by Kristy Love
Everything was so fucked up and I had no idea what to do. My life was in shambles.
I cried into my pillow, the sobs breaking free and my heart broken.
I ALLOWED MYSELF two hours, exactly. I cried over Robert and how he lied to me for so long. I cried because he lied to himself. I cried because I still loved him, even after he shattered my heart.
Two hours. That’s how long I allowed myself to grieve for the life I had before.
Then I picked myself up, washed the smeared makeup off my face and threw away Robert’s favorite dress. I went through my room and removed every single reminder of him. The pictures I had taped to my mirror, the stuffed penguin he won for me at a fair this past summer, the T-shirt he gave me to sleep in when I missed him the most. Everything was piled up and put in a black trash bag. It didn’t matter if it was a picture, clothing, or a gift.
I wished I’d kept the ring so I could add it to the pile.
When the bag was full, I stood back and surveyed my room, searching for anything I missed. My room appeared completely Robert free, though most of my drawers were emptied onto the floor and my closet was strewn across my bed.
I’d clean the mess up later.
I unlocked and opened my bedroom door, dragging the bag behind me. It thunked on the stairs as I descended.
“Roxie?” my mom called from the kitchen. She rounded the corner, saw me in my sweatpants and T-shirt and her eyebrows shot up. “What’s wrong, honey? What happened with Robert?” Her eyes caught on my naked ring finger on my left hand. “Roxie, honey. What’s going on?”
I walked down and stopped right in front of her. “Robert is dead to me. I don’t want to hear his name. I don’t want to think about him. He’s gone.”
“What happened?” Her eyes darted down to the bag and back up to my face, clearly concerned.
“He was cheating on me. The entire time he was up at college. I walked in on him . . . in the middle of cheating on me.” I didn’t want to tell my mom all the details. I didn’t want her to know he was with a man. I felt inadequate enough as it was.
Fuck him for making me feel inadequate for so many years.
“Oh, Roxie.” My mom pulled me into her arms. I clenched my jaw, keeping myself from crying.
Robert would not get another tear from me. Ever. I’d given him enough.
“It’s okay. But it’s over. I don’t want to think about him or see him again, okay?”
“Understandable, honey. It’s good you found this out now instead of later.”
I nodded. It was good. I didn’t want to waste any more time on him than I already had. “I found out. That’s all that matters.”
“What are you doing with that bag?” she asked as I dragged the garbage bag behind me toward the backyard.
“Getting rid of his shit.”
“Roxie, don’t do anything rash.”
I kept walking, dragging the sack of lies. When I was in the backyard, I pulled the portable fire pit over and looked it over. No, I’d need something bigger. My dad kept an old oil drum in the backyard to put some tools or whatever in. I went over to it, peered inside. It was only about half full of wood and sawdust.
Perfect.
I opened the bag and pulled out first the giant stuffed bear and then the dress Robert loved on me. The air reeked when I doused them in lighter fluid. I struck a long match from the grill and tossed it in. Everything went up in flames. A sick satisfaction coursed through me.
Piece by piece, I threw in everything. Pictures, clothing, memories. The last thing to go was the T-shirt he’d given me years ago. I’d slept in this shirt every night for years. Anytime he was over, I made him wear it around the house so it would collect his scent again. I held it out, looking down at it. It was a dusty green color and had a picture of The Beatles on it with the band name written in big, blocky letters. I never understood why Robert would have this shirt. He wasn’t even a fan of The Beatles.
Apparently, he was well versed in lying.
I threw the shirt in and it immediately fed the blaze.
It was over. My life with Robert was officially erased.
The walls went up around my heart as the fire faded to embers.
I’d never believe in love again.
I CAME HOME from school and threw my book bag against the closet door in the entry way. I felt as if I’d shed fifty pounds today. I officially dropped all my classes and withdrew for the semester. I talked my parents into it a few days ago. I told them I was wasting my time and their money. There was nothing that intrigued me and I needed at least a semester off. My heart wasn’t in it.
Of course, my dad made sure to point out that I was only a month and a half into my first semester of my sophomore year and I had no idea what I wanted or needed. I let him know I was an adult and I knew damn well what I wanted.
I was done being what other people wanted me to be. It was time to make me happy. I was wasting no more time. It’d been a week and a half since everything happened with Robert. Since then, I’d been getting my life in order. Completely erasing Robert from my life and taking charge of my own destiny. I wanted to chase my dreams. Not anyone else’s dreams for me.
I just had to figure out what my dreams were.
I heard a sniffle from the kitchen. I sighed, knowing I was about to walk into a bad situation. My dad had been on a tear the night before and who knew what happened when I left to officially drop out of college.
My mom was in the kitchen scrubbing the counter fiercely. She had tears falling down her face and dropping onto the counter, which she promptly wiped away. Her cheek was slightly red and swollen.
Fuck. It was bad
“Mom,” I said. My mom jumped and dropped the rag, then looked up at me with hollow eyes. “Stop. Sit down and let me get you some ice.” She nodded and took a seat. I went to the freezer and grabbed an ice pack, then wrapped it in a towel. When I pressed it against her cheek, she winced. “What happened?”
