by Mary Whitney
After a moment, Lisa said cautiously, “Let’s say you two are guaranteed to break up. Wouldn’t it hurt worse to have it happen suddenly? Wouldn’t it be easier for you if it happened over time?”
It was a good question; it got to the root of what I’d been debating. Mulling it over, I thought of Lauren. She’d left me suddenly. Would it have been better if she’d had cancer and was sick for a year before she died? I would’ve been with her another year, but watching her die would’ve been excruciating.
The difference with Adam was that if I broke up with him, I could have some control in my life. I’d be making the decision. I would be devastated either way, but at least I could make the call and decide when it happened.
My eyes shifted between Rachel and Lisa. Both of them looked alarmed and depressed. I knew I shouldn’t talk with them anymore about it, especially Rachel. I was putting her and Tom in an awful position.
I smiled. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I’m just thinking.”
They seemed relieved, and Lisa said, “That’s fine, but you tell us before you do anything.”
“Yes, please tell us,” Rachel said. “I won’t say anything to Tom. It’s not my place.”
“Sure. I trust you.” Then I looked away and lied, “And I’m not going to do anything. I’ve got plenty of time.”
Chapter 25
I DIDN’T HAVE A LOT OF TIME before Adam left, and I panicked at the thought of having to talk to him about visiting that summer. When he didn’t mention it after Rachel and I had talked, I was sure his father had changed his mind. I felt relieved, but I was still sad thinking that his dad was right about it all. We should just end things.
My multiple personalities began to fail. Since I’d talked with Rachel and Lisa, the three faces of Nicki started to merge into a single melancholy one. The morning of April first, I changed my calendar and sighed as the word April shouted at me. Then I noticed what day it was: April Fool’s Day.
Great. It’s April, and I’m the fool. I’ve got a great boyfriend, but he’s leaving forever. The joke is on me.
I tried to be happier around Adam, but that day he must’ve seen through it. After school, we were lying in my bed after having our usual round of afternoon sex, but I was quiet. Adam stroked my hair and asked, “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You seem sad today.”
Remaining silent for a moment, I debated what to do. Grandma Johnson was a big knitter. Sometimes when she got frustrated with a project, she would just tug on the end of the yarn. The sweater she’d been knitting—often after she’d spent hours on it—would unravel right before my eyes. I knew if I brought up Adam’s leaving and the possibility of us breaking up, I’d start a chain reaction like dominos falling. Was I ready for that?
I’d wanted him to bring up the topic of our future, but it was stupid to wait for him to get around to it. If I was going to decide what happened to me, I needed to face the music myself. I needed to be strong. I decided to simply broach the subject but not dwell on it.
Nodding over to my calendar, I said, “It’s April now.”
A huge smile appeared on Adam’s face. “I know. I’ve been waiting for today. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Oh God. The ticket. I stuttered, “What’s…that?”
“I want you to come and stay with me at home this summer. I’ll buy your ticket. You can stay as long as you want. My parents are good with it, and of course Sylvia is ecstatic.”
I tried to play coy, hoping to drag out the conversation so I could switch topics. “Oh my God, Adam. That’s unbelievably generous. How can you afford that?”
“Oh, I’ve got some money saved up. My grandfather gave it to me. This seems like a great way to use it.”
“Your grandfather? What does he do?”
“Um. Not much anymore. He’s getting on a bit now.”
“But what about when he was young?”
“Well, he was in the Royal Air Force, and after that he took care of the family business.”
“What kind of business?”
“We have an estate,” he said nudging in closer to me. “My father’s family is an old Scottish one.”
“Is he like some kind of lord?”
“Something like that.”
“Seriously?” I’d been joking. No matter how rich you are in America, you don’t have a title. “So does that mean one day you’ll be one? Like you’re in line to the family throne?”
“I wouldn’t call it a throne, but, yes, eventually, technically, I’ll have a title. It’s not a big deal, though.”
“Do we have anything in common?” I shook my head in disbelief and smiled.
“What? Of course. That’s only the Kincaid side of my family, not my mum’s. Her family had to work hard to give her and her sister a good education; she wasn’t privileged like my dad. You might’ve noticed her accent is a little different, more like David’s.”
I smiled, trying to wrap my head around it all. When I was quiet, he added, “I promise you I don’t live in a castle. We’re utterly middle class. You’ll see. Won’t you come and visit?”
This was it. My answer to this would decide everything. I knew what I needed to do for myself. I took a big breath and started the chain reaction that would detonate the nuclear bomb.
Shaking my head again, I sullenly told him the deep feeling that underpinned my entire decision. “I love you, Adam, but I can’t. It’s so kind of you, and it just makes me love you more, but I can’t do it. If I go, it’s only going to make everything harder.”
“What do you mean?” He looked at me like I was crazy. “I don’t understand.”
“Adam, I love you, but I don’t think that’s enough. Let’s be real. We’re not going to really have a relationship after you leave.”
Frowning, his brow furrowed as he played with my hair. “Well, yes, I suppose things might change over time, but why worry about that now?”
I pursed my lips before answering. “I can’t not worry about that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean it would kill me.”
