by Rana Raynes
Honestly, fuck him.
About an hour before I have to leave the doorbell rings and when I open the door for a moment pretty much all I see is a huge flower bouquet. It's beautiful and I know at once this time it isn't from Mike. The bouquet isn't the usual two dozen red roses but bright and cheerful and personal somehow, and the person who hands it to me isn't a professional courier but a dark-haired boy of high school age.
I tip him generously before I take the enclosed card from the bouquet and open it. My heart beat accelerates in anticipation. The flowers are from Jay. My eyes fly over the lines.
“Dearest Kat,” I read. “I hope it's okay to send you this...”
What follows is explanation, apology, declaration of love, not overly eloquent but it feels truthful. It feels like everything I could have asked for and an affectionate warmth is rising up inside me. I won't suppress my affection for him anymore but welcome it, enjoy it, wallow in it if I can.
It's the last nudge towards my decision: I will talk to Jay and I will ask him to try again. I immediately know it's the right thing to do. The knot in my stomach dissolves at once. For the first time in days I'm relaxed and confident.
I still feel all warm and fuzzy when I arrive at the Ace an hour later. I've spotted Mike's rental in the parking lot, so I know he's already there when I enter. It's early, the place is only moderately crowded, and I see him at once, sitting at a table, a glass of whisky in front of him, playing with his phone.
It's a familiar picture to see him like this. He used to stare into his phone a lot, over dinner, on Friday nights and Sunday afternoons, at some point it got the equivalent of reading the newspaper or a book, almost a scene of domestic bliss. It's a weird 'almost' of course.
Now I'm glad I can walk past him unnoticed to get myself a drink at the bar and use the opportunity to brief Amber who already looks at me with a question mark all over her face.
“I'm going to properly break up with him,” I explain while Amber mixes me a very light Gin & Tonic. “Wish me luck.”
“Good luck,” Amber says as she passes me the drink. “I guess you'd like to know – Jay is here. I didn't expect you to drop in. If I had known, I would have told him not to come here tonight.”
The info is like a punch to the stomach. For a split second I am stunned, nervousness is tying my guts into knots. “Thanks for the warning,” I say. “In case you get the chance, maybe you can tell him why I'm here with Mike? I don't want him to get the wrong impression about this.”
Amber sets down my drink in front of me. “Sure. I'll tell him first chance I get.”
“Thank you.” I look into Mike's direction and take a deep breath. I hope this will be over soon, and without any uncalled for drama.
Mike gets up when he sees me coming and I'm quick to hug him so he has no chance to kiss me in on the mouth, which isn't a far fetched assumption, given how directly addresses me with a pet name. I shouldn't be surprised he'd call me 'darling' without realizing how inappropriate it is but somehow I am. I'm about to complain about it but Mike is too fast for me.
He doesn't ask me how I am, which, given the state I was in when he drove me home after our lunch and the meeting with Jay, should be the obvious move, but instead he comes straight to the point.
“I'm so glad you reconsidered,” he says and whatever I expected, it's not this blatant focus on his own interests in face, or rather in complete denial, of our history. “I knew you'd come to your senses, Kat. It would be such a pity, throwing away all those years. I mean we used to be so happy and everything was going so well...”
I can't believe he's doing this without the smallest of preludes. He didn't bother to check up on my feelings first, not even on how my day was. The fact I was asking to meet here is enough for him to assume I want to get back together again. I feel obliged to state the obvious to establish the ground of the conversation we're going to have.
“Even if I agreed with that assessment of our relationship, and I don't – you didn't forget it wasn't me who had the affair, right?” I say, slightly stunned.
Mike is quick to change course. “No, no, of course not,” he assures me. “I am very sorry that happened, you know I am, don't you? It was a mistake, an unfortunate lapse of judgement.” He tries to reach for my hand but I've anticipated the move and withdraw my hand just in time. There is an infinitesimal shift in Mike's expression but I know him well enough to notice it. There's a storm gathering. And sure enough, what he says next affirms my suspicion.
“But you know, perhaps I would not have been tempted if you had been around more.”
Here we go. It's amazing how you can flip a switch and go from calm to enraged within a split second. It takes a lot of self-control not to shout at him right away. I'm so angry I have difficulties breathing.
“What do you mean, if I had been around more?”
Mike doesn't look as if he is about to back down. “You were always working and...”
I cock my head. It's unbelievable he would have the audacity to blame me for being unavailable because I was earning our living. But then it occurs to me that it's not only an old but also an inaccurate argument. I had stopped working for quite some time before I found out about the affair.
“You are aware I hadn't been working for more than nine months at the time we broke up? Months that I spent cooking dinner and waiting for you to come home while you were having important meetings and business dinners and so on...” While I say it out loud it dawns on me what that implies. I watch him closely and I can see he is racking his brain for an excuse. But I will be damned if I give him the time to come up with something.
“So how long had this affair been going on?” I ask.
For a second the answer is written all over his face. He's a terrible liar sometimes, his facial expression can be pretty telling. But that doesn't mean he's going to admit guilt; admitting he was wrong was never Mike's strong suit.
