by Abbi Glines
“Mary Grace,” I said her name for the first time without feeling any pain, regret, or longing.
“Hello, Marty.” She no longer sounded like an angel. She was just a girl. One I had loved once. One that had taught me about heartbreak.
I shifted, not sure what to do about her standing in front of me or why she was here. I waited for an explanation. She stood there and said nothing.
Mack walked further into the apartment watching me like he wasn’t sure how I would react.
“Why are you here?” I finally asked.
She flinched from the bluntness in my question. I had wanted to ask how the hell she had found me, but refrained from being that rude.
“I’m sorry, I should have called, I wanted to see you.”
I frowned. “Yes you should have called.”
She gave me a sad, apologetic smile. In the past, that smile had the ability to make me agree to anything. Now it did nothing. It was like I’d been released after realizing there was no way she could hurt me again.
“I . . . miss you. I was going to call. Then I thought showing up here so we could talk face to face would be easier. Better. I could explain myself this way.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that exactly. I wasn’t in need of any explanation from her. She’d wasted a trip. I saw her eyes grow wide with surprise as her gaze moved from me to the hallway behind me. Already knowing who Mary Grace saw behind me, I turned quickly and met Fiona’s.
The past week Fiona had been sleeping here at night. Mack always got home long after we went to bed so it was easier to stay here than her place. Chantel was loud and chatty and around too much for us to hang out at her place.
“Unexpected company,” I explained, moving toward her. The unsure look in her eyes worried me. After our night at the barbecue place three weeks ago we had grown closer. And the sex was so incredible neither of us were ever sated. She walked toward me dressed in a pair of blue pajama pants and one of my tee shirts. Her hair was messy from sleep and the shower sex we’d had before bed. She was stunning.
I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close to me. I whispered, “The past is here to talk. It’s been over a year since I’ve seen her. I didn’t invite her and I don’t want her here.”
Fiona peeked over my shoulder at Mary Grace. She nodded and gazed up at me. “Okay.”
Her response was simple. No drama. I wanted her to feel like she could ask me questions. Demand answers. But Fiona wasn’t like that.
I kissed her lips and her nose before turning back to face Mary Grace. “It’s not a good time. I have to get ready for work. Showing up like this and expecting things to be the same with me was a mistake. My evening is already booked. You need to go on back to wherever you came from.”
Mary Grace looked like I had slapped her hard. The eyes I once adored filled with unshed tears. “Don’t push me away. I know I hurt you. But Marty, I love you. Our kind of love doesn’t go away. There . . . there are things I need to tell you.”
The way she had thrown the word love around pissed me off. She’d done it to make sure Fiona knew what our past was and to remind me of it. There was no power in that memory.
“Yes, it does go away. People move on and they change. You changed. You fell in love with someone else easily enough. Coming here and making a scene is wrong. You are interfering in my life when I left you alone and let you live yours. Please do the same for me now.” I was annoyed. My voice made that much obvious.
Fiona moved to pull away from my arms and I looked down at her to see pain in her eyes. I wasn’t sure what was said that caused her pain. I didn’t want Mary Grace. My feelings for her were long since forgotten.
“What’s wrong?” I asked Fiona wanting to reassure her and clear up whatever was bothering her.
She shook her head and gave me a forced smile before pulling free of me. “Nothing. I’ll wait in your room while you deal with this.” Then she was gone, walking back into my bedroom and closing the door firmly behind her.
I didn’t give Mary Grace much attention as I said, “We’ve said everything that needs to be said. Mack will see you out.” I turned on my heel and followed Fiona into my room closing them out.
Fiona was sitting on the edge of the bed looking so upset I began to panic.
“Tell me what’s wrong.” I went to her and kneeled to face her.
She sighed and gave a slight shrug. “It’s nothing. I mean you didn’t do anything. I just . . . I wasn’t . . .” she stopped and sighed loudly again. “Ugh,” she said rubbing her face with both hands. I reached up and took her hands, kissing both her palms, then held them in mine.
“Tell me,” I urged.
She sniffed and closed her eyes a moment before opening them to look at me. “I’ve never been in love.” She sighed again. “You have.”
I wasn’t sure how this was upsetting her. We hadn’t talked about past relationships. We were so busy with ours that conversation had never surfaced.
“I’m jealous, Marty.”
“Of me?” I asked her trying to understand.
“No, and yes. I’m jealous that you loved someone. I’m jealous that someone had your love. It’s silly and stupid. Most people have been in love by now. I shouldn’t expect you not to have loved anyone else. But I just. . don’t like that I’ve seen it know. Knowing it.”
She stopped talking and dropped her gaze to our hands. I held hers tightly as if I was holding onto her to prevent her from taking flight. She wasn’t leaving me. Her words slowly made sense and I understood. This wasn’t the time or the place. It wasn’t even remotely close to what I had envisioned because I had thought about how I would tell her I loved her. None of that mattered now because it was time.
I didn’t like her feeling less than.
I released her hands and slipped a knuckle under her chin, lifting until her eyes met mine. My thumb brushed her bottom lip. I saw her struggling not to frown while attempting to smile.
