The Marriage Contract

by Kim Hartfield

  “No, I don’t need any more. In fact, I should probably just go.” Her eyes filled, and her voice came out in a whisper. “I’ll miss you,” she said. “I-I’ll miss you so much. Take care of yourself, Leah. I love you.”

  As usual, I couldn’t help but tear up when I saw her crying. Sometimes I thought I experienced her feelings more than even my own. “Why do you sound like that?” I asked, trying and failing to stop the swell of emotion. “Like you’re saying goodbye forever?”

  “Because I don’t know when I’m going to see you again.”

  “No.” I stared at her hard, finding deception behind her eyes. She was lying to make me feel better, but why? “You’ve never been like this before. What’s going on, Poppy? Tell me the truth.”

  Her lip wobbled, and a tear spilled down her cheek. I grabbed a tissue from my purse, knowing she’d hate for all the people surrounding us to see her crying. She took it but didn’t use it, her eyes reddening as another tear fell.

  “What are we doing, Leah?” she asked hoarsely. “I mean, how can we go on like this?”

  “Like what?” I asked dumbly, although I already knew.

  “This distance. Having one weekend together every month, or every couple of months. What kind of relationship is that?”

  “A good one. One that’s working for the moment, and that’ll only get better when we’re able to spend more time together.” I bit my lip. I should’ve told her about my ideas for the summer ages ago. Hopefully it wasn’t too late. “I want you to move in with me for the summer, okay? We’ll be together every day. We can even travel together if I can get the time off. Go to Paris or Rome…”

  “But what about after that?” she asked. “What happens next year, when I’m working – in Grass Cove – and you’re still here?”

  Putting my arm around her, I guided her over to a bench. She was sobbing now, and I wiped her tears myself. “We can cross that bridge when we come to it, sweetie. We don’t have to worry about things that haven’t even happened yet.”

  “You talk like it’s some far-fetched idea,” she choked out. “I am going to be working in Grass Cove. And you’ll be working here. My mom had a stroke – what if she has another? I feel guilty enough for leaving her for one weekend. How could I leave her for longer?”

  I didn’t have a good response to that. If she hadn’t already booked her tickets when her mom had the stroke, I would’ve visited her instead.

  “We each have lives in our different cities,” she went on, “so do you have a solution? Because I sure don’t.”

  My heart ached. It sounded like she’d already given up on this – on us. After all the time I’d spent longing for her, I couldn’t lose her so soon. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work,” I said in a low voice. “I love you, Poppy. I’m willing to work for this. To sacrifice.”

  “But why should you have to?” She squeezed my hands, which felt nice at first, and then it was so tight that it hurt. “There are plenty of women here that you could date. Ones you wouldn’t have to sacrifice for.”

  “I don’t want those women.” My voice cracked. “I want you, Poppy. All these years, I never felt like this about anyone else. You’re not replaceable. No one else could even compare. Fuck, Poppy, it’s only ever been you.”

  “You never gave those girls a chance,” she said, wiping frantically at her eyes. “You were stuck on me, and you didn’t open your heart to see if one of them could’ve been just as good.”

  “I didn’t need to!” I was getting angry now. How could she think she was anything but special, precious, unique? “I was waiting for you without even knowing I was doing it. Somewhere deep down, I knew I only wanted to be with you.”

  “But how?”

  “We’ll make it work. We – ”

  “Stop being vague and tell me something specific. How?”

  I dropped my gaze. I had no answer for that.

  She was quiet for a moment, letting my silence sink in. “If we know it’s not going to work, we should pull the plug right now,” she finally said. “We should rip off the Band-Aid, and it’ll hurt less.”

  “What? No.”

  “Yes.” She nodded tearfully. “Better to do it now than months down the line.”

  “We can spend the summer together – ”

  “We’d only be in that much deeper! We’re not too invested now, so it’ll be easier.”

