Forgive Us Our Trespasses

by M. L. Steinbrunn

  “What the fuck, man?” he growls. “That chick was hot; what did you do? You asked for a distraction, and I’m trying to provide you with one.”

  I pat him on the shoulder in an attempt to cool his flaring temper. I know that by my rejection of Nikki, his evening with slutty brunette will now crash and burn. “I asked you to get me drunk, not laid, Lake. Besides, I’ve spent my entire adult life trying to avoid gonorrhea; I don’t have any desire to have it now.”

  “Since when do you care if it’s alcohol or pussy that brightens your night, Brooks?”

  I throw a hundred dollar bill on the bar and adjust the sleeves on my jacket. “You’re right; I never cared before. Now I care. I appreciate your effort, but I’m just not interested. Please stay, enjoy your evening, but I’m going to head home.”

  I don’t let him try to talk me into staying or offer to come with me. I shuffle past Nikki, who has found her next target for the evening, and from the looks of it, the bloke she’s selected will have no problem accepting her advances.

  As quickly as I can, I drive home, aching to just collapse onto my bed. Everyone is sleeping, and I don’t want to disturb anyone. I strip down to my boxer briefs and climb under the duvet. I stare at my phone, willing it to show a text or missed call from Vivian, but there’s nothing. She has nothing that she wants to say to me. She wants nothing to do with me.

  I bring up the keyboard and type the only words that I want her to remember, the only words that I have to say to her. My thumb hovers over the send button, but I stall, taking a deep breath, hesitating even more. Before I can change my mind, I hit send, turn off the lamp, and roll under my blankets, hoping that sleep will help to erase the heartache that has consumed me.

  Friday Morning

  Vivian

  Nauseous. Every time I get my stomach under control, Brooks will call or text or the kids will ask if I’m getting excited for Brook’s surprise, and the churning will return. The first snow of the season has finally moved in, and the backyard looks similar to how my heart feels–empty, blank, cold, and sad. For the last week, I’ve done well avoiding him, but it’s been exhausting. I miss him. I don’t know if that makes me weak, or stupid, or just in love, but after everything, I still just miss him.

  I’ve tried diving into writing assignments to distract myself, but every article I try to write ends up turning into a soapbox about honesty, or about whether or not love is enough. Well, you get the idea, and needless to say, it had nothing to do with the product that I was supposed to be reviewing, and none of it would impress my editor.

  I’ve made it to Friday, and I’m supposed to be having a girls’ night out, but I’m not in the mood to drink and then cry in public, because I know that is what the night will turn into. Amanda has been home for a few days, but I haven’t told her anything about Brooks, just that he and I were going to slow things down and spend a little time apart. I’m having a hard time admitting to myself, let alone anyone else, that it might be completely over.

  The pulsing of my phone pulls me from my pit of misery. I slowly peek at the screen, hoping that it’s not from Brooks, again. When I see Jen’s name appear in the message box, I’m relieved but surprisingly disappointed too.

  Jen: I hope u drank plenty of water today. Us bitches are going 2 tear it up tonight!! Plus I have an extra surprise 4 u!

  I let out a groan. Just as I suspected, a liquored-up evening of embarrassing body bouncing that will ultimately end with me sobbing about how Brooks has let me down again. If there’s enough tequila involved throughout the evening, it might even include a cab ride to Brooks’ house so Jen can skewer his balls. She always follows through.

  Me: I don’t really feel like it tonight, rain check.

  Jen: Oh, hell no! Not happening…I will be over at 5. Get ur ass in the shower. I can smell ur skank from here.

  I scrunch my nose at the word skank as my eyes pass over it. I love her to death, but damn if she isn’t the most uncouth 28-year-old professional woman I know.

  Me: OMG, did you just really call me skanky! I am a mom for fuck’s sake.

  Jen: What can I say? I’m a straight shooter lol. JK. Start getting ready. I’ll be over soon. U R GOING!

  Me: Grrrr

  Jen: Shut it. I’ll bring clothes from the shoot today. Mom jeans or yoga pants are not approved attire for the evening. I’m taking u somewhere fun tonight!

