by Hazel Kelly
I nodded and brought my glass around to my preferred side.
She slumped down across from me a second later.
I set my drink on the table and laid the blanket between us where we’d stretched out our legs. “He was so right for me on paper.”
“Oh not this again.”
I furrowed my brow. “Did I already say that?”
She laughed. “A few times.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
I reached for a croissant. “It’s true, though. He was everything I wanted.”
“And a lot of things you didn’t want.”
“Mmm.”
“You want my opinion?” Brook asked.
“Sure.”
“I think you need to forget about this perfect match checklist bullshit.”
I pursed my lips.
“I mean-” She took a sip of her drink and her eyes watered. “You wouldn’t judge someone’s ability to do a job by what it said on their resume.”
I furrowed my brows. “Yes I would. Doesn’t everybody?”
“Okay, maybe that’s a bad example.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure where you were going with that.”
“Oh I remember!” She reached back and redid her messy bun. “You know how when you hired Nora, you were worried that she had zero relevant experience?”
“Yeah.”
“And she’s been great, right?”
I sighed. “She’s a work in progress.”
“But she’s loyal.”
“She is.”
She craned her neck forward. “Which you can’t put on a resume.”
“I suppose not.”
“Meanwhile-” She reached for the croissants but her arm wouldn’t stretch far enough.
I handed the half I had left across the couch to her.
“Thanks.”
“Meanwhile, what?” I asked.
“Meanwhile, my resume says I’m proficient with Excel.”
“So?”
“So it’s a lie,” she said, rolling her eyes up. “Like, arguably the world’s biggest lie.”
“No offense, Brook, but I don’t really see what this has to do with Simon.”
“Bear with me, okay. I’m a little fragile today.” She took another swig of her drink. “The point is, these days, when it comes to people’s resumes and profiles and reputations, everything is so manufactured. Everyone wears all these different masks all the time depending on what they’re doing and who they’re with.”
“Okay.”
“So you can’t judge anyone based on what they tell you about themselves or believe you know someone because of who they are on paper.”
“So how the hell are you supposed to judge people?”
She pursed her lips.
“Cause it’s not like you can go through life without doing it.” I leaned my head forward. “You have to. For your own sanity and protection.”
“You have to judge them based on what they do.”
“Cause actions speak louder than words.”
“Unfortunately.” She licked some chocolate out of the corner of her mouth. “And you know that’s true because it explains why seeing Simon’s betrayal for a split second was enough to completely erase every sweet nothing he ever whispered in your ear and every promise he ever made you.”
I nodded. “It was.”
“So who cares if he’s a smart guy with a good job from a nice family on paper? It doesn’t change the fact that he’s a jerk.”
“Why do you think he did it?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t think it’s cause of that impression I do of Cathy Bates in Misery?”
She hung her head and looked at me. “First of all, the reason that impression is funny is because of how far away you are from being an overweight, deranged psychopath.”
I sighed.
“But more importantly, this isn’t your fault. He didn’t do this to you because of anything you did wrong. He did it because he’s not as evolved as men who’ve learned to keep their dick where it belongs.”
“In my head I know that,” I said, tucking a blonde wisp behind my ear. “But in my heart, I can’t help but feel like he betrayed me so severely that I must’ve deserved it.”
“The only thing you deserve is to be with someone a whole lot better than Simon.”
I crossed my arms. “It’s just weird to feel like you know someone better than you know yourself and then find out you didn’t know them at all.”
Brook’s eyes turned down at the corners.
“It undermines all the knowledge I ever thought I had.”
“Knowing stuff is overrated.”
I rolled my eyes.
“You know what isn’t, though?”
I raised my eyebrows. “What?”
“Not marrying a lying sack of shit.”
I exhaled through my lips, remembering all of a sudden how weird they felt earlier after Ben kissed them. “Yeah, I guess it could be worse. I could’ve found out who he was after we got hitched.”
“Can I ask you something?” Brook asked, pulling at the strings on her navy hoodie.
“Sure.”
“During the engagement, did you ever have any doubts?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I didn’t have any. It’s only now that I’m full of them.”
Chapter 4: Ben
I looked up as Will slid in the booth across from me.
“Is that the smug face you’re going to make on the big day?” I asked, sliding my phone in my pocket.
He picked up the cloth napkin in front of him and laid it across his lap. “What? You don’t think it suits me?”
I rolled my eyes. “I asked Charlie to bring us two beers so we could toast properly, but in the meantime-” I raised my glass of ice water. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks, Ben,” he said, lifting his glass. “Did you put in an order for food yet?”
I took a sip and put my water down. “Yeah, I got you the sirloin.”
He nodded.
I raised my eyebrows. “That okay with you?”
