by Alice Bright
"You're right," I admitted. "It's probably not the best idea. I really, really like you, though."
"I like you a lot, too, Liz," he told me. "But the thing is, this is complicated for me. You work for me, you live with me, and I like you. And I've been in the serious relationship before. I've been engaged before," he paused. I didn't say anything. Engaged? Really? What had happened? A million questions swam through my head. This was a part of Alex that I'd never seen.
"It was a mutual decision to end the engagement," he explained. "But I loved her, Liz. I loved her deeply. And I don't want to jump into anything serious right now. I like you, but we have our whole lives. Why don't we take things slow?"
On some levels it felt like a copout to me. I didn't say that, though.
"Have you been in a lot of relationships?" I asked Alex.
"Define 'a lot.'"
"How many women have you slept with?"
"Do you really want to know?"
I thought about it for a moment before nodding. If we were going to do this, if we were going to actually pursue a relationship with one another and not just sleep together and move on, then I should know what I was getting into.
"I don't know," he said. Alex's face held an array of emotions: disappointment, disgust, disbelief, confusion.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that I've slept with so many people that I don't know how many I've slept with. There was a point when I'd bring home someone new every night. And yes, sometimes even clients. There was a point where I didn't even have to know her name. All I needed was someone to be with me."
He watched me, waiting for me to say something. Alex seemed surprised when I didn't yell or scream. He seemed surprised when I didn't run out of the room.
"What changed?" I asked him. Obviously, something was different. Obviously, something had happened to change his mind about relationships.
"Tabitha happened," Alex said with a smile. And that's when it all came out: their whirlwind romance, their exciting engagement, his father's disapproval, her mother's death. "She couldn't handle the idea of marrying into a family where she wouldn't be completely accepted," Alex told me. "And I couldn't handle the pressure to pretend to be perfect. I'm not. In the end, we called off the wedding before the invitations were sent."
"Do you regret not getting married?" It was a tough question, I knew, and probably not a very fair one, but I wanted to ask and Alex seemed open to being pestered at the moment.
"I don't regret not getting married because I don't think it would be right in our situation. I would have hated to have gotten married and then, after realizing it wouldn't work, end up being just another couple in my dad's office. That would be terrible to me," he told me. "Terrible."
"It sounds like she was really wonderful," I commented, thinking of Tim. There were so many times when I missed him, so many times that I wanted to laugh at an inside joke, only to realize that the person who knew the punch line wasn't around.
"She made me different," Alex admitted. "And I will always be grateful to her for that. She made me realize that there's more to a relationship than just having one night together. It's more important to have a lifetime together. Forever I felt like I had to be a conqueror in dating the same way I want to conquer at work. That's not the case. The person you love shouldn't be something that you devour and then cast aside."
I leaned my head on Alex's shoulder and thought about what he said. His hands drifted playfully through my hair as we sat together on the sofa. He seemed so different than when I had first met him: still strong, but with a softer side. There was something wonderful about his unashamed honesty, something so perfect about the way that he wasn't afraid to open up to me and to be real. I could take it or leave it, but he was at least giving me that chance.
"I've only been with one person," I told him. If he was going to give me his number, more or less, than I could at least do the same.
"I'm sorry about the way your relationship ended. You didn't deserve that, Liz. Nobody deserves that."
"You don't think it's weird that I don't have more experience?"
"When the time is right," he smiled, "I'm sure I can teach you everything you need to know."
***
"What time will Tim be arriving?" My mother's question hung in the air for a moment, dangling in front of me. It had been over a month and I still hadn't told her about the breakup. It wasn't that I was trying to hide information from my parents, but was my dating life something that they really needed to be involved in? Our relationship's crash had been so devastating, so personal, so heartbreaking. I didn't really want to dive into those emotions again. I had been trying for weeks to keep myself in check, but I knew it wouldn't take much for the floodgates to open up.
"He won't be," I told my mother, waiting for her response. To my surprise, she simply raised an eyebrow and asked about my new job.
"It's good," I told her honestly. "I love it. My boss is great. He works in an office adjacent to the waiting room. That's where my desk is - the waiting room. We work on a lot of cases together and I do a lot of paperwork. The best part is that it doesn't interfere with my classes. Once school's out for the summer," I added, "I'll be able to work full time if I want to."
"That sounds quite nice," Mom said, leaning back onto the comfortable sofa. The two of us were lounging around her living room, waiting for the pizza we'd ordered to arrive. It had been awhile since I'd come over and spent time with just my mom. Usually my dad was around too, but he was off on a hunting trip. It was fine, though. It gave us time to be girly and silly and to reconnect with one another.|
"What about you?" I asked. "How long is Dad going to be gone for?"
My mother's hesitation caught me off guard, and I knew before she said it. She answered in the same way that I did when questioned about Tim. It was the things that she didn't say that really mattered.
"He won't be coming back," she finally said. "Your father and I have decided to end our relationship."