  Me: Mom jeans? Really?

  Jen: Well like u said, ur a mom for fuck’s sake. LMAO!

  Me: Oh, sweet baby Jesus. Ttyl.

  Jen: Bye muffin (without the top) hehehe.

  Letting out a giggle, I turn in my desk chair and toss my phone on my bed just as I hear the front door open. Amanda is home from picking up the kids from school, and their voices echo up the stairs. Raising my arms above my head, I stretch, letting my tired muscles burn. The stress of the situation is wearing on me. Maybe a girls’ night would loosen the tension that’s taking over my body.

  After sliding on my slippers and adjusting my greasy–yes, I said greasy–ponytail, I adjust my sweatpants and tee shirt to go downstairs and greet the kids. Reflecting on my attire, maybe Jen had a point; I am one pathetic mess at the moment. She probably could smell me from the other side of the suburb. I smell my armpit, hoping for the scent of the deodorant that promised miracles. I pull away quickly from the detonation zone after catching the stench of my own wretched body odor. Yup, I’m an embarrassing disarray of a woman.

  I spritz some body spray on, hoping to mask my obvious post-breakup meltdown, and then I head down the hall to find everyone. Just as I reach the top of the stairs, their conversation becomes clearer, forcing my body to halt. My feet refuse to take another step forward.

  “So Brooks asked you guys for permission?” I hear Amanda ask.

  “Yeah, he said he loves Mom and us, and wants us all to be a family. So he asked if it was okay if he married her,” Blake answered.

  I gasp, my hand flying to my mouth in disbelief. I knew we were serious; we both wanted to move forward. But after finding out the truth, I’m shocked that he would even consider making us a family without sharing his secret with me. It would have been a surprise, and I would struggle dealing with the ramifications, including what my family would say, but I would have never judged him for it. I just wish he could have trusted me enough to know that.

  “He showed us the ring and everything, Aunt Manda!” Emma squeals. “It’s sooo pretty, and he said Grace and I will get to wear princess dresses and throw flowers at people.”

  “You mean you two get to be the flower girls,” Amanda laughs.

  “Yes!” she shouts. But then I hear Blake shush her.

  “Quiet, it’s a surprise, remember? Mom isn’t supposed to find out. He’s going to ask her next weekend when they go on a special trip. Then we can all talk about it. Okay, Em?”

  “Okay, my lips are sealed.” I picture her doing her special lip-zipper move and throwing away the key. She means well, but Emma has never been able to keep a secret. She is a blabbermouth in training. We can never tell her what anyone is getting for their birthday or Christmas because she always lets it slip.

  Unable to hear any more of this gutting conversation, I try to make as much noise as possible as I march down the stairs so they’ll quickly end their discussion.

  True to her word, Jen shows up with her arms filled with dresses and accessories for our girls’ night on the town. She pokes and prods, pins and fluffs until she feels I’m presentable. I feel like I’m doing an excellent job of masking my misery; hell, I’m used to it by now. For the last week, I would put on the ‘everything is fine’ show for Amanda and the kids, but as soon as they left, I would fall apart and spend the day soaking in my gloom.

  However, as I sink onto the cool barstool at the bar she has dragged us all to, I see her glaring at me, and I know my façade has been discovered. I order a pink moscato, which surprisingly, Jen doesn’t protest, but when she says nothing when Carly orders an ice wa
ter, I know some kind of inquisition is shooting my way.

  Deflecting, I grab my drink and swing in my stool to look out to the sea of twenty-somethings chatting and laughing, letting off steam after what I imagine was a stressful work week. I only wish work was why I was tense.

  “So, what is the surprise that you told me you just had to share with us, and was so important we all had to dress-up and come out for?” I ask as I click my four-inch, probably $400 heels together, which she brought over from her photo-shoot.

  “You’ll see soon, and by the way, I realize something is up with you, but you don’t need to take it out on the shoes. Those are Manolo fucking Blahniks for Christ’s sake; have some respect.”

  I stop my leg swinging and hold up my hands as a sign of surrender. “Sorry, I’m just anxious for your surprise,” I lie.

