outside Frankie’s for the ride, the absurdity of the entire night hits me all at once and I laugh manically for a solid minute. But just as quickly, a cold breeze snaps me out of my hysteria and I stand quietly, feeling more alone than I ever have in my entire life.
5
Cora
Around 1 a.m., I crawl out of bed and head downstairs to the kitchen. It’s the third night in a row that I haven’t been able to sleep, and I’ve learned that the only way to handle my insomnia is to just get up.
I tiptoe downstairs as quietly as possible so I don’t wake my parents. I avoid the second to last step on the stairs – its creaking sound could wake the dead – and cross into the kitchen.
As I put the bright red teakettle on the stove, I let my mind wander.
Three days.
It’s been three days and nights since I learned that my fiancé, the man I was supposed to marry, was not only not in love with me, but that he is in fact gay and in love with someone else. It’s crazy.
I shake my head as I stand at the counter waiting for the water to boil. I can’t be mad at Marky, and I know in my heart I’m not. But I am sad for myself, and I decide that’s a perfectly acceptable reaction to this insane situation.
Life, sucky. Mood, crappy. Cora? Miserable.
Sighing, I rummage through my mom’s tea chest looking for something soothing to calm me. Hibiscus, green tea, chamomile. Chamomile, that’ll do. I pull out a pack and grab the honey from the shelf. Just as the kettle starts to wail, I’m startled by a noise behind me.
“Mom!” I whisper loudly. “You scared me!”
Marcia smiles sleepily.
“Sorry sweetie, I just heard you come downstairs and thought I should check on you.”
“I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“Please. Your dad’s snoring woke me up.”
“Want some tea?”
My mom smiles at me and pulls two mugs from the cupboard. I place a teabag in each cup while my mom pours the steaming water over them. Immediately her glasses fog up and we each laugh as she pretends her fingers are mini windshield wipers.
“There, that’s a good sound, kiddo.” My mom pulls me into a warm hug. “I feel like you haven’t smiled in days.”
I step away from her embrace, not sure that I feel like talking. “I need to take care of the tea…”
“Cora.”
Uh-oh, she has her “mom” voice on.
“We both know the tea has to steep,” Marcia says gently. “Now tell me, what’s going on? You’ve been moping for days and while I know you’re an adult and you need privacy, it’s my job as your mom to notice when something seems strange.” She takes my hand and leads to me to the table. “So spill.”
I sigh deeply. Part of me wants to tell my mom everything, to have her empathy and hear her advice. But another part of me just wants to sweep the whole situation under the rug, move on, and pretend nothing is wrong.
But then I look at my mom affectionately, her pretty brown hair streaked with gray, her face etched with deep laugh lines, her wedding band worn and scratched and loved. She met my dad when she was twenty-two, right after college. They’d fallen madly in love and never looked back.
I want that.
“The engagement is off,” I tell her bluntly and sit down, hard, on the kitchen chair. My mom sits down too, more slowly and with a confused look on her face.
“But why?” Her disbelief is echoed in her voice. “I thought you two were in love. Is there something I don’t know?”
I shrug.
“It’s insanely complicated.”
“Tell me, honey. What happened?” My mom cups my face with her soft hand and suddenly I start crying. Not sobbing like Marky had been a few nights before, but an almost silent weeping from deep in my core. Immediately, my mom springs up from her chair and wraps me in her arms again.
For a few moments, we stand like this, my mom cooing and comforting me, while I just let myself be sad.
Finally, I pull away from her.
“Our tea.” I go to the counter and retrieve our lukewarm drinks and sit back at the table.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I nod as I take a sip of the soothing chamomile. “It’s all a little shocking,” I warn her.
“I can take it.” My mom sits up a little straighter, as if bracing herself.
I laugh feebly. “Shocking about Marky, Mom, not me.” I inhale deeply and decide to go for it. “Marky is gay.”
“What?” Her jaw drops at the revelation.
I nod, hardly believing it myself. “Yeah, and not only is he gay, he’s in love with someone else. A man. Brett Cunha. The guy I went to high school with? He was at the engagement dinner, ironically, and I think he’s an assistant football coach at Blue Mountain High now. Anyway, yep, they’re in love. And Marky told me after the engagement dinner.”
“But honey that was three nights ago! You’ve kept this to yourself all this time?” My mom takes my hand in hers, looking genuinely worried.
“Mom, it’s okay. I just needed the time to think, to process. But I still can’t wrap my mind around it all. It’s crazy. Ugh!” I rest my head in my hands.
“Cora, I’m so sorry.” She pats my shoulder lovingly.
I smile wryly. “It’s okay, Mom. Well, mostly okay. I’m happy for Marky. I’m happy he can finally be himself. Imagine having that bottled up inside! And I’m happy we didn’t let things go too far. You know, like actually get married.” I shake my head. “So I’m okay. I’m not really that upset at all anymore.”
“But sweetie, you just found out your fiancé is gay and that he loves someone else… that can’t be an easy thing to go through.” My mother is wearing her ‘concerned parent’ look so I try to brush off her apprehension.
“No Mom, really, I’m okay. That’s life, full of all kinds of crazy twists and turns.” I smile, hoping that my face doesn’t convey my actual emotional distress over everything.
We each sit silently, sipping our tea and lost in our own thoughts.
The truth of the matter is that I’m not that upset about Marky. Sure, I’m disappointed our relationship had to end on such a wild turn of events, but I think I suspected that something was off with us almost throughout our entire relationship. I just chose to ignore it because I was so happy to be engaged to someone as handsome and kind as Marky Harrison.
I look at my mom again, envious of her happy marriage.