  “Not invested?” I choked out a bitter laugh. “I’ve been invested since the day I was born! Maybe this whole idea is new for you, but it’s not for me. I’m not giving up on us that easily. I won’t.”

  “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, Leah.” She stood up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

  I shot up. “Poppy, wait. Don’t.”

  Holding out her hands, she kept me at arm’s length. “I’m going to pull the plug right now. I’m breaking up with you.”

  “No, you can’t. I don’t agree with it.”

  “It only takes one person to break up.” She took a step back, and then another. “You don’t have to agree.”

  “No, Poppy, no, don’t do this.” I sobbed, conscious that people were staring. “You can’t leave, honey, please. You know how I feel about break-ups. If you end this now, it’s final.”

  “I’m sorry, Leah. I hope you’ll understand someday, this was for your own good.”

  She was gone – or maybe that was just my eyes blurring.

  I collapsed to a heap on the floor.

  Nineteen – Poppy

  Instead of making me pass out, the allergy pill just made me sad and sleepy. I cried through the whole first hour of the flight – not soft, unnoticeable tears but full-body, wracking sobs. I turned to the window, hoping not to disturb the older man next to me. He looked down his nose at me and inched to the edge of his seat.

  I pressed my soaking tissue to my cheeks, wishing I’d had the forethought to buy a packet, or better yet, a box. The tissue wasn’t doing anything anymore. In fact, it was beginning to crumble under my fingers.

  Surely I’d feel better soon. I’d known this break-up was going to hurt, but I also knew it was necessary. I’d ripped off the Band-Aid, and now the healing could begin.

  By the end of the flight, my sobs had quieted, and I just whimpered to myself every few seconds as the occasional tear slid down my cheeks. I tried to smile as everyone stood up to disembark the plane, but there was no chance of passing myself off as happy. I avoided the flight attendants’ eyes as they said goodbye, and hung back in the arrivals hall so my seatmate could get far ahead of me.

  Things had to get better. This was only temporary. The split with Kerry had been easy – I’d been hurt, but not emotional like this. In a few days, maybe a week or two, I’d be back to my normal self.

  I had to be.

  *

  On Monday morning, I stared into the mirror. My eyes were red, and the tip of my nose was even redder. I reached for my foundation – I didn’t use it often, since my skin was pretty good. I kept it around for special occasions, and apparently this was one.

  I dabbed the liquid across my nose and under my eyes, then blended it as well as I could. The redness still showed through. Frowning, I put on more. When it still didn’t work, I tried concealer instead. No luck, and now all the make-up I’d heaped on was flaking off in clumps.

  I let out a sigh, and as I stared into my own eyes in the reflection, I sniffled. God, this was worse than the morning after I’d seen Mom in the hospital. I’d been upset then, and now I was just… broken.

  Getting a night’s sleep hadn’t helped. In fact, I couldn’t call it that when I’d barely managed to sleep a wink. I’d constantly replayed the scene at the airport in my mind, and when I managed to make that stop for a minute, I replayed parts of our relationship instead. Even bits and pieces of our childhood had come back to me, moments I hadn’t thought of in years that suddenly felt monumentally meaningful.

  I hated that our relationship was over when it’
d barely gotten started. Even worse was losing our friendship, which had survived a twelve-year intermission. There was no going back to being friends at this point, not after we’d fallen so hard and so fast for each other. It might’ve been possible with someone I hadn’t been so passionate about, but not her.

  Ironic, wasn’t it? The very thing I’d lacked in my last relationship was the same thing I was lamenting now. I’d thought my passion for Leah had given us a better chance at making it for the long term, and now I wished I could turn off my feelings for her.

  I blinked, and a tear fell. Dammit. Was I going to be able to control my emotions enough to get through the day? I could just picture the kids demanding to know why I was sad. Maybe I could get away with showing some movies or having them work in small groups. I remembered Mary had done something similar once when she was brutally hung over.

  After wiping away the tear, I picked up my lipstick. I was going to have to at least look presentable. I could figure out how to alter my lesson plan later. Leah was going to laugh at me when I told her about how I’d been too distraught to even function.