“I wouldn’t like it either, but…” He pressed his lips to my hand. “But we could be friends. And you never know what’s going to happen in the future.”
My heart felt like it was beating outside my chest. In total panic, I sputtered, “I can’t do that. I can’t watch our relationship die a slow death. I think we should break up when you leave.” I gulped in air before my finale. “I don’t think we were meant to be. I think this is it.”
Adam was stunned; he even looked a little angry. He was silent for a moment before he let it rip. “Are you mad? You think that because we’ve got…geography problems, that we should just split up?”
Nodding, I started to cry. “I think it would be easier.”
“That’s complete bollocks. How long have you been thinking about this?”
“A few weeks.” I started bawling, and my feelings tumbled out of me. “I can’t do it, Adam. It’s too much. It will be easier for me if you just leave. If I don’t have to talk to you when things are impossible between us, it will hurt, but not for so long.”
His eyes narrowed at me. I’d never seen him so upset. “I can’t believe I have to say this to you, Nicki, but you’re being fucking selfish as hell. This solution may be easier for you—although I doubt it is—but it would be hell for me. There are two people in this relationship, not just you.”
“Well…” He had a point that I’d dismissed when I had talked to Lisa and Rachel, but it was harder to reject it coming from him.
“You just said you loved me, for Christ’s sake!”
“I do love you,” I said defensively.
“How could that be true if you don’t even want to be my friend?”
I stopped crying because I realized we were having our first real argument and we were naked. It seemed odd to have him so exposed and furious at the same time.
I tried to calm him, explaining, “I think it’s the best thing for both
of us. Our parents are right. We’re too young. We live too far away. And now I hear we’re too different. We should just enjoy what we’ve had.”
Adam jumped out of bed. He looked livid as he started pulling on his boxers and pants. “This is bullshit. I’m going home. We can talk later.”
I smiled apologetically and asked, “Will you call me tonight?” I was sure he would say yes.
He ran his hands through his hair as he deliberated what should’ve been an easy answer of yes. “No. I don’t think that’s a good idea. I need some time.”
My eyes widened at his rejection. “Oh. Okay.” I looked away for a moment. What have I done?
He gave me a peck while he buttoned his shirt. “We can talk tomorrow.”
“I still love you, Adam.”
He looked at me suspiciously and then sighed. “And I love you.”
When he left my room, I realized what I’d done. I had thought I’d suggested that we break up right before he left. Instead, I was pretty sure that in his mind the break-up had started right then.
The next few days proved my theory. There was no longer flirty laughter with hugs and kisses at the lockers. We were brooding and uncomfortable around one another at school. Neither one of us wanted to talk about things there. Then when we’d get to my house after school, we’d have sex just as usual, but it felt wrong, like we were demanding something physically from one another that we weren’t getting emotionally. Then we’d have the same ugly argument about what to do when he left—or we just wouldn’t talk at all. Things got progressively worse between us the next week. When it became uncomfortable saying “I love you” to each other, I knew things were really bad.
It wasn’t long before Rachel accosted me in the hallway at school. “What the fuck is going on, Nicki? What did you tell Adam?”
“Leave me alone. I know what I’m doing,” I said and stomped away.
The truth was, I was only eighty percent sure I knew what I was doing. I really didn’t need anyone reminding me that there was a one-in-five chance I would regret what I’d done. I felt horrible, but I just kept telling myself that it would only be worse in the summer if I didn’t do it now.
I questioned myself again when Adam wouldn’t come into my house that afternoon. I couldn’t believe it and asked frantically, “You don’t want to come in?”
“I need to study for my French exam.”
Right. That was a lie if I’d ever heard one. I stared him down for a few seconds just so he understood I knew he was lying to me. He simply glared back with the same hurt and angry look he’d had all week. I gave him a kiss on the cheek saying, “Have a good night,” before I got out of his car and didn’t look back as he drove away.
My stomach did flip-flops after I shut the front door behind me. I gasped for air as I walked up to my room. Throwing myself on my bed, I started bawling into my pillow. I was quite certain that Adam and I were over.
I stayed in my room even after Mom came home from work, only barking through the door to her that I didn’t want dinner. When I heard a car pull up in the driveway, I peeked out the window. It was Adam.
Running to the bathroom, I saw I looked like absolute dog shit. Great. He’ll always remember me looking like a hag when we broke up.
When I went to open my door to meet him downstairs, a knock and Adam’s voice startled me. “Nicki?”
He walked in and closed the door behind him. No wonder Mom had just let him waltz into my room. He obviously had been crying. He looked like hell, too.
“Adam, are you okay?”
“No.” He grabbed me into his arms and pressed his head against mine. “We just heard my grandfather’s died. We’re leaving tonight.”
It was as if the few days of excruciating pain had never happened. I was all over him, caressing and soothing him, “Oh, Adam, I’m so sorry.”
The pain wasn’t over for him, though. As if he remembered he wasn’t supposed to touch me anymore, he stiffened up and announced, “I don’t have much time. I wanted to let you know that I’ll be gone for a week. I’ll be back next weekend.”
