by Kat T. Masen
Both Rocky and an onlooker try to hold back Lex all the while as I stand there gobsmacked at Julian’s hurtful words. Julian turns to face me, out of breath, eyes wild with rage and hurt as he says the words I’ve dreaded all along. “I’m done. I can’t do this, Adriana, it’s too hard.” He shakes his head, defeated. “I love you, but you’ll always choose your brother over me, and I refuse to go on always being someone’s second place. Even I know I don’t deserve that.”
My voice croaks, and I try to speak to no avail.
With a second attempt, I finally sync my mind and voice. “Julian, don’t do this. Please, I didn’t mean the things I said.”
His eyes have settled, and his brown pupils stare deep into mine, piercing my soul with pain, knowing that the damage is done, and I’m losing the one person who means more to me than anyone else.
The man I love.
Tell him you love him… now.
I want to tell him, but he beats me to the punch. “You doubted me, and I never thought you would do that. It’s over, okay?”
Crushed, he walks away, Tristan running after him.
Dazed and confused, arms wrap around me in comfort, and the moment I realize they belong to Charlie, I stiffen. “Don’t touch me,” I warn her.
“Adriana, but I—”
I turn to look at her, and with mixed emotions, I lash out as the force of humility hits me so hard I’m seeing nothing but darkness.
“It’s always about you, Charlie. He was moving on, but you come here dressed like a slut, and what do you do? Drive my boyfriend away from me.”
Lex moves toward me. “Apologize for calling her that.”
“I won’t apologize for anything,” I scream back at all of them.
I leave, running as fast as I can through the gardens and onto the driveway. My heart is beating erratically, and my breaths are far and few between. In the complete still of darkness, I’m finally alone but stumble on the stone driveway. I fall to the ground amongst the gravel, my hand scraping along the jagged edges.
There is pain.
But I am numb.
The only pain I feel is that Julian walked away.
He has given up on us.
Again, someone has given up on me.
There’s something to be said about a broken heart—it’s not only your heart that breaks, it’s all of you.
Mind, body, and soul.
Alone, I fall into the trap of darkness, silenced by the pain which feels oh so familiar. My heart
may have been broken and scarred, but now, the wounds are open, and I’m bleeding.
I see nothing.
I want nothing.
It’s cold and lonely, with no warmth or light to guide me.
It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve experienced it, time does not give me the wisdom or strength to handle the situation any better. I should be a pro at this. I’ve experienced more pain than I ever thought imaginable. Yet, here I am, desolate, weak, and I can barely breathe.
Somehow, I ended up at Eric’s, rugged up in a heavy woolen blanket wearing one of his white cotton shirts. Instead of allowing me to sleep, which seems like an impossible task, Tristan and Eric form the pity party by my side, trying to reassure me everything will work out, and that Julian was having a rough night.
Rough night or rough life?
I don’t see sense, and every decision I’ve made since the moment I walked into that support group haunts me. Should I have seen this coming? Am I that gullible? But even after I ask myself those questions, there’s one thing which stands out more than anything—he said he loved me.
My eyes eventually start to droop, suspecting Eric slipped something into the Chinese tea he forced me to drink, and sleep’s calling me.
Sleep—either my friend or my foe.
Tonight, it’s my friend.
***
I open my eyes to be greeted by a bright light shining throughout the perfectly furnished room. The sun is basking me with all its glory, reminding me it’s a new day and a new start to life. Tell me this is a nightmare? My hope is shattered as I see my costume beside me along with my heart, which lays helplessly on the floor smashed into a million pieces.
The apartment is silent, no voices are heard. My cell beside me reads seven, and sadly, no texts or calls wait on the screen, forcing my body to fall back into the cushions. My eyes are sore, closing them momentarily for relief, but the second my sight is blank, Julian’s face haunts me.
And the knife twists deeper inside me.