  No, wait. Leah wasn’t going to say anything, because I wasn’t going to tell her about this. I wasn’t going to tell her anything. Never going to talk to her again. To see her… to kiss her… to hold her…

  Leah was no longer a part of my life. I was sure I’d made the right choice, but it still hurt. It really fucking hurt.

  As I stared at myself, my face crumpled, and I reached a decision. I grabbed my phone and dialed the school secretary. “Hi, Barbara? This is Poppy Barnes. I’m so sorry for the last-minute notice, but I’m not feeling well today. Would you be able to find a substitute?”

  She said it was no problem, and we hung up. I felt a little guilty, but I hadn’t really lied. I wasn’t feeling well at all. A mental health day was in order.

  Stepping out of the bathroom, I picked up my purse. I wasn’t presentable enough for work, but I looked perfectly acceptable for stocking up on ice cream at the corner store.

  Twenty – Leah

  “I just can’t believe she’d do this to me.” I sniffled and wiped away a tear. “After how long we’ve known each other, she let a little distance get in the way?”

  Neeta patted my back reassuringly. “I know, Leah. I mean, you’ve already said the same thing in about a hundred different ways, tonight alone.”

  “I’m sorry.” I’d come over to her place for a nice cheerful hangout, and for the seventh time in seven days, I’d ended up disintegrating into a puddle of tears. “I don’t mean to be a downer. S-she always used to call me a downer…”

  “Shh. It’s okay.” More gentle pats. “Do you want another beer? Or another cup of ice cream?”

  I blinked up at her through blurry eyes. “You have more ice cream?”

  “I had a feeling you might need it, so I stocked up.” She disappeared into the other room, leaving me to wipe my eyes with my already-soaked sleeves.

  When was I going to stop breaking down like this? Even after a week, the wound felt as fresh and raw as it had on Sunday. I was barely getting through my days at work, and my boss had commented on my poor performance. Luckily it was wildly out of character for me, so he hadn’t been too concerned about it.

  Neeta came back, bearing not just ice cream but also drinks and tissues. I gladly accepted the tissues first, and she set the rest on the side table. Sitting next to me, she leaned her chin in her hand. “You can cry as much as you want, you know. I can’t even begin to imagine how you’re feeling right now.”

  “I shouldn’t be this upset,” I sniffled. “Poppy was right. We didn’t have a future.”

  “That’s not true. You two would’ve figured something out.”

  “Then she just didn’t want to.” My heart broke a little more with every beat. “I like the first option better.”

  “Okay, you’re right. It’s going to be all right.”

  She took a sip of her own beer – I figured an alcoholic haze would make it easier for her to deal with me. This couldn’t be fun for her, and I felt terrible that she had to see me like this – but I was being a little selfish, because being alone would’ve been even worse.

  “I don’t know if it is going to be all right,” I said. “I spent my whole life dying to be with her, and now – now…” I hid my face in my hands, fresh tears falling.

  “I know you were crazy about her for a long time, but that’s not all you’ve done with your life.”

  “Yes, it is.” I sounded like a petulant child.

  “Come on.” She squeezed my shoulder. “PupTech. SpotBot. Your entire career. Your work is going to save people’s lives. Even after you’re dead and gone, SpotBot will live on, saving people.”

  I snorted. “Even after the apocalypse, he’ll still be sniffing around the wreckage of humanity, looking for survivors.”

  She rolled her eyes at my sarcasm. “You know what I mean. You’ve made a difference in the world. You weren’t sitting around with your thumb up your ass, waiting for Poppy to give you a chance.”

  “More like crying because I knew she never would.”

  I remembered how it’d felt to leave for college, knowing I wouldn’t see her every day anymore. Even then, I’d had a vague plan to slowly fade out of her life. I’d been aware of my feelings for her since maybe junior year, and since I was certain they’d never be reciprocated, I was sure fading out would be for the best.

