Alex’s train arrived twenty minutes ago. She told me she’d come straight from the station which is a ten-minute walk. I sit on my couch trying to occupy my thoughts with reruns of Seinfeld which just happened to be playing when I turned on the TV. When that doesn’t work, I sign on to my online poker account and enter a tournament. But I lose three minutes later after going all-in with a 3/7 off-suit.
A stupid mistake not even a drunk rookie would make.
Someone should put a warning label on the home page of those sites.
DO NOT GAMBLE WHILE WAITING TO BREAK OFF YOUR ENGAGEMENT.
I’ve already sweated through two T-shirts and rolled on half a stick of deodorant. Why did this sound like such a better idea eight hours ago? Maybe because Lia was lying naked on top of me with her perfect breasts swelled against my chest, gazing into my eyes.
Thinking of Lia calms my nerves. I actually manage to take in a decent breath.
Lia is the one I’m meant to be with.
She’s the one who gets me. Who accepts me. Who laughs at my jokes.
Alex is...
Well, I just don’t know what she is.
I guess she’s someone who once fit into my life. A long time ago. When we were different. When we were both naïve. Both foolish and in love with being in love. In love with the drama of being in love.
Now we’re like misshapen puzzle pieces trying so desperately to stay interlocked, but the edges just don’t line up anymore.
Still, it doesn’t make this any easier.
I can repeat these things to myself over and over again until they become my mantra, but it doesn’t change the fact that in less than ten minutes I’m going to have to look Alex Smart in the eye and tell her that I can’t marry her.
That I can’t be with her.
That I don’t want to.
No doubt she’ll fight. She’ll throw things. She’ll scream. The neighbors will hear. Someone will call the cops again.
I’ll never forget that night four weeks ago. Alex came over to surprise me and I wasn’t here. Even though I told her I was going to be home alone. In truth, I was out drinking with some guys from work. But she always hated it when I went out drinking and didn’t invite her. So I lied. A tiny white lie that I never thought would come back to haunt me.
When I got home, drunk and staggering and smelling of smoke, she was there. Sober and pissed as hell. She screamed at me for what felt like hours. She threw my Pete Rose-signed baseball across the room, shattering a hanging mirror.
A knock came ten minutes later. Two police officers waited outside. They asked to speak to Alex alone in the hallway. I listened at the door as they questioned her about my “temper.” Did I ever hurt her? Did she feel like she was in danger?
I was so angry, I wanted to yank open the door and tell them that I was the one who felt endangered. That she was the one who couldn’t control her emotions.
I refused to speak to her for three days after that. I was so humiliated. The neighbors still haven’t looked at me the same way.
And now it’s about to happen all over again.
I suddenly have the crazy thought that I should hide all my heavy objects, put away anything sharp. Like I’m proofing the apartment for a visiting toddler. Not a grown woman. The thought solidifies my resolve.
I’m doing the right thing.
I’m doing what I should have done months ago.
Years ago.
How many hours of torment and bitter arguments and nights of simmering silence might I have saved if I’d recognized Alex’s tendencies back when I was seventeen? If I hadn’t let her sultry, bedroom eyes and long, tanned legs seduce me into an eight-year, on-again-off-again tornado?
But who am I kidding?
I was always putty in Alex’s hand. Or more accurately, when encircled by those legs.
My phone rings and I jump. I see Alex’s name on the screen and pick up.
“Is your key not working?”
She sounds harried and out of breath. “No, listen, you’ll never guess what. They’re sending me to San Francisco tonight.”
A giant hole opens up in the center of my chest. “What?”
She sighs. I hear a strange sound in the background that I can’t identify. She’s probably on the street trying to hail a cab. “Some fucking useless newbie fucked up and now RezTech is threatening to drop us. I have to fly out tonight and smooth everything over with the CEO, otherwise they’ll jump ship and hire another ad firm to handle their product launch.”
“Shit.”
“I know, baby. I’m so sorry. I was really looking forward to coming over tonight and just, you know, chilling.”
“Me, too.” My throat is tight, making the words sound thin.
“This weekend with my family really wore me out. Sorry they’re so spastic.”
“They were fine. I had a good time.”
Alex scoffs. “Yeah, right. My dad was all mopey and I don’t even know what was going on with Lia. She was acting strange the whole time.”
A cold sweat covers the back of my neck. “Really? I didn’t notice.”
“Well, whatever. I better go pack. My plane leaves in two hours.”
“When will you be back?”
She groans. “I don’t know. Two days. Maybe three. I’ll call you when I land. Love you.”
“Uh, yeah. Me, too,” I mumble and hang up the phone.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuckety FUCK!
I can’t wait two days. I can’t have this hanging over my head that long. Should I just call her back and tell her now?
Yeah, right.
Call off your engagement over the phone? As your fiancée is about to board a transcontinental flight?
Nice one, jackass.
No, I’m just going to have to wait until she gets back. It’s not ideal but I don’t really have a choice. Besides, it’s only two days. It’s not like forty-eight hours are going to change my mind.