Instead he switches to defence mode. “I was frustrated, you left me high and dry, what was I supposed to do?”
I'm a little bit speechless at first. Is he actually trying make me responsible for his unfaithfulness? If it wasn't so sad, I'd laugh about it. I take a deep breath, focussing on my adult super powers. I won't show him how angry I am but I won't go down the usual road and accept the blame either.
“So here is what I don't get,” I say. “If you were so unhappy in our relationship, why would you want to rekindle it? To me this sounds as if you thought it was essentially over between us, and that was the reason you felt justified to look elsewhere for fulfilment of your needs. Or otherwise expressed, as if you believed we weren't good for each other after all and frankly, you don't have to convince me on this.”
Now it's Mike's turn to be speechless and I use the chance to make my point:
“Look, I had a lot of time to think about this over the last months and we've strayed quite far from the path we started off on. When we met we both wanted careers in law and over the years you got your career while I'm not one step closer to that goal...”
“Are you blaming me for that?” Mike says, visibly offended.
I can't suppress a shrill little laugh. So much for controlling my emotions.
“It's not as if I had any reason, right?” I can't help the sarcasm. It's either that or punching him in the face. “After all it was you who got to get to school and graduate.”
“You remember we did take the decision together...”
“Because I was actually earning some money at the time and you didn't...”
“Yes but–”
I clutch my drink harder and take another deep breath.
“Look, Mike, I don't think we've got to break down where what went wrong exactly. The result of that decision seems pretty obvious to me: I financed your living expenses while you were going to school and the deal was to reciprocate the favour once you had a job. But you put that off, again and again, with a lot of flimsy excuses. I guess at the time I wanted to bu
y into them for the sake of our relationship.” Mike wants to interrupt me but I won't let him.
“When I learned you were having an affair I realized what the underlying issue was and always had been: you're only thinking about yourself, your needs, your rules, everything always has to be about you.”
“That's really not fair,” Mike says. “I mean, I paid for the apartment and the car and all your clothes after you quit working.”
“But it was you who thought we needed a larger, more expensive apartment, and you who thought I should wear all those fancy dresses. You made me a prop in your life. And for the record I stopped working because you said I was only earning peanuts anyway and you didn't want your fancy lawyer friends to run into me by accident.”
Mike pretends to be taken by complete surprise, as if he heard all of this for the very first time and the fact that the lavish new lifestyle was his choice was actual news to him. Maybe it is? But it's so obvious to me now that I have difficulties understanding how it didn't dawn on him eventually how selfish he had been. Hasn't he mulled over the reasons our relationship had failed during the last months? Doesn't he realize the affair was only the tip of the iceberg?
Mike frowns, perhaps more puzzled than offended. “You could have said something...”
I sigh. It's not as if I didn't communicate with him but probably not as clearly as would have been necessary. In many cases I myself only understood in retrospect how many things I denied myself for Mike's benefit.
“I guess I could have been more vocal about what I wanted, I shouldn't have given in all the time,” I admit. “I did talk about getting back to school though and you wanted to put it off until we had saved a little more money, do you remember?”
Contrary to his declared intentions Mike had not been too economical with his income, he had spent a lot of it on what I would have called luxury items at the time but... maybe that wasn't it? Now that I look at him with a little distance I think, maybe it was just nest building. But wouldn't that have been the wrong way around? He could not have thought we'd settle down and start a family before I went to school and found a job, could he?
Piece by piece the picture clicks into place. I remember he had mentioned family life more and more often during the last months. But for me it had sounded like an affirmation of our plans to stay together, not like preparing for this step, not with him being constantly absent and me years away from my dream job.
“You didn't think I'd just skip school and career to have babies and stay home to raise them?”
Nothing against family life. I love children, and I hope I'll have a couple one day. But not now, not before going to school and getting my education. It has been my dream to become a lawyer since I was a little girl. I want to make a difference. And Mike should know that. It's not something you forget.
Though by all appearances he has.
“But you wouldn't have had to work, darling!” Mike looks at me blankly. “You contributed enough.”
I begin to wonder who this person is with whom I had a relationship over the last years. He appears more and more like a complete stranger.
“But that was never the deal!” I have a hard time keeping the exasperation out of my voice. “The deal was we'd swap roles once you had a job.”
“I thought you felt obliged–”
“Obliged to contribute? Or to follow in your foot steps and become a lawyer?”
“Look, Katherine.” He holds up his hands to indicate defeat. “I didn't come here to argue. I thought you were happy with me, apart from a few minor issues, and we could make it work again. But I see now that I was wrong and that you were ready to leave before the thing with Emily happened. You were about to leave me for months and I must have felt it, the constant arguments, your coldness, the deprivation of intimacy...”
“So that's your explanation? That it was all my fault anyway? Your affair? That you couldn't see me and my needs and the compromises I made for you? That you simply forgot about our agreement?”
“It's certainly not the fault of only one of us.” Mike says, arms crossed over his chest.
And probably he's right. That relationships fail is usually result of a combined effort. But then in our case there's still the issue of the affair.