“Your father came home for lunch and wasn’t happy that there were crumbs on the counter.” She sniffled. “I was making him a sandwich and must have gotten some on the counter accidentally.”
“Oh, Mom. I’m sorry.” I hated my father. My heart was constantly hardening against him. I didn’t understand why he was the way he was.
I really didn’t understand why my mom stayed.
Yet another example of why love wasn’t worth it.
After several moments, my mom calmed down. “Mom, you know this isn’t right, don’t you?”
“He loves us, honey.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
“How can he love us when he hurts you? When he cuts his own daughter out of his life?” I really wished my mom understood that this wasn’t love, but she never would. She was weak.
I hated that she was weak.
“He loves us, Roxie,” my mom said, her voice stern.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I responded. I didn’t want to upset her more than she already was. I felt bad that this was our life. That we had been reduced to that family.
How many more clichés could we fulfill?
“How’d it go at school today?” she asked.
“Fine. They told me I could come back at any time. I think at least a semester off would be good for me. I need to figure out what I want to do with my life, you know? I was basing everything off my future with Robert and that’s obviously not happening anymore.”
“I heard something,” my mom whispered as though there was someone else home who could hear us. “His parents found out what he did to you and kicked him out. He’s back up at college. They’re still paying for him to finish school, but they’re upset.”
For a moment, my heart hurt for Robert. Then I remembered what he did to me and I added another layer around my heart. “That’s unfortunate for him.”
“Don’t you think you can ever forgive him? You were so good together.”
“Trust me, Mom, we can never work it out.” My mom frowned, clearly no
t happy with my answer. “I’m going out with Harper tonight. I might stay over at her place.”
“Okay, just be safe, sweetheart.”
“I always am.” I hugged her and ran up the stairs to my room.
A Few Days Later
HARPER TEXTED AND asked if I wanted to hang out with her tonight. I suggested she come over and we’d watch a movie or something. We were in my room, hanging out and talking. She was the only person I told the whole story to. I didn’t tell her how inadequate all of this made me feel, as though I wasn’t good enough for Robert. Somewhere, deep down, I knew it had nothing to do with me, but I had trouble separating myself from Robert being gay. We’d been together for a long time. I loved him. It was hard not to consider that I turned him gay.
I wasn’t ready to verbalize these thoughts.
My phone rang for the tenth time today. Checking the display, I saw that Robert was calling again. I rolled my eyes.
“You should answer it,” Harper said.
“I don’t want to talk to him.” I’d been avoiding his calls for three days. Three long days. Didn’t he realize I was trying to forget him, to move on? Harper stared at me, urging me to answer it and put this to rest. So I did. Only because I wanted to tell him to leave me the fuck alone. “What do you want, Robert?”
“I want you to understand why I did what I did.” He sounded relieved, probably because I finally picked up.
“Then explain it to me and hang up. This is for you, Robert, not for me.”
“Okay. I feel I should tell you that I’ve wondered what was going on for a long time. I’ve felt . . . different.”
“You were in denial.”
“I was. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I dragged you down with me.” He let out a long, slow breath as though he’d been waiting to say those words. Maybe they made him feel better.
They didn’t make me feel better.
“I can’t change how I feel,” I stated. It was true. I felt lied to, betrayed, and heartbroken. “You lied to me for over a year, Robert. You were sleeping with someone else, a man, for over a year. I can’t get over that.”
“I’m not asking you to. I want to stay friends with you, though.”
My eyes widened as I looked at Harper. Friends? No way in hell. “I can’t do that.”
“Oh . . .” He sounded defeated. For some reason, that made me angry.
“I loved you a lot. I was prepared to marry you. You hurt me a lot. It would have been one thing if I’d known . . .” But the truth was, our entire relationship was full of red flags. The way our relationship felt more platonic. It was missing something. He never grabbed me and kissed me passionately. He was perfectly fine to have me at arms’ length, just holding my hand. I got more kisses on the cheek than kisses on the lips.
And sex . . . After a year and a half, I felt I was constantly begging him to do it. He put me off for as long as he could, but eventually he gave in. Any time we did have sex, it was lackluster. Probably because Robert acted like it was a chore, like he’d rather be anywhere else. And I was constantly in search of an orgasm, as embarrassing as it sounds. Robert wanted it to be over as quickly as he could and it didn’t matter to him whether it was good for both of us.
He was a selfish, lying bastard.
“I didn’t mean to break you, Roxie.”
My spine stiffened. “You didn’t break me.”
“I broke your heart.”
“No, you made me smart. I realized that everyone lies. Did you say everything you wanted to say? Is your conscience clear?”
“Roxie . . .” he started. I didn’t want to hear any more. He’d hurt me enough and I was done. That part of my life was over. Anger swirled inside of me, making me want to let loose all the things I wanted to say to him. But that would be going too far.
“Have a nice life, Robert.” I hung up the phone and rolled my eyes, looking at Harper. “Let’s go out.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“Anywhere. Let’s just go have fun.”