Eric and Tristan come through the front door, dressed in gym gear carrying a white paper bag. They both give me a sympathetic smile, but I have nothing to give in return. Tristan takes a seat at the edge of the sofa, pulling out a bagel, handing it to me.
I shake my head, refusing.
“Adriana, you can’t do this to yourself. You’re already a stick,” Eric begs me.
I stare blankly at him.
Tristan moves the bagel toward my mouth and pleads with his eyes to take a bite. All I see is Julian—his hair, his jaw, and the way his eyes wrinkle when he smiles. I take a bite, but only one.
“Now let me tell you about my Aunt Patty,” Eric says. “Married for twenty years and husband left her for his dental assistant. Busted him in the chair with the twenty-something-year-old using that sucky dental tool on his wang.”
“What?” I exclaim, momentarily pulled out of my funk.
“Eric, how is this helping right now?” Tristan complains.
“Was he hard? No, wait, dumb question, you’re talking about that thing they put in your mouth that sucks the saliva?”
Tristan shakes his head. “It’s not the dentist you made me go to last month, is it?”
“Of course not. His business is in Florida somewhere. And yes, Adriana, that compressor thing. So, as I was saying, she caught him red-handed. According to Aunt Patty, his dick was so tiny she was surprised it didn’t get sucked up and flushed down the drain.”
Tristan smirks at both of us. “Again, how is this helping right now?”
“She lost like a hundred pounds and looks fabulous. I’m just trying to point out that sometimes a bad situation can turn into something good.”
“I’m still trying to understand where the good in this story is?” Tristan scowls, taking a sip of his juice.
“Oh!” Eric laughs to himself. “I forgot to mention that as payback, she started screwing her husband’s best friend, and this new guy was hung like a horse. He’d go at it till the cows came home.”
My throat makes an odd gurgle, and I realize it’s a laugh trying to escape.
“Eric, what is it with your sexual comparison to barnyard animals?”
“Adriana, you haven’t even heard the start of it,” Tristan warns.
“Look, you laughed, a little giggle. This will work itself out, okay? Just take care of yourself and Andy,” Eric reminds me.
I nod with a small smile, grateful for Eric and Tristan’s friendship. Eric moves over to my side and hands me the rest of the bagel. I eat it this time and thank him silently for taking care of me.
I announce I’m going to head home after being asked for the hundredth time if I’m okay. The only thing I need right now more than anything is my son.
***
Sitting on the sofa, I press play on the DVD as Andy and I snuggle to watch the movie Toy Story 3. Mary Jean just left to head back home with the promise of visiting again shortly. With my baby curled into my side, I sniff his hair until he pushes me away. Andy never likes to talk during movies, watching intently with his eyes and laughing on cue. Andy loves Toy Story and will jump every time he hears his name and say, “Mama! That’s my name!”
I laugh as Ken graces the screen with his over-the-top fashion, something which confuses Andy, of course. It’s nice to give my mind a break, but it’s short-lived as the movie comes to an end. I start to bawl like a baby at the character, Andy, going to college. What the fuck is wrong with me? It’s just a damn m
ovie.
Andy has fallen asleep in my arms. I cradle and carry him up the stairs. Inside his room, I place him on his bed, tucking him in. Tiptoeing away, I make it to my room and just to torture myself, I check my cell. Nothing. Climbing into bed, my head falls against the pillow. Sleep seems so good right now, and just when I think it’s the answer to my problems, my body shudders unexpectedly, and the sobs build up in my chest.
Tonight, I cry into my pillow.
That’s day one over.
Day two, I’m a human-robot.
Going through the motions, switching to mom-mode during the day, busying myself with Andy and with some work at the boutique. I don’t stop to think about him all day. I’m strong. I need to give myself some credit here. Who needs a man, anyway? Okay, a little overboard and googling First Wives Clubs in LA seems a little insane and very ‘I am woman hear me roar.’ I may be all woman, but I stopped roaring sometime after Andy fell asleep. I feel the familiar spiral come on, and just as I break out the sweatpants, Eric is at my front door dressed in his fancy thousand-dollar pajamas.
