“Ten more seconds,” Ian said.
I spoke faster, my words blending into each other in my rush to get them all out. “I love you, Judi. The kind of connection we have doesn’t come along every day. I can’t apologize enough for being dishonest with you. If you give me another chance – ”
“Time’s up.” Ian stepped toward us. “Or did you want to give her more time, Judi, honey?”
She hesitated, her eyes searching mine. I didn’t know what she was looking for, but I looked straight back at her, begging her silently to accept my apology. I didn’t want to go on without her. I couldn’t.
“No,” she finally said. Her eyes stayed on mine, holding me transfixed in her gaze.
“No?” I whispered.
Slowly, she shook her head. “No, Ella. I’m done.”
*
She was done. The words echoed in my mind as I drove home, my heart hollow. They stayed there as I shook my head silently at Sam’s questioning glance, and as Mom quietly turned away from Coco.
I still thought about Judi as I went to work the next day and came home. When I went out with my friends, when I lay in bed at night, she was on my mind. Always.
I didn’t call her again. That would’ve been too pushy of me. She’d told me how she felt, and if I were to keep going after that, I would’ve been asking for a restraining order. Things weren’t meant to be for us, and I had to accept that.
Even if they would’ve been meant to be if I hadn’t so completely fucked up.
“It’s not your fault,” I told Sam, who’d been apologizing nonstop since the break-up. “It’s mine. I agreed to text her and help you. You just had the idea – I went through with it. And I’m the one who kept it from her for so long, even though I was in a relationship with her.”
“I know, but I can’t help but blame myself. If I hadn’t gone to you, you would’ve met Judi and dated her without any issues.”
“Look, you’re my little brother. I love that you come to me for help. I never want you to stop.” I paused and made a face. “Just, maybe not for help about girls.”
“I definitely won’t!”
Later, Mom had a talk with Coco, as she’d promised. I didn’t know exactly what she said, but a day afterwards, Coco came to me with a downcast look. “I’m sorry I told Judi what you did,” she said. “I only did it because I was mad. I didn’t know she’d break up with you or that you’d be sad. I want you to be happy again, Ella.”
I gave her a hug and told her it was okay. “If it wasn’t you, she would’ve found out some other way. Lying will do that to you.”
During Mom’s talk with me and Sam, she told us she didn’t appreciate our dishonesty and we should’ve known nothing good would come from this situation. She thought she’d raised us to be smarter than that.
If she hoped to give us any fresh insights, she failed. All we did was nod along and say, “Yes. You’re right. I already know.”
Another week passed, and it was time for the Pride planning meeting. I showed up, as usual. I pulled my chair closer to my subcommittee’s group, farther away from Judi. I focused on what they were saying about our fundraising efforts.
And I tried my hardest not to look her way.
Twenty-Four – Judi
Ella was leaving me alone, which was great. Really great. So what if she’d left a massive hole in my heart that no amount of wine could fill?
She’d hurt me, and I wasn’t going to run back to someone who could put me through that much pain. We’d only dated for a couple of months, only been official for a week. I should be over her soon.
And yet, even after a month had gone by, I definitely wasn’t.
“Are you still moping over that girl?” Chelle asked one night after I said no to going out with her and Sabrina. “You need to stop thinking about her. You broke up with her, remember?”
“All too well,” I groaned, lying back on the couch and pulling the blanket over me. “This would’ve been easier if she’d broken up with me. That way I’d be able to move on, rather than constantly second-guessing whether I did the right thing.”
“Come out and meet some new people,” she urged. “Once you get a new crush, you’ll be like, ‘Ella who?’”
I chuckled. “Not likely.” Ella had blown my mind in more ways than one. Even if I never spoke to her again, even if everyone around me forgot she’d ever existed, she’d left an indelible impression on me. I could never, ever forget her.
“Judi…” Chelle perched on the edge of the couch, next to my thighs. “I’m sick of seeing you like this. Spring has sprung. The weather’s finally getting nice. I want to enjoy this time of year, and frankly, you’re bringing me down.”
“Sorry I can’t choose my emotions,” I snarked. “I’ll go lock myself in my room so I won’t depress you anymore.”
“Come on. You know that’s not what I’m saying.” She squeezed my shoulder. “I’d like you to come out and have a good time tonight – or at least try. Please?”
I rolled onto my side, facing the wall. “I’m not up for it. I’m sorry.”
I had big plans tonight… with myself. I intended to curl up with some chamomile tea and watch a history documentary. The kind of doc that Ella would’ve loved, if she’d been here to watch it with me.
“All right, I guess.” Chelle’s voice was filled with frustration. “Suit yourself – but whenever you’re up for acting like yourself again, I’ll be here.”
I let out a sigh. I hated disappointing her. She was one of my best friends. But I couldn’t snap my fingers and feel better about the whole Ella thing. It just wasn’t possible.
“You know, if you’re still feeling this bad about the break-up now that a whole month has passed, maybe you really loved her,” Chelle said quietly.