Harper got off my bed and went to my closet to sort through my dresses. “I’ll have to borrow something from you.”
“I know.” Even though I was shorter and curvier than Harper, she somehow filled out my clothes well. Probably because she was taller. In a lot of ways, she was the opposite of me. I was short, she was tall. I was curvy with a generous helping of hips and boobs, she was thinner. I had pale skin and strawberry hair, she had dark skin and dark hair.
“I love this one.” She pulled out a new dress. How had it survived The Robert Purge? It was a purple mini dress that he purchased for me a few months ago. He’d picked it out and had given it to me for no other reason than he was thinking about me. I rolled my eyes at the memory. I buried it in my closet because I hated purple. It was my sister’s favorite color and it always made me sad to see it.
“You can have it.”
Her eyes widened and found mine. “This dress was eighty dollars.”
“I don’t want it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Harper. Please take it.”
She looked down at the dress and smiled. “I love it.”
I didn’t want to see it anymore. Maybe it’d be different on her body. It’d cleanse the Robert memories away. She took her shirt off and flung it on the bed and then slid out of her jeans before slipping into the dress. It hugged her perfectly and complimented her skin. “You look amazing, Harper.”
She twisted so she could see her back in the mirror, a satisfied smile curling her lips. “It’s gorgeous.”
I went over to my closet and pulled out the black dress I wanted before bending over to locate my strappy sandals buried somewhere in the mess at the bottom. After several minutes of digging around the debris, I emerged with a pair of black heels. “Here, Harper. These shoes are too big for my feet, so they’ll be perfect for you. Take them, too.”
“Your generosity is showing, Roxie,” she said, smiling at me.
“They were a gift from my dad. Why he bought me shoes, I’ll never know.” I shook my head. “I’m not always a cold-hearted bitch, you know.”
Harper laughed, hard. “Oh, Roxie. You’re the opposite of a cold-hearted bitch.”
I slipped out of my clothes and pulled on my dress and shoes. Then we crowded around my small mirror and touched up our makeup before calling out good-byes and leaving.
After trying to figure out where to go, we decided on a new club downtown named Amped. Anyone was allowed in, but if you were under twenty-one you got a bracelet that let the bartenders know you couldn’t have alcohol. It sucked that we couldn’t get served, but really, I just wanted to dance.
I could get lost for hours letting the beat overtake the movement of my body. It was exactly what I needed after the shitty several days I had.
Once we arrived at Amped, the bouncer snapped on our green bracelets and we made a beeline for the dance floor. Harper was just like me, loving the feel of dancing like this. Something about the way everyone moved to the music and the way everyone moved as separate parts of a whole. I loved it.
My hips swayed to the beat, my hands thrown overhead. Harper spun around a few times before moving her body in her own way to the music. I smiled at her and she winked.
I closed my eyes, really letting everything else take over. I lost track of time. The only way I knew time passed was changing tempo of the songs. A hand tapped my shoulder from behind. I opened my eyes and turned around.
An incredibly sexy man had moved up behind me. His eyes roved up and down my body as though he appreciated the view. The song he interrupted ended and a new song began, this one slow and sexy. By the time his eyes met mine, there was definite hunger in them.
“You looked like you could use a drink.” He smirked, his full lips curving. He held out a bottle of water.
“Don’t you know they warn girls against taking a drink from a strange man?”
“That’s why it’s a bottle of water. The seal’s unbroken.
I promise it’s safe.” His voice was gruff, almost too deep. The sultry notes of the song weren’t overly loud, yet he leaned in close to talk in my ear. His chest pressed against my arm. Why was that so sexy?
I took the water, gave it a hard twist to detach the cap, and took a generous drink. “Thank you.”
“I’d like to buy you a real drink.” I held up my arm, showing my green bracelet. “I can still buy you a drink.” The way he smiled at me was delicious. I wanted to kiss the smile off his face.
“Sure.” I looked over my shoulder to catch Harper’s eye. She smiled, letting me know it was okay. The guy took my hand and walked me through the crowded room toward the bar. His eyes swept down my body again before he ordered two drinks from the bartender. I couldn’t hear him over the music and chatter of conversation at the bar, but when the drinks were ready, he handed me a glass. He leaned a hip against the solid bar top. Seated in a stool beside him, my hip was the right height for him to plant his palm.
“A martini?” I took a cautious sip. I made sure my green bracelet was hidden from the bartender.
His eyes slid down my body again. “You seem like a martini girl.”
I smirked. I’d never had a martini, though it was good. “What makes me seem like a martini girl?”
“Those heels.” His eyes lingered on my feet and my stomach twisted in a funny way. It wasn’t painful or a bad sensation.
“What’s your name?”
He leaned closer, his lips brushing my ear. “Kurt.” Even though he whispered, his voice was clearer than the thumping music.
“Hi, Kurt.”
“What’s your name, gorgeous?” Someone bumped into him and pushed his body closer to mine. The contact caused goosebumps to erupt.
“Roxie.”
He smiled and took a sip of his drink. “Feisty name.”
I was pressed close to him. He had on a cologne that smelled amazing. His fingers moved in circles around my hip.