“Did you drive here in those?” I ask as he stands on my porch.
“Yes, now let me in because that weird lady across the street is eying me from her house. She looks like Kathy Bates, don’t you think? Is your cell charged in case we need help?”
“Get inside, drama queen.”
Eric is carrying a bag. He takes me to my bedroom, and we both climb into bed. He pulls out an ancient-looking Walkman and places it between us. He then pulls out a tape that reads ‘The Greatest Love Songs of all Time.’
“How is listening to sad music going to help?”
“My first ever breakup was with a guy named Bobby Hart. I still remember it like it was yesterday. Anyway, my mom gave me this tape. She said you have to go through the motions and let it all out.”
He follows by taking out a zip-lock bag full of miniature bottles of alcohol, then another bag full of chocolate bars. With a headphone placed in one ear, he clicks the button and presses play. I recognize the tune immediately as ‘I’m All Out of Love’ by Air Supply that blasts through the headphones.
Fuck, it hurts like hell.
I find myself singing along, out of tune, and when the pain strikes hard, the little bottle of gin numbs me, and the pain becomes a little less. But after a high, comes the fall which happens somewhere in Sinead O’Connor’s ‘Nothing Compares to You.’ Even Eric starts crying, and just when our tears seemed unstoppable, we lose ourselves in the chocolate and head on to the scotch. Now, the scotch seems to work wonders, using our gospel voices and over-dramatic hand gestures for ‘Hero’ by Mariah Carey, but then we hit rock bottom. Whitney Houston starts singing ‘I Will Always Love You.’
“Eric, I miss him. He said he loved me,” I openly cry.
“I know you do. I miss having him around, too. He does love you, Adriana.”
“Why did he leave me?”
Eric opens a bottle of vodka and hands it to me. “He’s got things to work through. It got hard. He’ll come back.”
I down the bottle in one go, letting out a rasp as the burn invades my throat. “You can’t promise that.”
“I swear on my vintage Chanel messenger bag he will return.”
“Eric, you can’t swear on that. You love that bag.”
“Okay, you’re right. I swear on my Armani loafers.”
“The crocodile skin ones?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You hate those shoes. You said they pinch your toes, and you’re worried that you’ll end up with a fungal toe, and people will make fun of you on the street.”
“Did I say that?”
“You did. Back to swearing on the bag.”
It may not have been the man I wanted in my bed tonight but snuggling into Eric’s side is second best.
I don’t cry tonight.
Instead, the nightmares plague me.
***
The next couple of days, I went through the motions just like Eric said. A major one was guilt. I may have been upset and drunk, but I had no right to call Charlie what I did.
With five days passing, I feel like shit for not contacting her sooner knowing that an apology is well-deserved. The best way to see her will be in her office, and Eric was quick to inform me that she would be at work tomorrow.
With Andy settled into daycare, I make my way across town to Charlie’s office.
I sit in front of her desk and wait for her to enter, fiddling my thumbs nervously as I cross my legs, ignoring the annoying twitch building up in my knees.
The office is small yet modern and posh. Eric’s mother had flown over from New York and decorated it in one day. She has connections across the country, and her style is modern sheik. Charlie’s office is mainly white with a feature wall covered in Damask fabric with a beautiful pattern. The black stands out amongst the white, and behind Charlie’s desk are shelves perfectly aligned with files, books, and pictures of her family. The desk in front of me is spotless, not a single speck of dust nor an item of stationery out of place. Lex and Charlie are both clean freaks. I don’t consider myself messy, but I’m not exactly going to have a meltdown if a pen is out of place.
A gust of wind enters the room followed by the click of heels. I turn around, and Charlie is walking toward me. At first, she doesn’t notice, busily carrying a laptop and several folders. The second she does, she freezes for a brief moment letting out a gasp almost dropping everything. Composing herself, she walks around and places everything on her desk.