I tensed up. “Of course I really loved her,” I snapped. “That was never the question. Have you listened to me talk about this relationship at all? The issue was that she lied to me from day one. How could I ever trust her again?” My voice rose. “What else would she lie to me about?”
“Whoa, chill out,” Chelle said. “I’m not the one who hurt you.”
That was true. Ella was.
And that was why I couldn’t take her back.
*
As March turned to April, my feelings for Ella didn’t fade. The only thing that changed was that people asked me about her less. My friends and family seemed to have accepted that this grouchy, sulky Judi was the new me. It was as if they’d forgotten the different person I’d been when I was with her. The different person I could still be.
I tried to get her off my mind, and sometimes I even came close. Once, a cute customer flirted with me at the coffee shop, and I almost – but didn’t – give him my number. Another time, Ian tried to talk me into a blind date with a cute single lesbian he’d encountered. I considered it for a while, but ultimately told him no.
I couldn’t forget Ella completely when I still had to see her every other week. Even if I avoided looking at her at the meetings, I could see her in my peripheral vision. Sometimes I even caught a whiff of her floral scent. Every time, my heart grew heavy. It didn’t feel right to be in the same room with her and to not have her in my arms.
Ian had supported me through the break-up without even knowing what’d happened, and when I’d told him the details, he was on my side. Now that she’d accepted the split, he’d gone back to being friends with her.
I couldn’t say anything about it – he shouldn’t have to choose between us, especially when he’d known us both separately before we’d dated. Still, it made me uncomfortable. He might’ve been sneakily telling her some of the things I said, the same way he occasionally dropped tidbits about her when he spoke to me.
“Ella’s going to Denver this weekend,” he said casually one Friday, as if the sound of her name didn’t stab me straight in the soul. “Didn’t you two go there once?”
Only for the most magical weekend ever. “Um, yeah,” I mumbled. “W
e did.”
Who was she going there with? What was she going to do there? Would she spend her entire time there thinking about me, the way I would’ve if I went?
I wanted to know everything about her trip, but… You’re the one who broke up with her, Judi. I forced a smile and changed the subject.
One of these days, he’d tell me she was dating someone else. I knew that was coming. When someone was as beautiful as her, with such an incredible personality, they wouldn’t stay single for long. I might’ve been Ella’s first relationship, but I wouldn’t be her last. And because Ian clearly had no idea how intense our relationship had been – how deeply I’d fallen for her in the short time that we’d dated – he’d have no qualms about telling me.
Sometimes it felt like the world was conspiring to push Ella in my face. As soon as one Pride meeting began, Todd directed our attention toward her. “Let’s all give Ella a hand,” he said. “She’s contacted over fifty companies in the area, of which more than ten have agreed to donate. Today she got our biggest donation yet – ten thousand dollars from Ranford Bank. That will pay for the stage, tents, speakers, and stereo equipment all by itself!”
Everyone applauded, yelling out compliments to Ella about how awesome she was. I sank down in my chair, lightly tapping my hands together, looking anywhere but at Ella.
Calling that many companies had taken a lot of time, determination, and bravery – not to mention the persistence and persuasiveness it must’ve taken to talk them into actually donating. I hoped she knew my weak hand claps were sincere – that I really was impressed by her accomplishment.
She’d done a great job. She was awesome.
But the good things about her didn’t outweigh the bad… did they?
Twenty-Five – Ella
Life had to go on without Judi. As miserable as I was, the world didn’t stop turning because my heart was broken. I still had to go to work every day. Still had to eat, sleep, and drink water. And although it was hard, as the weeks passed it became a little easier.
Over and over, I thought through what’d happened between me and Judi, and why. I sifted through the thoughts until my disappointment and hurt went away and I could look at the situation clear-eyed.
I’d fucked up by being dishonest. I’d kept telling myself it wasn’t a big deal when the whole time, I’d known it was. But I kept lying anyway out of my desire to avoid conflict. My obligation to Sam conflicted with my obligation to Judi, and instead of facing that clash head-on, I tried to pretend it didn’t exist.
Now honesty became my new policy. I told library patrons who wanted an obscure book that we were never going to order it and that they’d be better off getting it from Amazon. Before, I would’ve hemmed and hawed around the issue, making them think they had a chance rather than giving a flat-out “no.”
I told Sam he was being a dipshit when he described how he was coasting by at work and letting his female colleagues carry him. I told the waitress at a restaurant that my chicken was undercooked and requested a new one. I even told my boss I’d gotten to work late instead of pretending I’d been on time.
The more honest I was, the better I felt. I never had to worry about being caught out or contradicting myself. And even my smallest white lies, the ones I’d barely thought twice about telling, had weighed on me. Now my conscience was clear.
Before, I’d worried that honesty could hurt people. The longer I strove to be honest at all times, the more I saw that was false. Being truthful didn’t mean being rude or abrupt. As long as I delivered the truth gently and thoughtfully, people took it better than I expected. And as time went on, they got used to knowing they could expect the full and complete truth from me.