“Sure. Sure.” I nodded. “Please tell your family how sorry I am.”
“I will. I really need to go.”
Everything about the situation felt awful. I tried to salvage it by standing on my tiptoes and kissing his forehead. “Have a safe trip. I love you.”
Placing his hands on my shoulders, he pushed me away while saying once again, “Yeah, right. I love you, too.”
As he walked out, he said, “I’ll call you when I get back.”
Chapter 26
THE WEEK ADAM WAS GONE WAS HORRIBLE. I missed him terribly. That was awful enough until I remembered that I’d be feeling the exact same way in less than a couple of months, only then he would never be coming back. It was a crushing thought.
I still hadn’t told Rachel and Lisa about anything that had happened. I refused to discuss Adam with them because I knew they’d be pissed I hadn’t talked to them first. Without spending time with Rachel and Lisa, it felt like I had no friends at all.
By the middle of the week, the longing I had for him was so painful that I reconsidered everything. Maybe a friendship that withered on the vine one day wouldn’t be such a bad thing. At least I’d get to talk with him.
The following Saturday he called me in the middle of the day, just as he had when he’d come home from Christmas. This time was different, though. He didn’t ask to see me that night. Instead, he said he was too exhausted and asked, “But your mum will be at church tomorrow morning, right?”
“Yeah. You can come over then.”
I was disappointed that he didn’t want to see me immediately but happy that he wanted to see me alone. Yet something gnawed at me about how he’d said it—like maybe he wanted to be alone so he could tell me something. As the following morning drew closer, I was convinced something bad had happened. I didn’t know what, but it was bad.
When I nervously let him in the house that morning, I did a double-take. He had a black and bluish ring around his left eye.
I gave him a kiss on the cheek and asked, “Hey, sweetheart, what happened to your eye?”
“Er. Yeah. So you can still see it, then?” He seemed very embarrassed.
“I’d say. What happened?”
“I’ll tell you later.” With a big smile, he hugged me, “I’m so happy to see you, Nicki. I missed you so much.”
“I missed you. Come on in.”
As we walked toward the living room, I became a little hopeful that maybe things were back to normal. But when I turned and saw him anxiously running his hand through his hair, I was worried again. I sat us down on the sofa and faced him directly.
“So, tell me about it.”
Adam opened his mouth and then caught his breath. There was no doubt about it now that whatever he was about to say was bad. He spoke morosely, “Nicki, I have to tell you something.”
“What’s that?” I asked in a quavering voice.
I’d never seen him look scared, but that’s how he appeared—a frightened boy. He slowly declared, “I’ve always told you the truth.”
“Yeah?”
“I want to be honest with you. Please know that.”
“So?”
“I was…” His Adam’s apple bobbed with a giant swallow of air before he continued, “I got together with Kate when I was home.”
I was silent. There was too much to take in. First, the words had to register in my brain. I wasn’t sure what they meant exactly, but the general meaning was clear. He’d hooked up with Kate.
I was bewildered. I couldn’t comprehend a world where Adam would hurt me. That I’d never expected.
Eventually, I whispered, “What?”
“Oh, Nicki. Christ, I’m so sorry. I’m such a fucking wanker. I love you. I never meant to hurt you. I was drunk…”
Everything he said seemed like standard cheater bullshit. None of it told me anything. “Why?”
“I don’t k
now. I was drunk.” He mumbled, “Kate was there. She knew my grandfather. She’s familiar.”
Ouch. That hurt. She’d consoled him; I hadn’t. Me—who had spent the last year grieving and crying on his shoulder—I hadn’t been the one to console him about his grandfather’s death. Kate the Bitch had.
Then, starting to tear up, he roared in what sounded like self-defense, “You broke my heart!”
My moment of guilt ended immediately. I was headed for emotional arrest, and self-preservation kicked in. It was like my mind was taken over by a computer program, the one specially designed for when a guy cheats on you.
I sneered. “So it’s my fault? It was retribution?”
“No!” He grimaced at me and became quieter. “Of course not. I —”
“What happened?” For some reason, this time I needed details. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
“After the funeral in Scotland, we went back to Cambridge for a few days. I saw her at the pub. I was completely shit-faced. And —”
“And what?”
“And we were smashed…things got a bit out of control in the back room at the pub.” He looked at me pleadingly. “We didn’t have sex. I promise.”
“I feel so much better.” I’d said it sarcastically, but in reality it was the truth. Yet I still couldn’t help asking for the details that I didn’t want to hear but had to know. “So did you…touch her?”
He nodded.
I imagined him with his hand up her shirt or, worse, down her pants. My self-esteem took a massive hit, and I wanted to hit him back.
I quickly followed up. “And I’m sure she touched you.”
With his eyes closed, he nodded again.
I pounced, hoping he was embarrassed, because I was humiliated. “So she gave you head? Please just say yes or no.”
“Yes.” He’d whispered it, but his voice became stronger, saying, “That’s where it ended. David walked in on us, and Kate ran off.”
Hmph. What restraint. I nodded toward his face. “How’d you get the black eye?”
“David hit me.”
I rolled my eyes. I should’ve stuck with the cousin.