“I loved Mary Grace when I was a boy. She was the first girl I cared for. She was different. When she left me, I thought I’d never get over her. But then I met you. And Fiona,” I cupped her face in both my hands, “You lit up my world in a way I didn’t know was possible. You owned me before I thought it was possible. I fell in love with you over cookies that I couldn’t even bite into. You’re my perfect match. And although you’ve never been in love, you are loved. You’re the most important person in my world.”
She blinked a couple times. A single tear appeared along with a smile. A real one. The kind that reached her eyes. “I do love you. I don’t want to. I’m terrified of it. But I do. I love you so much. Until I saw her out there I had been able to deny it. I pretended I was confusing what we had with love. But seeing her and knowing you loved her once. The reality of it slammed into my chest and the knowledge that I loved you about sent me to my knees. I had to walk away . . . Sit down and find some way to act as if you hadn’t just changed my hope.”
I stood up and placed both hands on her shoulders. With a soft nudge, I laid her back on the bed and crawled over the top of her. “You love me?” I asked needing to hear it again.
“Yes.” The anticipation was in her voice.
“I’m going to take these baggy ass pajama bottoms off you and burry my head between the sweetest damn legs I’ve ever known. And while I taste you and lick you until you come on my tongue I want to hear you say you love me.” This territorial caveman in me was new. But Fiona brought it out in me. Hearing her tell me she loved me while I got her off felt powerful and good. It excited me.
She lifted her hips and I jerked her pants down to find her naked underneath like I expected. I held her gaze as I lowered my head. My mouth slowly made its way to the dampness already there. Trailing my tongue through the tender skin I savored her taste, licking my lips. The moan that escaped me was loud and low.
Fiona grabbed my hair and pushed me back to continue. I began fucking her with my tongue while her hips lifted to
meet me.
“I love you!” she cried out “Oh God! I love you so much!”
Linking my arms around her legs I jerked her up against my mouth so that she covered my face. I lost myself in her cries of pleasure as she orgasmed hard, exploding in my arms.
Fiona
LOVING MARTY WAS THE EASY part. Fighting my fears and insecurities was the hard part.
Marty was patient with me. He didn’t get annoyed with my warped view on relationships. Opening up to him about my parents had helped him understand why I didn’t understand falling in love. When he thought I was unsure about something he went out of his way to reassure me.
Which made the fact I was currently going through his private things wrong. It wasn’t like I intentionally walked in here to snoop. Marty had gone to work this morning and he didn’t wake me when he left. The apartment was empty and quiet. Marty had left a mess last night after cooking dinner because we were distracted for hours afterward. I wanted to throw on one of Marty’s tee shirts to clean the kitchen.
Smiling at the memories of last night, I stepped into his closet naked and relaxed. Marty hung all of his clothes. Even his tee shirts. I’d teased him about his organized closet. It was color coordinated as well as separated between casual and dress clothing. I envied his ability to keep everything so neat.
Walking over to the tee shirts, my toe kicked something under the pants that hung on the bottom rack. I bent down to fix whatever I had messed up in his orderly space. It was a shoebox. The photo of his ex-girlfriend was lying on the floor by the lid I had kicked off. Putting it back and closing the shoebox was what I should do. What a nice person would do. But I didn’t do what I should have done.
Instead, I sat down on the floor of his closet and pulled the shoebox toward me. Staring down at it I saw movie ticket stubs A napkin that appeared to have lipstick on it. Some photos. A few letters. And a small gold ring with a tiny diamond in it. Or what looked like a diamond. I reached into the box and picked up the photos. There were several of them in photo booths kissing, making silly faces, and smiling with their arms wrapped around each other.
She had worn a pink dress to their prom. She looked like an angel with her pale blonde hair floating in waves down her shoulders while she smiled adoringly up at Marty who wore a tux. My chest clenched with each memory he had saved. I wanted to open the first letter but couldn’t. Not because it was an invasion of his privacy which should have been why I didn’t read them, but because I was afraid. Knowing he had loved before me was difficult. I had only loved Marty. There were guys before him, but none of them were important enough that I saved memory boxes from my time with them hidden in my closet.
If Marty no longer cared for Mary Grace then why did he keep these things? Was he honest with me about being over her? Why would he need to have these hidden? Why would he keep these things at all? Did he take the box out and look at the items? Were these memories he cherished?
Was I enough? Could I ever compete with her in his heart? I sat there staring at the box longer than I should have. When I finally put the lid back on the box and tucked it away like he had stored it, I stood. Walked out of the closet, I found the clothing I had taken off last night and dressed myself.
Walking past the kitchen, I found Marty had already cleaned up our mess from last night. I’d told him I would do it this morning, but he had done it anyway. I kept walking until I was out the door, locking it behind me. I went to my apartment where I didn’t have boxes of memories hidden.
Being angry with him seemed silly, but then it also felt like he had lied to me. If he was truly over Mary Grace, then why did he keep the box? Furthermore, why didn’t he hide it from me?
I could hear music coming from the living room. Chantel was doing her morning workout. I normally slept through this. Today, I decided I’d go for a run. Hoping she hadn’t heard me come in I made my way to my bedroom to get changed into my running shorts and tank. Pounding the pavement and getting outside would help. Pushing until I thought I couldn’t go another step had always helped me exhaust my errant thoughts. And I needed that more than anything now.