I shrug non-committally, clutching at my drink.
“But I do wonder why you didn't tell me how you felt about this earlier,” Mike continues. “Why did you even ask me to meet here tonight if you weren't interested in patching things up?”
I almost choke on my tonic. “Are you serious?” He gives me no indication that he isn't. Just stares at me with this fucking self-righteous expression and it's getting increasingly harder not to tell him straight-up and unvarnished what I think of him.
“I have no idea how you could even think I wanted to patch things up after all that happened! And even if, did you really believe two dates would be enough to make up for months of silence? Maybe it was naive but somehow I thought even if we weren't together anymore you still cared enough about me to... I don't know... want to clear the air? Stay friends? We were together for quite a while and I assumed, that now, after a bit of healing time, we perhaps both had an interest in staying in touch?”
“So is this about money?” Mike says, apparently unwilling to follow my train of thought.
“Are you even listening to what I'm saying?” I'm beginning to get the feeling I could also talk to a brick wall. Nothing of what I'm trying to tell him seems to get through to him. All I'm achieving is provide him with ideas for ever new excuses why the end of our relationship isn't his fault. The whole conversation is absolutely pointless.
My eyes flick towards the bar and meet Jay's. He just stands there, looking me with a somewhat soft expression on his face. A warm sensation is welling up inside me. Next to him Leon leans over the bar to whisper something into Amber's ear who is also staring into my direction. It's obvious they're keeping an eye on things. A wave of confidence surges through me. My friends have my back. I'm home. Nothing can hurt me here.
“You know what?” I say to Mike, summoning all my courage to see this through. “Maybe you're right. Maybe it is about money. It would only be fair if you repaid me. I worked my ass off to support you and now that you have a decent income it shouldn't be too difficult to return the favour. It's still way cheaper than a student loan would have been, that's for sure, so you can chalk it up as a bargain.”
Mike presses his lips into a thin line but he doesn't say anything. Whatever that means. The ball is in his court now, I've said all I wanted to tell him.
Even if I don't see as much as a dime from him, I won't feel like I've come out of this relationship as a loser, and at the moment that's enough of a victory for me.
Chapter 17
Jay
“Don't freak out, Kat is here with her ex,” Amber says unceremoniously the moment I stroll up to the bar to get myself another drink.
I want to turn around but Amber has already caught my wrist.
“Don't look,” she hisses. “Jesus, Jay. The last thing she needs is an audience.”
Of course she's right. But I have to know what's going on, so if I'm not allowed to find out myself, who better than Amber to fill me in? So I bombard her with questions. Too many to answer all at once but I have to vent a little, otherwise I'm gonna explode.
“What are you two whispering about?” Leon asks, leaning over the bar in an unsuccessful attempt to steal a quick kiss.
Amber ignores him. She hates it when he tries to do that while she's working.
“Kat told me to tell Jay she's properly breaking up with her ex tonight,” she declares.
So that's what this is about?
Leon doesn't seem to get it either. “I thought they broke up several months ago?”
Amber rolls her eyes as if we're stupid on purpose. “Didn't you hear the little word properly I put into my sentence? I meant they're having a talk to sort everything out. Clean slate, you know.” She looks pointe
dly at me. “Something you should have done with Crystal a long time ago.”
I know she's right. You're never really free until you draw the final line and make absolutely clear there's no way back. Crystal isn't my lover anymore but she isn't just a friend either, that's not the way I treat her and it's definitely not the way she treats me, with all the bail-outs and late night calls. And I'm aware she still hopes we'll get back together again. I have had my reasons for not telling her I've got no intention to though, and not all of them are selfish. I wanted her to feel safe and hopeful so she would have the strength for recovery.
Leon understands how I feel about this, after all he's the one who had to listen to my whining all the time. And since he's also my trusted wing man in this, he is quick to change the conversation back to the topic of Kat's break-up.
“If we're not allowed to watch the spectacle, you have to tell us what's happening at least,” he repeats my earlier request.
“They're arguing,” Amber says after a quick glance at the scene playing out behind our backs. “Seriously guys, there isn't much more I could tell you right now. Why don't you take your drinks and go back to your game of pool or whatever you were doing five minutes ago and I'm gonna fill you in on this later?”
But of course we're not going anywhere. Leon is happy about any excuse to stay close to Amber and I am too invested in this to leave. What if that break-up talk ends in reconciliation? It's not as if that never happens. I've been in similar situations myself. Sometimes, once you cleared the air and your anger has evaporated, getting back together seems like a brilliant idea because, after all, you do love each other. Besides, make-up sex is often the best sex.
I stare glumly into my drink instead of giving into the temptation to stare in the mirror behind the bar, hoping to catch a glimpse of them. I look everywhere, at everything but the mirror, but her, but mostly I'm staring at my hands. Rough, callused worker's hands with thick strong fingers, bruised in places and despite the thorough scrubbing after work still a little dirty. I still have to fight the urge to curl them into fists, walk over and punch that idiot of an ex-boyfriend in the face. Because I'm still convinced he deserves is.