My entire mouth went dry as I stared at her. She couldn't be serious. This was mom and dad we were talking about. This was my parents. This was my parents who had been together for more than 20 years. This was true love. This was the most perfect couple I had ever known. What had happened? What had gone wrong? How could this possibly be happening?
"I don't understand," I said, willing myself not to try. "What happened?"
"Sweetie, people change. Things change. Situations change. Sometimes things just don't work out. It's nobody's fault, not really. People just drift apart."
I stared at her, not fully believing the words she was saying. "Did something happen?" I asked her, "Is there someone else?"
She paused just long enough that I knew the answer.
"Who?"
"It doesn't matter," she told me, "but that's not the reason. Your father and I have been having problems for a long time. Like I said-"
"I know," I interrupted her. "People change.
Chapter 14
My visit with my mom left me feeling uneasy. I knew that her and dad had been struggling, but wasn't that normal? Didn't everyone have problems? Didn't everyone seem to have their own issues? Granted, I had only had one serious relationship, so obviously I was naive when it came to men, and my breakup with Tim had seemed to sour my own confidence. While I had once prided myself on being such an amazing girlfriend, I now wondered if anything I knew was right, if anything I had ever experienced was real.
I returned to Alex's house after grabbing a cheeseburger from a fast food restaurant. When I walked inside, the lights were off, so I knew I'd be alone. I quietly climbed the stairs to my bedroom and took off my clothes. Standing in front of the mirror, I stared at my body. Was this all that men cared about? Was this all I had to offer? It was easy to find the things that I didn't like: the slightly-sagging breasts, the not-exactly-toned abdomen, the just-a-little-too-round butt.
But what about the things that I did like? What about the thin
gs that did make me feel special? I thought of the way I had melted when I'd first met Tim. He loved how friendly and outgoing I was. He loved my smile. Alex liked it, too. One point for my two rounds of braces. Apparently they'd paid off. My hair never seemed to do what I wanted it to, but it was always soft and silky. Another point for my hair.
Not bothering to put pajamas on, I slipped into bed and stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours. I knew it was time to start looking for my own place, but I'd gotten comfortable at Alex's. I'd grown at ease around him. I was still incredibly attracted to him, but I also wasn't sure if it was the right idea to pursue a relationship with someone that I lived with. That had turned out so well the last time, after all.
It seemed like all I did was worry and fret. At least I had money now. Alex paid me more than I felt like I was worth, so I finally didn't feel like I was starving all of the time. I could buy groceries. I could pay my tuition. I could pay rent if I would ever get off my ass and look for a place. I made a silent promise to myself to find an apartment before the end of the week. I wanted to be with Alex, I really did. I just didn't want to end up like my parents. I just didn't want to be in pain anymore.
A door slammed somewhere in the house. I wondered if that meant Alex had just come home or if he had been holed up in his room. There were many nights when he'd bring work home from the office and be locked away for hours. While he sometimes sent me home with my own work to go over, for the most part I was simply a secretary and my duties rarely extended past normal business hours.
After a moment, there was a soft knock at the door.
"Come in," I called out, forgetting for a moment that I was naked. I slithered deeper under the covers as Alex walked in, letting a slim stream of light pour into the room. He stood in the doorway for a moment, demonstrating just a slight hesitation before he stepped forward and walked toward the bed.
Sitting down next to me, he leaned over and kissed me on the forehead.
"Hi Beautiful," he whispered.
"Why, hello," I leaned up and kissed him softly back.
"I was working and didn't hear you come in," he explained.
"I figured as much," I told him. "That's why I didn't come bother you."
"How was your Mom's?"
I sighed. "Frustrating," I explained. "My parents are having problems: big problems. I feel lost. They're my parents. They shouldn't be the ones to split up, you know? They're supposed to be the ones who make it, the ones who are there forever. They're supposed to be my role models. And they're just..." My voice drifted off as the tears started to fall, but Alex was there, kissing me and whispering that everything was going to be okay.
And as he slid his hands under my blankets, he stopped whispering.
And I started to believe him.
**
I didn't make Alex leave when we were finished. He spent the entire night in my bed and when we woke up, I told him "I need to move out."
"I know," he agreed, kissing me softly. "But I don't want you to."
"I just don't want to rush into anything," I said. He nodded, but he didn't seem to believe that living separately was as important as I thought it was.
"I'll respect your decision, no matter what it is," he told me.
With a smile, I kissed him. "Though I have to admit, waking up in your arms is pretty wonderful."
"I agree," Alex said. I realized, suddenly, that this was the first time I'd seen him without his clothes on. Specifically, the first time I'd seen him without his shirt on. He was in good shape, especially for someone who spent so much time at a desk.
Glancing at the clock, Alex rolled lazily out of bed and held out a hand to me.
"Shall we shower?" He smiled. "It's almost time for work."
"Yes, Boss," I accepted his hand and slipped out of bed. Alex grabbed me by the waist and kissed me again. This was going to be fun.
**
We drove separately to the office. Neither one of us had told anyone at work about our living situation. Alex didn't feel like his father needed to know, and I didn't think that anyone at all needed to know, so we agreed to keep it to ourselves. I arrived a few minutes before Alex, and before I had even reached my desk, I heard yelling.
