by B. L. Berry
“If you’re here to rub it in, there’s nothing you could possibly do or say to make me feel any worse than I already do right now.”
“That’s not what I came to do, Elyse.” Alex turns to me, and slips his arms around my waist, pulling me in for a tight hug. He whispers right into my hair. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I swear.”
He loosens his grip and pulls back to look at me. He gestures his head to the couch and we both take a seat. I curl up with the afghan my grandmother knitted for me when I left for college. It’s soft and starting to unravel at the corners from the number of times I’ve washed it.
Alex sits back on the other end of the couch. The look he delivers tells me he wants to take away my pain.
“So what’s really on your mind right now?”
I’m not sure how much detail Olivia gave him, but it’s evident he knows more than I ever wanted him to know. And in a total girl moment, I lose my shit. Like, holy cow, hyperventilating, over the top, where the hell is this coming from level of losing my shit.
Without a second thought as to who I’m talking to, I blurt out, “I can’t believe my life has ended up here. Like this.” I reek of regret and self-loathing. I’m the other woman. I try to dry my cheeks but the effort is useless. The damn tears won’t stop coming.
“Hey, don’t be like that.” Alex scoots closer to me and rubs his hand in tiny circles over my back.
“How can I not be like that? I ruined a marriage. I was having an affair with a man I didn’t know was married.”
“I know it’s hard to think of it like this but maybe — just maybe — you are exactly where you are meant to be in this moment?”
I guffaw. And then I cry some more. Wishing that the tears would erase the memory of him. “In this moment I represent destruction standing at the corner of adulteress and homewrecker. That is not who I am. And that’s certainly not where I’m meant to be.” I look to the floor and see the bottle of wine that kept me warm last night in Simon’s absence.
“I know it’s not. But right now, here on this couch with me, you are out of their equation. You’ve removed yourself from the situation, right?” I nod and Alex pulls me into his chest a little tighter. “See? You’re already making the move that is best for you. And it’s not up to you to make things right. This is their mess, they are the ones who need to make it better for themselves, not you. There is nothing you can do to help their situation. No video. No testimony. No confrontation. Nothing.”
Oh God. She told him. Olivia fucking told him about the video. I’m going to kill her.
Literally.
I am going to find a dull blade and cut off her left tit. That bitch.
Alex keeps talking but I zone out, plotting the demise of my best friend. When I hear him on a tangent about right decisions I shake my head, rattling the thoughts from my mind. “Huh?”
“Hey? Are you still with me, El?”
“Yeah, sorry, I just spaced out.”
He says nothing, no doubt debating if he should reiterate everything he just said. “All I’m saying is it’s not up to you to bring justice for what’s been done. It isn’t your responsibility. Their marriage was ruined long before you came along, so don’t go thinking you were the bullet in the gun. If anything, you were the dirt on their grave, that moment of finality, the point of no return.”
He’s right. And I hate that he’s right. And I hate myself for silently holding onto the hope that perhaps Simon and I could work in spite of all this. But really, after what we’ve been through, or rather what I’ve been put through by both Simon and Sharna, I wouldn’t want the pair of us to work out. In fact, I kind of want him to be miserable and have his dick shrivel up and fall off.
“I know. I just want him to pay for what he did to me. To his wife. I want to hurt him like he’s hurt me.“ And I do realize that. But I also realize I have the chance to make things right. Sort of.
I mindlessly push my fingers through the holes in the afghan, stretching the yarn as far as I can before watching it retake its shape again. Alex pulls my chin toward him, forcing me to look him in the eyes.
“You’re not a vengeful person, Elyse. Don’t let the rage in the heat of the moment make the decision for you. You’re classier than that. I just hate that your emotions have been collateral damage in all of this.”
And just like that, I lose it again. I’m not even sure when I stopped crying in the first place.
“I hate that I’m falling into pieces in front of you.” My entire body shakes and I hardly recognize the sound of my own voice.
“I don’t mind. I would rather love your broken pieces than the whole pieces of anyone else.”
What?
I can’t even begin to process what he’s saying right now.
I lie down on the couch and bring my hands up to my face and cover it from his view. I can’t stop the tears and I want to disappear from this entire situation. He reaches out and pulls my hands into his. His movement is delivered with intention. Purpose.
And with that single touch my heart started to mend. Not because I was in love with him. But because I loved him. As a best friend. Stitch by stitch he sews me back together. And if only for a weak, fleeting moment, my heart beats for Alex.
Softly, he whispers reassurances and delicately runs his fingertips over my hair. The next thing I know, I am blanketed by Alex’s body. He curls up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, the heat of his chest inviting me closer.
I accept his comfort. Even though it’s the last thing I deserve.
I must have been a shitty person in another life to be given this hell.
“What on Earth are you talking about, Elyse? You are an incredible person. A good person. A giving one. You did nothing to deserve any of this.”
I didn’t realize I had spoken my thoughts aloud. I push all the air from my lungs and try to steel myself. “My life. My life is complete and total hell.”