“Everything they have here is okay with me,” he said. “Otherwise it wouldn’t be on the menu.”
“Right,” I said, remembering that nothing happened in his hotels without his consent, except maybe where I was concerned. “So did you take my advice about the ring or-”
“I did, yeah. And as soon as I asked what the most popular ones were, I understood how far off base I was. But that’s what happens when you only see engagement rings that make the front of People Magazine.”
“Speaking of which, what did Ella think of the Times Square thing?”
“I think she thought it was cute for the first five minutes. But when her phone didn’t stop ringing after two hours, I pulled it.”
“I didn’t realize you were so cheesy.”
“I was going to use it to ask her in the first place,” he said, leaning back. “That’s why I reserved it.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “I thought about what you said about what would mean the most, and I figured making a spectacle of myself is the last thing I would dream of doing for anybody else so I was planning on dropping to my knee in Times Square and having “Will You Marry Me?” on the board behind me.”
“Wow.”
“But then I blew the surprise and asked her the night before so I figured- since I’d already reserved the slot- I’d use it for a public service announcement.”
“How did you blow it?”
“We went for a nice dinner at Bellini’s-”
“You have a table there?”
“Of course I have a table there.”
“How come you never offered to let me use it?”
“Cause you’d only waste it on a date with Christophe or some dime a dozen-”
I raised my eyebrows and craned my neck forw
ard. “Finish that sentence-”
“Sorry,” he said. “I forgot you were seeing someone.”
I felt a lump form in my throat. Fuck. So had I.
“I guess you can use it if you want,” he said. “If you’ve finally found a woman worth impressing.”
“Thanks,” I said, ignoring his reluctance to offer it up. “I’ll let you know when I can find time to put it to good use.”
“Sure.”
“So you went to dinner and then what?”
“We took a carriage home.”
I laughed.
“I know, but Ella enjoys it so we take them every now and again.”
“You’ve gone soft.”
Charlie arrived with our beers and a bread basket. “Your steaks will be out shortly, gentlemen.”
We nodded.
“Can I get you anything else in the meantime?” he asked, bending forward at the waist.
“No, Charlie. Look after the guests,” Will said. “We’re fine.”
“So get to the point,” I said after Charlie walked away. “How did you blow it?”
“It had gotten pretty late, and we were having a drink and listening to some jazz at my place-”
“Okay.”
“And Ella said she was going to go back to her apartment cause she and Jackie had plans early the next day.”
“Brutal.”
“I know. So when she got up to leave, I reached for her hand and asked her to stay.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And she said, ‘Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be. I stayed last night and promised Jackie’ blah blah-”
I raised my eyebrows.
“And I said, ‘I don’t think you understand. I want you to stay for good.’”
I leaned back in my chair.
“And when her eyes went wide, I slid off the couch onto my knee and said, ‘So I can spend every night with my wife-’”
“Wow.” I crossed my arms. “Men will say anything, won’t they?”
He laughed.
“So then what?”
“Then she sank back down on the couch, and I ran to get the ring.”
“You didn’t have it?”
“Not on me, but she stayed put on the couch until I got back down on my knee in front of her.”
I nodded.
“And then I said, ‘Ella Riley, I’m already the richest, most successful, most handsome man in the world, but the only way I’ll ever be the happiest is if you’ll agree to be my wife-’”
I squinted at him. “You did not say that.”
“I most certainly did.”
“That is the most self-centered-”
He raised his hand. “I’m not finished.”
“Sorry.”
“And then I said, ‘Because even after everything I’ve achieved, there is nothing that makes me prouder or fills me with more joy, than knowing a day has gone by where I have been a man worthy of your affection. So if you’ll let me have you and hold you for the rest of my days, I promise I’ll do everything I can to make putting up with me worth your while.’”
“Is that it?”
“That’s the gist of it anyway.”
“Not bad.”
“Hey- who the fuck cares- at least she said yes, right?”
I laughed.
“And she loved the ring. Said it was perfect. Said she was always worried I’d get something too big-”
“Really?”
He nodded. “Yeah. So let’s keep those first attempts between us cause she thinks I nailed it.”
“Sure thing.”
He lifted his beer towards me and clinked it against mine before taking a long sip.
“I’m kinda proud of you,” I said.
“Thanks, kid. I’m kinda proud of me, too.”
“So now what?”
“Now the next few weeks of our lives are going to be hell because she wants a winter wedding, and she wants to do everything herself.”
“What?!”
He shook his head. “I know. But the short notice suits me fine because we won’t have to invite as many people and half the people we can’t avoid inviting will already have plans.”
“Wow.”
“And thanks in advance for telling your mom for me cause I have enough to worry about.”