I’d never thought little white lies could hurt anyone, and I still wasn’t convinced they didn’t have their place. But small lies could turn into big ones, and I wasn’t willing to take that chance anymore. Maybe with strangers, but not my family and close friends. I valued those relationships far too much to risk losing them.
The only bad thing was that I’d learned this lesson too late. I’d thought telling Judi the truth would ruin everything, and my lies ruined things instead. I’d lost the woman I valued more than anything, and there was no way for me to undo that. I kept thinking back to the early days of our relationship, contemplating all the times I could’ve opened up about what I’d done, all the times I’d chosen to hide the truth instead. If I could go back, I’d do everything completely differently.
But it wasn’t possible to turn back time.
Never had been, never would be.
I’d made mistakes, and I had to live with them. My only comfort was that at least I’d learned from them.
*
As time went by, I began to think about dating again. Or rather, I began to give in to Deena and Mindy, who were constantly harassing me to give online dating a try.
I’d been so happy with Judi. Happier than I’d been in my life… happier than I’d even imagined. Being with her had felt easy and natural, and I was pretty sure she’d felt the same way. I’d seen how wonderful being part of a couple could be, and I longed to feel that way again. Preferably with Judi, but since she wouldn’t give me another chance, it’d have to be with somebody else.
I was still scared that I’d fuck up again and do something terrible to drive a new girl away. But I was a better person now than I was when I’d met Judi, and now I knew how much love I had to give. I was getting tired of keeping all that love to myself.
“I think I’m ready,” I told my friends one night in mid-May over drinks at our usual spot. “You two are going to have to show me how it’s done.” I set my phone on the table.
“We can make you a TruLuv account?” Deena squealed.
Somberly, I nodded.
“Show some enthusiasm,” Mindy said, grabbing my phone. “This is the best possible way to find a girlfriend these days. I know so many couples who’ve met on TruLuv. You’ll be in a relationship in no time.”
“I doubt that,” I said. “I’ll probably get a date or two, at best. Don’t all the girls on these apps live in Denver, anyway? They’re not going to want to come out here and see me.”
“Not with that attitude, they won’t.” Deena rolled her eyes.
Mindy was busy setting up a profile for me. “Okay, I know your name, obviously. And you’re a woman seeking a woman. Let’s pick some pictures for you. And how would you describe yourself?”
I sighed. “Nerdy librarian, homebody, still broken-hearted over her last short-term relationship…”
Deena coughed. “You were off to a good start. Try again.”
“Um… nerdy librarian… wears glasses…”
“Wearing glasses isn’t a personality trait,” Mindy said. “Sell yourself!”
“I don’t know!” I said. “I feel like I’m writing a resume or something.”
“You are,” she said. “You’re trying to get hired for the role of ‘girlfriend.’”
But the only girlfriend I wanted was Judi. I sighed again, harder this time. “Can’t you write it for me?”
She huffed, but bent over the phone and conferred with Deena in low tones for a minute. I sipped my beer and waited, wondering how long they were going to take.
In no time at all, they looked up and pushed the phone back over to me. “What do you think of this?” Mindy asked.
Seeking the real thing, and nothing less. Smart and funny – I won’t admit it, but my friends will tell you. Sweet, caring, and considerate – and surprisingly passionate too. I work as a librarian, but I’m so much more than books. Hoping to find someone I can share my life with. When I fall, I fall hard! Could you be the one that I fall for?
I blinked. “I don’t know about this. It doesn’t sound like me.”
“It’s exactly you,” Deena said. “I’m going to post it.”
“Wait, no.” I reached for the phone. “Wait… just the ‘passionate’ part – I don’t want people to get the wrong idea…”
“Too late,” she said. “It’s done. Oh, look at this! There’s another user just a few miles from here. So much for having to get girls to drive down from Denver.”
“Let’s check her out,” Mindy said. “She could be the one.”
She leaned over Deena’s shoulder and tapped on the screen. Immediately, both of their expressions turned to horror. “Never mind,” Deena said, quickly turning off the phone screen. “Denver’s not so far. I used to go up there for dates all the time.”
“Why are you acting like that?” I asked. “What is it?”
We had a quick struggle for the phone, and finally it landed in my lap. I turned the screen back on, even though I already had an idea of what they might’ve seen. There was only one profile that would’ve made them react like that.
My heart clenched into a tight fist as Judi’s face filled the display.
What was she doing on a dating app? Had she been so quick to move on? Was she meeting girls? Dating them? Did she have a new partner now? Did she even remember my name?
“Are you okay, Ella?” Mindy asked softly. “You look like you’re about to be sick.”
“I’m fine,” I gritted out. “Just… delete my profile. Delete everything. I don’t think I’m ready to date again after all.”
Twenty-Six – Judi
My phone vibrated in my apron as I handed a latte to a customer. The coffee shop was slow enough that I took a minute to check the message. I didn’t know who would be texting me right now. I didn’t get a lot of texts lately – not since I broke up with Ella.
As it turned out, there was no text. The alert was because someone matching my criteria had just signed up on TruLuv. A woman seeking women within a twenty-five mile radius? I clicked eagerly, curious to see how old she was and what she’d written about herself.
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