“What was it like, when you met Dad?” I ask her, feeling sad at the thought that I could be alone forever.
“It was absolutely perfect in every way.” My mom grins and fiddles with the string on the tea bag. “Especially because we hated each other the first time we met.”
“You did?” I’m surprised to hear this – my parents’ relationship is one of the most affectionate ones I’ve ever seen.
“Oh yeah. The very first time we were introduced, he insulted me, saying something about how people who play the violin are stuck up or something.” She laughs easily, thinking back on the memory. “I was so mad at him. But I ended up seeing him again the next day, because my friend made us all go out together. And it turns out he’d just been nervous, and he didn’t really feel that way. And the rest you know.”
“I didn’t know that about you guys.”
“Yeah, we tend to stick to the next story, about our first date.” She leans forward in her chair so she can stroke my arm. “What about you, kiddo? Did you feel some sort of spark with Marky?”
I think for a moment.
“Well, no.” It surprises me to realize that I never really had that intense certainty about Marky.
“Hmm. Well, maybe that’s not a bad thing, Cora. Because if this relationship was supposed to have worked out, I know you would be more upset about the break-up.” My mom stands up. “Some more tea?”
“Sure.” I sit there and ponder what my mom just said.
She’s right. I was full of doubts the entire relationship – especially why he never wanted to be intimate with me.
“You know Cora,” my mom says from the stove, her back to me. “I think you should take some time away from here, from everything and everyone. To really clear your head and get a fresh start. And to avoid the busybodies who are bound to ask about you two.”
“Mom, I can’t, you know that. Hearts and Heroes has several shipments coming in this week and plus I’m trying to get that author to commit to a book-signing next month.”
Running a business is hard. She just doesn’t get it.
My mom comes back to the table with the mugs full of hot water and sits next to me, considering her next words. I steady myself, unsure if I can handle any more of this conversation tonight.
“Sweetie. I can only imagine the stress you feel at work, and everyday I’m grateful that your dad and I can provide at least some financial relief for you. But this – ” she gestures around the room, searching for the right words – “event is life-changing. It’s a huge development; it’s going to affect you for, well, forever. It’s not just heartbreak, sweetheart, it’s that your trust was broken.”
I nod, agreeing with her assessment of my situation. God she’s good.
“And,” my mom continues after blowing on her hot tea, “you’re numb to the pain. But it will hit you, at some point. And when it does, I want you to be in a safe place, to feel like you can go through all of that without everyone trying to butt in with their opinions or pity.”
“I guess you might be right,” I offer reluctantly.
“Good, it’s settled then. You should go up to the cabin for a week, maybe two. The fresh air will be good, and it should have everything set up aside from groceries. You can shop in the morning, and take whatever you want with you from here, too.”
“That’s a good idea, Mom, but what about my job?” I shake my head, unsure how to just up and vanish for two weeks.
Marcia’s ready with an answer.
“Hadley can run things. You hired her for a reason, and it’s not just because she’s your best friend. She’s a great assistant manager. She can handle the store while you’re away.”
“And what about the engagement? When am I supposed to tell everyone? What do I tell everyone?” I lay my head in my hands again, overwhelmed by the thought of having to share my mortifying news.
“I’ll handle it. I’ll keep it short and private. It’s no one’s business why you two ended things,” my mom says decidedly.
“I don’t know, Mom…”
“Cora, please just trust me on this. Take a couple of weeks to process everything. Okay?”
I nod, adjusting to the idea and hoping that my mom’s advice will help me through this next step.
“Okay Mom, I’ll go.”
“Good.” She stands up. “Alright kiddo, let’s get to bed.”
I stand up and hug Marcia again, already feeling relieved at the idea of escaping my real life, if only for a little bit.
Upstairs in my bedroom, I still can’t sleep, so I decide to pack. I grab my duffel bag from its spot in the closet and try to distract myself with the task at hand.
It’s only the second week of March, and the cabin is located in the mountains, so it’ll be colder up there, I think. I
grab a stack of sweaters, a few lighter flannel shirts, several leggings and sweatpants, thick socks, and some beanies. Then, I stuff everything into the duffel. Next, I grab my underwear and bras and place them into a side pocket. Finally, I grab several romance novels off the bookshelf and place them on top of the mess of clothes.
My life might not be a romance novel, but at least I can pretend for a little.
Saddened by the thought, I sit down heavily on my bed and ask myself if getting out of town for a while really is the best idea.
You’ve got to do something, I scold myself. It might not help, but going to the cabin is something different.
I toss my duffel bag onto the floor and climb into my bed, opting to pack everything else in the morning.
For now, I just want to sleep and start fresh, so I dream of mountain air in my lungs and maybe a few bottles of wine to keep me company.
The next morning, my mom’s plan doesn’t seem so far-fetched.
I’m standing outside our family cabin, taking in the fresh mountain breeze and stretching from the long car ride.
Well, here we are.
It’s a smaller wooden home, made from old logs and covered by a shiny tin roof. It boasts a large front porch that is usually covered with plants and rocking chairs and pitchers of lemonade. The first floor is dedicated family space while the upstairs holds the bedrooms, bathrooms, and a reading nook.
We’ve had the cabin since I was a kid – it’s our family retreat during summer months. It’s surrounded by deep woods and a nearby lake, where all the neighboring kids would play together.
But today, in the cool, early spring breeze, the whole house looks a little bit empty and a little bit forlorn.
I stride up to the porch and fish the comically large key that unlocks the cabin from my purse. Pushing open the heavy wooden door, I step into the cool front hallway and into the mudroom where, growing up, I’d have to strip out of wet swimsuits or muddy overalls or slimy sneakers.