"He is a jerk! He'd better give me everything! I deserve it after all those years of hard work, raising our daughter and-"
The voice sounded familiar. I cocked my head for just a moment until I realized who it was. And then it was all I could do to keep from screaming: my mother. My mother was meeting with the Senior Smith to talk about her divorce from my father. It wasn't her fault, I realized, that she had just happened to pick the law firm that I worked at, but it would make things messy and uncomfortable for me. I decided to stay out of it and to hurry to my desk, hoping that no one would speak to me. Fortunately, being invisible seemed to be second nature for me.
Alex entered the room a few minutes later, shaking his head.
"Good morning, Elizabeth," he said to me with a slight nod.
"Good morning, Mr. Smith," I responded.
"My father has a new client today," Alex said, handing me a pile of papers. "Could you copy these and bring them to him?"
Wincing, I accepted the papers.
"What's wrong?" Alex picked up on the frown.
A slew of swear words radiated from the older Smith's office as I admitted, "Your father's new client is my mother." The swearing continued. "And no," I commented, walking to the copier, "she doesn't get any friendlier."
Chapter 15
Word of my parents' divorce spread throughout the firm. No one treated me differently, but everyone knew who I was now. I was the girl with the "batshit-crazy mom." I was the girl whose father "couldn't hold his liquor." I was the one that couldn't even keep her parents from utilizing the same law firm where she worked. I was the one who couldn't separate business from pleasure.
I had, at least, found a place to live. Alex helped me load my belongings into my car and move into my new apartment.
"It's not as good as the apartment at your place," I admitted. "But at least you're just a few blocks away.
"You don't have to go," he told me, wrapping his arms around my waist. "I could be just a few doors away."
"I think it'll be better," I said for the millionth time, closing my eyes, still questioning my decision, still not quite believing myself. Part of me wondered if I was being ridiculous and unfair. After all, it wasn't Alex's fault that I had lived with someone and that we had broken up. At the same time, I wanted to be committed to someone before I lived with a partner again. And by committed, I meant married. Obviously feeling committed to someone wasn't enough to keep them faithful. I knew, realistically, that marriage wasn't enough, either, but it made me feel better to know that I was setting a standard for myself.
"I think it's good," Molly told me over dinner one night. I had invited her over for pizza so that we could cram for finals together. "It gives you both your own space. When you're always around someone, you never get the chance to miss them. I think this way, you actually start to crave each other."
I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn't know if she was right or not. It seemed like no one really knew what was right or not. I had finally reached the point in life where I'd discovered that not everything was black or white. Sometimes things really were grey. Sometimes they really were murky. Sometimes things were even downright confusing. But then again, I supposed it was all part of becoming a real adult.
I liked my new place. The blinds were tattered and the carpets were worn, but it was mine. I bought a bed and a couch and a new comforter. I didn't have a table, so Molly and I sat side-by-side on the couch while we ate our pepperoni pizza and drank our Miller Lite. And for just a little while, things felt normal. For just a little while, I thought that I might be okay.
I'd had four beers too many when Tim texted me.
"Don't do it," Molly said. "Don't you dare text him back. He had his chance." She took my phone and changed the password
so that I couldn't unlock it. "Tomorrow," she promised. "When you're sober."
"It just figures," I said, staring at my locked cell phone, wondering what she had changed the PIN to. Maybe my birth date, but probably not. "It just figures that as soon as I start to feel okay, something like this happens. And then nothing is okay anymore."
I laid back on the floor of my new home and stared at the popcorn ceiling. I thought, for a moment, about how stupid popcorn ceilings were, how they made hanging posters or pictures on your ceiling impossible. Molly rubbed my ankle. "It's going to be fine," she told me. "It's going to be okay."
That was what people were supposed to say, though. They were supposed to say things like, "It'll be okay" and "Everything will be fine." They were supposed to say, "You deserve better" and "He was a jerk." The truth was, though, that I had loved Tim. I had loved him deeply. And love wasn't just something that you could shut off when a relationship ended. Love wasn't something that you could just forget about. Love wasn't something that you wanted to forget about.
It just was.
"It hurts," I said out loud. "And I feel like the pain is never going to go away. It hurts when I breathe, it hurts when I don't. And when I'm with Alex, I still think of Tim, even just for a moment. And I wonder what he's doing. And I wonder if he misses me. And I wonder why I was so easy to forget about. And I wonder why I wasn't as special as he said I was."
All it took was cheap beer and good company to get me to open up. Molly popped open another bottle and handed it to me. She didn't say anything as I cried and drank. There wasn't really anything to say, not really. We drank in the silence, in the dimly lit apartment , in the room where I had finally been honest with myself about my feelings. And after awhile we both passed out on the couch beneath a tattered quilt that I had once shared with a boy that I loved.
**
"Mr. Smith wants to see you," Isabelle told me when I walked into work the next morning.
"Okay, I'll be right there," I told her.