I furrowed my brow. “You haven’t told her?”
He raised his eyes to the ceiling. “I don’t think phoning the ex is usually anyone’s first port of call after something like this.”
“Yeah, but-”
“No buts. If I tell her, she’ll just say a bunch of nasty stuff she’ll regret and then inviting her to the wedding will be awkward.”
I nodded. “You have a point.”
“I know. So you do it. That way she can say all the nasty stuff she wants, and it won’t be weird for anyone.”
I rolled my eyes. “What a treat.”
“I owe you one.”
“Can I use our name for my-”
“No.”
I sighed.
“What?”
“Can I ask you something else?”
He lifted a palm in my direction. “If you get on with it.”
“I know it’s a weird time to ask, considering the happy news, but why didn’t you and Mom work out?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Sorry?”
I shrugged. “Why did you guys get divorced?”
He leaned an ear towards me. “Are you being serious?”
“Yeah,” I said, scratching the back of my head. “I’ve heard Mom’s side of the story but-”
“Which is what?”
“That you were essentially a self-obsessed workaholic back then who had no time for either of us.”
His lips fell apart.
“And she didn’t want me to grow up thinking it was acceptable to neglect your wife the way you neglected her.”
“That’s what she told you?”
“It’s not like we’ve talked about it recently, but that’s basically her side of the story as I remember it. Anyway, I’ve always wanted to ask if you regretted how things fell apart-”
“Oh I’m sorry alright.”
“You are?”
“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “I’m sorry that I neglected my relationship with you after your mom and I split up.”
I pursed my lips.
“And I’m sorry she lied to you about what happened.”
“What?”
“I suppose I understand why she did it, but-”
“What do you mean?”
He sighed.
“Will.”
He shook his head. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Okay,” he said, putting his hands on the table. “I’m no saint, Ben. You know that. And my ambition was certainly a challenge for your mom and me.”
I swallowed.
“But my shortcomings are not why we got divorced.”
I clenched my jaw.
“Not even close.”
“Okay,” I said. “So why did you get divorced?”
He looked down at the table and then up at me. “Because I caught her fucking a pool boy in Dubai.”
Chapter 5: Carrie
I was no longer avoiding my bed.
In fact, ever since Brook helped me make it on Sunday, it was the only piece of furniture in my apartment I had any interest in at all.
I don’t know if it was that being in my bed felt like I was making much needed progress or if I was afraid something else bad would happen if I left it unattended, but I basically started doing all of my eating, sleeping, working, reading, sulking, and relaxing in it.
Of course, there was a chance I was officially depressed.
After all, apart from Ben, there had only been three leads on the ad, and I’m not sure I could even call the last one a lead since it was from someone who didn’t even need anything designed. He was just getting in touch to say he could improve my w
ebsite if I was interested.
Which I wasn’t.
Improving anything takes money, and I was a single income household for the first time in years. And that was just on paper since I didn’t really have any income at all.
In fact, after the fees for my apartment, my new office, and Nora, there was nothing left to pay myself.
So I was basically living off the money I was going to spend on my wedding dress.
As far as the other two leads, the first was from a man who wanted me to do his office space, and I wasn’t sure if I could justify taking the job for how cheaply he wanted me to do it.
Meanwhile, the other was from a woman who wanted me to redo her bathroom, which seemed promising at first.
But as she told me more about the project, it became clear that she would be the one doing the designing and only needed my help in securing the best prices on the items she chose, which wasn’t exactly a big boost to my self-esteem.
Then again, it would take a pretty grand gesture to boost the self-esteem of someone like me, someone who was dumped, broke, and had eaten nothing but croissants for dinner three nights in a row.
I mean, there were moments when I was convinced I would’ve dug myself an early grave if I had a yard to dig it in.
To make matters worse, I was thinking about Ben almost as much as I was thinking about Simon now, which made me feel deranged.
After all, I’d spent years thinking about Simon, washing his underwear, cooking him food, taking care of him when he was sick, thinking about what our kids would look like…
And yet- perhaps on account of my fragile mental state- Ben had become this sort of heroic figure in my mind. Not only had he kissed me when I needed attention more than I knew, but he was the client who could potentially keep the sun from setting on my newborn business.
And I really needed his job now more than ever because if I lost my business, I’d be really fucked. And not just because I’d have to go work for someone else- which I promised myself I would never do again- but because I would have failed at everything that defined who I was.
Anyway, it wasn’t until my phone rang that I realized I didn’t even know what book I was pretending to read on my kindle, much less how many pages I had turned without comprehending them.
“Mom. Hi.”
“Hi sweetie.”
“How are you? How’s dad?” I sat up against the pillows and pulled the comforter up over my chest.