“Hi, Charlie,” I greet her softly.
She acknowledges me with a lukewarm smile. I deserve it. Working in silence, she plugs the laptop into the docking station and takes a seat. I can’t help but notice her dark gray pantsuit. It fits her like a glove, joined with a crisp white fitted shirt. Charlie is naturally beautiful, and it’s blatantly obvious at this moment why my brother worships the ground she walks on. I’m tongue-tied, trying to find the right words.
Geez, I’ve had days to prepare my apology, and now I go blank.
This is starting off really bad.
“God, I’m so sorry for being the biggest bitch on the planet. It was so uncalled for and not true. I just… fuck, I can’t even think straight and apologize right,” I babble.
She remains silent, poised, and calm. Pushing her glasses past the bridge of her nose, she leans back into the chair, crossing her legs appropriately.
“It was uncalled for, mean, and very out of character. It hurt to be called such a disgusting word by someone who I consider my sister.”
I nod, almost on the verge of tears.
“Adriana, I don’t know where this is coming from. Julian adores you, and yet you threw it all in his face because of your insecurities.”
“It’s not easy being compared to you.”
She laughs momentarily. “Adriana, no one is comparing us except for you. You wanted us to all get along, and I tried my damn hardest to control Lex, but it doesn’t help that you keep throwing fuel into the fire.”
“Well, it’s done and over with.” My bleak response is the harsh cold reality of it all.
Charlie lets out a long sigh. “Both of you have a lot of personal struggles. Just like any relationship, there’s the peak and the fall. This is your fall. Sometimes there are several falls, but getting up and working toward the peak, that’s what love is all about.”
She’s right. Julian and I have our struggles. It’s never going to be a perfect love story.
“You love him, Adriana?”
I nod instantly.
“Then heal yourself before you try to heal your relationship. Use this time apart wisely.”
“What if he doesn’t want that? What if he finds someone else?” I ask in a panic.
“If he loves you like he confessed that night, he won’t look for anyone else. You need to trust his word, too, Adriana, and allow him time to heal.”
It makes sense. Both of us rely heavily on each other to fi
x the broken past never realizing that some things can never be repaired. Just like Julian once told me, putting a Band-Aid on the problem doesn’t make it go away.
“I’m sorry, Charlie.”
Charlie walks around the desk motioning for me to stand. Wrapping her arms around me, I allow my head to fall on her shoulder, and low and behold, the waterworks start again covering her jacket.
“You’re forgiven, but next time I want an apology basket full of chocolate, flowers, and your Dylan McKay Barbie doll,” she says lightheartedly.
“I forgot about him. And besides, there won’t be a next time.” I smile apologetically.
She takes a seat back in her chair and tells me about Amelia’s tantrum occurring in the grocery store yesterday, even showing me a video. It’s YouTube-worthy, and wow, what an outburst over some candy. How Charlie remains calm is beyond me, especially with Ava crying in her carrier.
“It was mortifying. Everyone was judging me, and the only reason I filmed it was I knew Lex wouldn’t believe me and would probably buy her a pony to cheer her up. You can imagine how surprised I was when Lex got home and had a word with her. She did her whole daddy-I-love-you bullshit, but he was strong and didn’t back down.”
“Wow, I can’t believe Lex disciplined her. He’s finally becoming a man.”
“Yeah, I know. She’s not allowed to play with her Batmobile for a week, and let me tell you, she cried like it was the end of the world. Lex couldn’t believe it.”
“Sounds like you had one hell of a week.”
“Not as bad as yours, Adriana, but I can use a night out with my besties. You free tonight for a quick drink somewhere? We don’t need to make it a whole night out, and Lex can watch Andy.”
“Sure, you better call drama queen and let him know.”
I go to stand, but my dress gets caught in the handle of the chair, and I fall to the floor scraping my wrist on a loose screw drilled into the table. Ouch!