“No. You’re alive. And breathing. And you found out about this piece of shit before it was too late. And I’m grateful that you learned the truth now and not years down the line.”
I keep my eyes shut and violently shake my head. Alex clings onto me tightly, literally holding me together.
“No, this is my own personal hell, Alex.”
“Stop that,” he snaps. I feel a shaky breath against my neck and his next words are low, sincere, long-awaited and have the power to change everything. “I’ll tell you a little something about hell. Do you want to know what hell is, Elyse? Hell is sitting here on the sidelines silently loving you more each day and watching you waste all of your love into that undeserving, deceitful asshole.”
What?
I open my mouth to react but he continues before I have the chance to speak.
“Don’t say anything because you know it’s true. You’ve known that I’ve loved you for far too long, and I’ve never once said anything about it because the timing was never right. But fuck timing. Our timing will never be right and so I’m saying it now. At the most inopportune moment. In the most unideal of circumstances. And arguably, the precise point in your life when you need to feel love the most. I, Alex Phinney, am completely and foolishly in love with you. And I don’t care if you don’t say it back because I know you love me, too.”
The only sound in the room comes from my slowing tears. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, wishing I could turn back time. Go back to the beginning before Simon and I ever got serious. Make the decision to kiss Alex right after he broke up with Maureen. Find a way to change this fate.
“Elyse, look at me.” He pulls at my shoulder and I roll over on the couch to meet his gaze. I can feel Alex’s hot breath as he lowers his mouth to my ear. “I know you love me, Elyse. And I know you’re hell bent on denying it. But I want you to know, it doesn’t matter if you willingly invite me in or if I have to break down the walls you’ve built, I’m getting inside that heart of yours one way or another. I’m not going anywhere
. I’m going to be right here. Waiting … waiting for you to be ready. Okay?”
Alex’s face turns into a blurry watercolor behind the tears pooling in my eyes. I bury my face in his chest and we lie there for an insurmountable period of time. Minutes pass. Or perhaps it’s hours. But it doesn’t matter because maybe he’s right. Maybe I am exactly where I’m meant to be in this moment?
If I were lost in the dark and endless night sky, Alex would be the North Star guiding me home again.
I’m on the cusp of falling asleep when I feel his lips press into my hair. Tenderly he kisses my forehead, my cheek, and my eyelids. “I want to kiss you right now. So bad.”
And my God do I want him to kiss away the pain right now. I want him to help me lose myself in this mess I’ve created. I want him to help me find myself again. And selfishly experience genuine love, if only for a moment.
Because he’s right about this, too. I know I love him. Some part of me always has. Always carried out hope. Always wanted the timing to be right. But sometimes you have to force it to be right, no matter how wrong it may be. Because if you idly sit by, waiting for it to happen, you could be waiting your entire life.
But right now, I can’t even trust myself to make the right decision. I’m petrified that my heart doesn’t know what love truly is. That it’s been mistaking convenience for love for years.
“Please?” he whispers, pulling me from my thoughts.
I shake my head no. I can’t kiss him right now. Because if I do, it’ll be for all the wrong reasons and end in heartbreak. And aren’t we all just one heartbreak away from complete and total destruction? Self-destruction is one thing … but to destroy Alex? Well, that would just be unforgivable.
I look at him, looking at me and fight the urge to say the hell with it. Because I’m desperate to know what his lips taste like. I’ve imagined they would be as soft as silk and fit perfectly against mine. I’m selfish like that.
Whoever said love wasn’t selfish had it all wrong. To take Alex’s love right now is, quite possibly, the most selfish thing in the world. I want more than anything to accept this from him. To hold onto it. To allow it to heal me.
But frankly, I’m not deserving of that love.
At least … not yet.
Alex reaches up and sweeps a falling tear off of my cheek, then leaves his palm cupping my face delicately. Our eyes lock, and of all the bad decisions I’ve made in my life, I know that kissing Alex right now would be the worst bad decision of all.
I shake my head no and his face falls, broken.
“I’m sorry, I never should have—“
“No, that’s not it,” I interrupt. And when I bring my hand up to my face, take his hand and lace my fingers through his, he finally looks at me again. “I’m not in my right mind. It wouldn’t be fair.” And that’s the truth. I summon all the bravery I can muster. “Because when I finally kiss you, Alex, I want it to be for the right reasons. I don’t want it to be stained with the tears caused by another man. I want it to be a fresh start.”
I want it to be the start of my fairy tale.
I watch the tension and confusion slip from his face. Alex nods and pulls me in against his body, tighter than I ever thought possible.
“I’ve felt a slow burn for the better part of a decade. Just give me time, Alex.” The words barely come out as a whisper. And I know it’s not a request. It’s a simple wish. The kind you make on a shooting star as a child.
“I’ve waited years for you, Elyse. I can wait a few more … for you.”
Forty-Three
Limitless
Early November
“Be honest. You haven’t seen Simon at all?” Olivia cracks open a peanut and tosses the shell to the floor. This place is caked in nastiness but I like that it’s low key and homey.