Going through someone else’s things never led to anything good. I knew better, but if I hadn’t snooped I wouldn’t have known how Marty felt. And what was with the ring? Had he proposed to her? They had been so young. We still were. Was he keeping the ring in case one day they got back together? Was I only the girl to make her jealous? To make her wish she’d never left him? Had I been so needy for love that I’d missed the signs that I was the rebound? Oh God. I was a rebound.
I pressed my hand on my chest and inhaled deeply. The sharp pain was unlike anything I’d felt. Why hadn’t I seen it? I sank down onto my bed staring at the wall. I gasped for the breaths I was having a hard time taking. He hadn’t been with anyone since Mary Grace. There was no time to get over her. The way he had sent her away when she’d shown up at his apartment and told me he loved me, it had been perfect. He had said beautiful things. Made me feel like the only thing in his world.
But that shoebox said more than any words could.
“I didn’t hear you come in.” Chantel stood in my bedroom doorway, slightly out of breath.
I couldn’t look at her. I was too busy trying to keep from falling apart.
“You okay?” she asked.
Was I? I didn’t think so. I couldn’t answer her.
“Fiona?” She moved toward me. “What’s wrong?”
How did I explain this? Saying it made it more real. It wasn’t my imagination after that. If I didn’t say it then it wasn’t out there. Right?
“Either you speak now or I’m calling Marty,” she threatened. “You look like you’re going to be sick or burst into tears.”
I didn’t want her calling Marty. I wasn’t sure I could face him. Did I shut him out? Act like we never happened? Should I tell him I’d dug through his memories of Mary Grace, demanding he explain them if he no longer loved her?
Dropping my head into my hands I managed to said, “Don’t call Marty.” Because I was sure talking to him was not something I wanted to do. Not yet. I needed time. I should run. I just couldn’t stand up.
“Then talk. Tell me what’s wrong.” Chantel sat down beside me. The mattress sank slightly from her weight. I could feel her there but I couldn’t look at her. “Did y’all break up? Because I find it hard to believe he’d be at work right now and not banging on that door if you’d broken up.”
We weren’t broken up, but is that where we’re headed? Was this the end? Did I want that?
“No.” My voice cracked.
“Ohmygod! Are you pregnant?” Chantel sounded horrified as she said it.
Lifting my head, I stared at her now. The ridiculous question was the beginning of more questions. I had to shut her up. “No,” I snapped. “Of course not.”
“Then why are you pale and appear to be on the verge of tears or some kind of break down?”
Taking a deep breath, I steadied myself and closed my eyes tightly before forcing out the words. “Marty has a memory box with things he saved as keepsakes from his time with Mary Grace.” The words were rushed as I blurted them out. I hated how it sounded.
“Did he show it to you?” Chantel asked sounding confused.
I shook my head. He definitely hadn’t shown it to me.
“Okay, then how do you know he has this box? Oh, jeez, Fiona, did you go snooping through his shit? That is a terrible idea.”
“I didn’t go snooping!” I replied defensively. “I found it accidentally.
Chantel cocked one eyebrow. “Really? Where was he keeping it? On his dresser?”
Frowning I shook my head. “No, in his closet.”
“That’s called snooping.”
I didn’t need a lesson on relationships from Chantel. She had no experience with anything real. Her last serious relationship, Kel, was a married man. “I was getting a shirt from his closet and kicked it over not seeing it.”
Chantel didn’t
look convinced. “It’s memories from his high school years. You’re worked up about something stupid.”
Was it? I didn’t think so. “He was hiding it. That means something.”
Chantel stood up and put her hands on her hips. “Or he put it there months ago when he moved in and forgot about it. Because it’s not important. He’s been too busy with working, cooking for you, fucking you, and all that romantic shit and he forgot about the stupid box in his closet.”
When she said it like that, it made sense. Maybe he had forgotten it was there. If that was the case, the box wasn’t important. Although there was a ring in there. I couldn’t ask him about it because he’d known I went through it. But did I believe Chantel was right?
“I’m going for a run,” I stood and walked back to my closet to change. There were no hidden boxes in my closet. I wasn’t hiding anything from him or anyone.
“You’re screwed up about relationships. In your head, it can’t work. Stop looking for something to end it. You’re happy, Fiona. Accept that. Embrace it. That box is something he forgot exists. When he remembers, he’ll get rid of it.”
She was right about me being screwed up. Was I trying to find reasons to sabotage us? Was I that broken?
Marty
WALKING OUT OF THE STATION, the last person I expected to find standing there was Chantel. I stopped and stared a moment to make sure it was Chantel. She shoved away from her red sporty BMW that she’d been leaning on and walked toward me. It was more of a saunter. Fiona did it too. The catwalk strut must be something that becomes a habit after time.
“Hello, Marty.” She lifted the sunglasses she had perched on her nose.
“Is Fiona okay?” I asked not able to think of any other reason she would be here.
She lifted a shoulder slightly. “She’s not headed to the hospital or anything like that, but she’s not okay either.”