  “Seriously, what is going on, Jen? We’ve had this girls’ night planned for a while, but I was thinking Sushi and a movie, maybe spice things up with a little Sake and some flirting with the Hibachi chef. I don’t think anyone was thinking miniskirts, booze, and heels. So let us in on the big deal here.”

  Before she can answer, Jen lets out a bellowing screech that attracts the attention of all nearby patrons. I cover my ears, and then I watch as she sprints from our group toward the masses of people. People part as she approaches, until she finds her target, and is pulled into an embrace. I still can’t see who is meant to be are fourth wheel for the evening, and Carly and I look to each other for the answer. We both come up blank until Jen pulls away from our mystery guest and begins walking back to us.

  “Oh, my God, that is Campbell!” Carly shouts and runs towards Jen and our old roommate. She is bouncing up and down like a teenage girl who’s just seen her favorite boy band member. Neither Jen nor Campbell joins in her bouncing; instead, they just grin and absorb her excitement.

  I hop off my chair and follow her, happy to see my old friend, but nowhere near Carly’s overabundance of enthusiasm. I haven’t seen her since mine and Will’s wedding, when the band that she was promoting played for the reception.

  Cam’s long black hair hits halfway down her back and her honey brown eyes make her pale skin even more pronounced. She is stunning; there is no other way to describe her. My Goth friend went and got all grown-up and gorgeous. She was always the girl that hung with the bands, wore torn, faded jeans, and the t-shirt of the band she was hanging with. Oddly enough, she never dated anyone in the bands, she just loved the music. And if she loved their sound, as she called it, then she promoted them like crazy. In college, she was constantly dragging us to shows and making us hand out show flyers around campus. Last time I heard, she was promoting and managing the publicity for several different bands.

  I smile and start to say hello, but Campbell pulls me into her tightly and gives me a huge hug, which is very out of character for her. Growing up in foster care, Cam never had the affection most of us take for granted. She never shared stories with me about the different homes she had been in; but she did with Jen, and from what I came to understand was that things happened to her growing up, making her very uncomfortable with affection. So this hug is something to not take lightly.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for the funeral, Viv. I loved Will like a brother. He took care of all of us when we needed it.” She whispers her sentiments low enough not to bring attention to the others, but her words sting my heart. I’ve moved on from the love that I lost, but the reminder still hurts, and it’s not something I think I will ever fully get over.

  “Thank you, Cam. We are doing okay. It took time, but I’ve been able to move on, and I can finally say that I’m all right. Thank you for that, though. Will was a good man, the best of men.”

  She pats my back, and we all turn to make our way back to our seats at the bar. We take our seats and immediately inundate Campbell with questions about what she has been doing, where she has been travelling, and what bands she’s been with. She can barely keep up with our rapid fire.

  “I can’t believe you kept this a secret!” Carly shouts over the noise of the growing crowd, pointing at Jen like she might climb the bar.

  “Cam’s band is playing here, and I just found out like two days ago, so I thought it would be a fun surprise. Besides, it’s not the only little-something in store for this evening.”

  “Well, I don’t think anything can top Cam being here,” I say, clinking my glass with Cam’s.

  “Surprise number two should be here anytime, so drink up ladies; this is going to be a group affair tonight!”

  “Group affair?” Carly asks.

  “Yeah, you didn’t think you got dressed up for me, did you? I got you hot-to-trot for your men-folk. They should be here any minute. Amanda is watching everyone’s children, even your little demonling, Carly. I’m getting my girls drunk and laid! Woohoo!” she yells.

  My smile fades as her words sink in–Brooks has been invited out with us. I only hope that he has decided to stay away. The last thing I want is to see him tonight. I quickly plaster my fake smile into place, unwilling to call attention to my unease.

  I glance over at Carly who is gleaming with anticipation. Apparently, this is one of the few date nights she and Jack have had in the two years since Olivia was born. I don’t want to ruin her night, but I’m still angry at Brooks, and I don’t think I could contain my anger like I did the last time I saw him. Her eyes light up and I follow her line of sight to see Jack come through the front doors. I feel myself holding my breath waiting to see Brooks just behind him, and relief washes over me when I see Jack is alone.