I’m a little surprised that she mentioned his name. She’s done everything in her power to keep my mind off of Simon. In fact, this may be the first time since we broke up that she’s brought him up in conversation.
Olivia has insisted on having an obligatory girl’s night out every Friday since my heart shattered to pieces. I’ve convinced her to stay in the past few weeks, but tonight we’re at a dive bar. Mostly because she forced me out of the house and I refused to get dolled up. I think she took the fact I walked across the street in my yoga pants as a victory. She, of course, looks adorable in her flowing tunic, skinny jeans and riding boots.
I just haven’t been really feeling like being around people any more than I have to.
“No, I haven’t.” But not because I haven’t wanted to see him because after the devastated look on his face when I kicked him out, I actually believed that he may have loved me. There was something in the way he looked at me, pleading with his eyes. It wasn’t the flash of terror and guilt that emanates when you know you’ve been caught in a web of lies. It was the look of a heart wrenching goodbye. The kind reserved for decades-long lovers about to part ways for all of eternity.
He truly loved me.
Not that it mattered. Simon didn’t have any right falling in love with me. Not under those circumstances. Not under a veil of deception.
“Sweetie, it’ll get easier. I promise.”
She said the same thing after Jason.
“Maybe I’m just not cut out for relationships? Or I’m just flawed and simply destined to fall for assholes over and over again?”
“First of all, everyone is flawed. So cut yourself some slack. Secondly, if you love yourself more than them, they can never break you. You are in charge of your heart, Elyse. And nobody should have that much power over you. Don’t you get it? You have the final say on if you get hurt.”
I’m not sure I’m capable of subscribing to her relationship theories. It’s called falling in love for a reason. You can’t control the focus of gravity that brings you tumbling to your knees. And when I fall in love, I want those bruises and skinned knees because that’s how I know it’s real. The amplified pain makes it real. I crave the kind of love that hurts to be without the other person. And I want that love to last until my dying breath and then forever after that.
“That’s you, Olivia. I’m not like that.”
“Yes, you are sweetie. Everything happens for a reason. Imagine where your life would be if you were still with Jason? You would be miserable in that marriage. And God forbid you never discovered the lying sack of shit that Simon was! Jesus, could you even imagine how that could’ve ended up?”
I have imagined it—many times. But I’ve come to accept that that fairy tale was penned by the Brother’s Grimm complete with its own tragic endings.
“You’re right. And thankfully it didn’t come to that.”
“All I’m saying is that you were strong enough and smart enough to remove yourself from both of those situations.” Olivia sighs in defeat but looks at me with an expression often reserved for funerals. “I just hope you know that you are worthy of a limitless love. The world is full of Jasons and Simons. And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it. But there are good guys out there. You just need to take better care of your heart.”
I crack open a peanut and add the shell to the pile at our feet.
“Thanks, Olivia. But can we talk about something else for a bit?”
“Okay. Enough about assholes.” Now that is something I can drink to. I tip my beer bottle her direction and take a long, satisfying sip. “So what’s going on with you and Phinney?”
“Nothing.” Yet.
Olivia gives me her classic knowing smile. She’s been scheming with Alex to get me out on a date. We’ve done a lot of hanging out lately, but just as friends. I’ve been nothing but transparent with him. He understands that I’m hurting and I can’t just allow myself to find comfort in his arms. I have to give myself the time to heal.
“Mmmmkay. Just don’t go stringing him along.”
“I’m not.” I bite my bottom lip and smirk. “I agreed to go on a date with him next weekend as long as he agre
ed to take things slow and let me set the pace.”
“SHUT UP!” she shrieks and throws her hands up in the air, knocking her beer over in the process. “It’s about damn time, woman!”
I give her a small smile and shrug, then help her soak up the booze with some napkins. “It’s not a big deal, really. So don’t blow it out of proportion.” Olivia knows that’s a flat-out lie. “I’m nervous about screwing things up again.”
“Don’t be. This is Alex we’re talking about.”
“Exactly. It is Alex. And that alone is enough to be nervous about. We’re such good friends that if this doesn’t work out, it’ll be all shades of awkward. ”
“Or maybe, just maybe, it’ll work because you are such good friends.”
Maybe? But I can only hope. And that is the one thing that Alex gives me. Hope.
I know I’m not over Simon yet but Alex was right. I am tired of pretending.
And I’ve never once had to pretend when it comes to Alex.
Forty-Four
December
The bitter winter air stings my cheeks and I rub my palms together to stay warm. The wind chill has got to be in the single digits. Sitting out in the freezing cold people watching is arguably crazy by most standards, but the past couple of months I’ve found it to be incredibly soothing. There’s something magical about coming downtown to people watch at Christmastime. Everyone in the vicinity of the city’s Christmas tree has a little more patience and exhibits more kindness than usual. It makes me believe in humanity again. Simply stated, hope is in the air.
And hope is something I could use a little more of these days.
After Simon’s grand exit from my life, I’ve come to realize just how little we know about those we allow in.