  It’d hurt, consciously taking longer to reply to her emails, not picking up the phone when I saw it was her. I’d struggled with it sometimes, telling myself nothing had to change, that we could just be friends, but I always knew it wasn’t true. I wanted all of her, or none at all.

  So I’d come out and started dating, finding out with surprise that women found me desirable. For a while, I’d thought I might be able to fall for one of the many girls I went out with. They were generally nice, beautiful, sexy… But in the back of my mind, I was comparing them to Poppy, and they never measured up.

  I considered settling down and getting more serious with someone, even if I wasn’t madly in love, but in the end, I preferred to be alone than with the wrong person. I’d figured I’d keep dating casually for years. Maybe the rest of my life.

  “I spent fifteen years in love with her,” I said quietly. “I’m not counting the first fifteen, even though my love was building the whole time. I was too young to recognize what it was. But the past fifteen years…”

  “I know, Leah, I know.”

  I hoped I wasn’t hurting her feelings. She was one of the people I just hadn’t felt that strongly about. As a friend, yes, but no more than that. Either way, the words wouldn’t seem to stop spilling out of me now that they’d started.

  “Then I finally had her, and it was everything I’d ever wanted and more.” My tears were drying as a soft warmth went through me at the memory. “It was so good, I should’ve known it couldn’t last. I thought it was too good to be true, and I was right.”

  “Leah, I hate to see you like this.” Neeta’s voice was way too sympathetic for my taste. “Have you ever thought maybe you were just enjoying being in a relationship for the first time? Maybe another girl could make you happy – not as happy, but close.”

  “No,” I snapped. “No other girl could. That’s not how it works when you found the one, okay? I know there’s no one else for me but Poppy. There’s no point in trying.”

  “Then what’s your plan?” she asked. “Because I feel bad for you, and I’ll try to make you feel better as much as I can, but all I see you doing right now is wallowing. You say you’d never get back with an ex, and you refuse to even consider being with anyone else. Are you really planning to be alone for the rest of your life?”

  She had a point, even if I refused to admit it. Maybe I’d be able to date again one day. Maybe it’d even be easier. I wouldn’t have Poppy at the back of my mind anymore since I’d already know things with her wouldn’t have worked out. But right now the pa
in was still too recent, too fresh, to even begin to think about anyone else.

  Turning away from her, I reached for my ice cream. “Just let me wallow,” I mumbled. “That’s all I’m asking you to do.”

  She patted my back again, and the note of irritation in her voice turned to gentleness again. “Then that’s what I’ll do.”

  Twenty-One – Poppy

  “Have a good night,” I called to my kids. “Remember to finish reading James and the Giant Peach tonight, because we’ll be talking about the ending tomorrow – spoiler alert!”

  I kept my game face on until the last kid was out of the door. Then I sank onto my chair, laying my head on my desk. I took a deep breath, my throat choking up as my eyes filled.

  It’d been like this ever since I came back to work on Tuesday. I could put on an act while my kids were in the room, their hyper energy bolstering me up, but as soon as I was alone, I collapsed into the same depression.

  I wanted to talk to Leah. I wanted to text her all day and Skype with her at night. I wanted to wait breathlessly for our next visit and let ecstasy take over me when I finally got to see her. My life didn’t feel right without her in it.

  I’d been okay without her before. I’d be okay again. It was just going to take a little time.

  “How long are you going to be like this?” Mary’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

  “Huh?” I turned my head so I could see her. I probably should’ve sat up, but I couldn’t quite find the willpower.

  She walked over and crouched next to me, her face at eye level with mine. “You’re a mess.”

  I wasn’t going to argue with that. I was just happy if I could keep the kids from figuring that out. “I just had a break-up. I think I’m allowed a little time to sulk.”

  “You broke up on Sunday, meaning it’s been almost a week. Not to mention it’s Friday, and you’re off for the weekend. You’d usually be racing out of here on your way to some party.”