  Just when I think I’ve caught my bearings, I hear the tap, tap on the microphone. Everyone in the bar directs their attention to the darkened stage, and my heart plummets into my stomach when I see the spotlights shine down on Brooks standing center stage, gripping onto the mic.

  “I know you are all here to see Absolution, and they will be out in just a second to give you guys an awesome show, but they allowed me to steal the stage for a minute,” Brooks announces, and the crowd greets him with groans and boos.

  “There is someone special here tonight, and I’ve asked the band to sing a special song just for her.” The drunken partygoers break into applause as I mumble curse words under my breath. I look to Jen, who is hardly able to contain her shit-eating grin, and then Carly, who has lost all focus and is making out with Jack like the sex-depraved parents I’m sure they are.

  “You see, guys, I had the most amazing woman in the world, but I lost her. I lied to her, and hid something from her. I’m standing up here tonight to let her know I’m not running anymore. I’m not going anywhere this time. Vivian, I’m sorry for everything. You are my forever, and I meant every word of that. I only hope that you let me prove it.”

  Everyone erupts into cheers as he jumps off the stage and the band begins to play. The smooth guitar melody sweeps through the buzzing atmosphere. When the lead singer finally lets out the first notes of the hypnotic love song, the crowd screams and then sways with the rhythm of the music. I don’t allow myself to be pulled into the soothing lyrics or overwhelming beats of the song. Instead, I focus on my embarrassment. Not only do my friends now know that something has happened between Brooks and me, he has presented our dirty laundry to every drunken patron of the bar. I’m sure every other girl in the world would be impressed and taken aback by the grand gesture. But as much as I love this man, I’m too hurt and pissed to care about this public announcement.

  When the house lights darken, I lose Brooks in the crowd; I know he’s headed my way, and my emotions are telling me to do so many different things, I feel like I’m being torn apart. The confusion on the faces of my friends does nothing to help my plagued psyche. All I know is I need to find Brooks before he finds me. I refuse to sit at a table for the duration of the evening with him pretending like his scene made everything better.

  “What the fuck was that?” Jen asks as I hop off my barstool, scanning the crowd for Brooks.


  Ignoring her question, I drain the last bit of my glass of wine and move away from the bar. “Stay here, I’ll be back in a second.”

  I don’t make it very far before I run into the strong, toned chest that I have spent many nights snuggled up against. He wraps his arms around me and kisses the crown of my head. I desperately want to melt into him, but I don’t let myself. I have forever been that weak girl that didn’t think she deserved this relationship, but I now know I deserve better than a relationship where honesty is not a priority. I can’t just forget his betrayal and sweep this all under the rug.

  I move out of his strong arms and step away. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Vivian, give me a chance to explain everything. I pushed you away last time and it was such a huge mistake.” I see the torment in his eyes pleading for forgiveness, but as much as I want to give it, I don’t have the strength yet to overcome his betrayal.

  “I can’t right now, Brooks. This is not the time, nor the place for this conversation.” I look around, noticing the crowd that was once focused on us has since gone back to their conversations; well, except for our friends, who are intently trying to listen to our confrontation. “I can’t believe that you did this in front of everyone like this,” I say in a loud, stern whisper as I duck my eyes away from our silent audience and back to Brooks. “I’m not ready to see you, Brooks, please just go.”

  A look of determination sweeps across his face, and I notice his hands ball into fists. “No. I’m not leaving. I realize that I hid from you; I know that I fucked things up not once, but twice.” His voice begins to rise in decibel level with each word, and I feel the eyes around us begin to take notice of our situation. I feel my face heat up in both anger and embarrassment. Never have I ever had a public fight, and I feel that I am cornered into having one. I feel the tears stinging my eyes as I let them scan faces around the bar, the floor, the ceiling–any place other than Brooks’ eyes.

  “Look at me, Vivian,” he shouts, bringing my attention to his sapphire orbs. “Every day I regret what I did to hurt you, but you are making the same mistake now. I can’t be without you again. We belong together. Don’t walk away from me, from us.”