Chapter 42
Reese
"How could he do this to me?” Sophia laments into the wad of tissues clenched in her hands. Totally at a loss for what to say, I rub soothing circles in her back and glance over at Nova for help. “How could he do this? To me? I mean—I know I'm not perfect,” she blows her nose then babbles on, “Sometimes I get a little bossy during sex. And I’m completely codependent when I have my period. And I spend way too much time on my eyebrows. But other than that, I'm a good person."
Her shoulders shake and white petals fall from the freesia arrangement in her hair. They land on the floor and are promptly crushed by the inebriated mass of bodies partying mere inches away, totally oblivious to the fact that this girl just got her heart gutted by the man she was ready to marry.
Nova sinks onto the barstool next to her, sliding yet another dirty martini Sophia's way. "You're definitely a good person, Soph! And if you've got to tell him what to do during sex then obviously he doesn't know how to use his tool...And people really underestimate the amount of work that goes into decent eyebrows."
Sophia nods shakily, expressing her agreement. "My mother will never look at me again. Never. She will disown me in shame."
"She wouldn't," I say reassuringly. I'm not sure though. Agata Gallo lives by her social status and this particular event does nothing to raise her profile.
“And of course, it’s all over Twitter because I hired a social media company…to live-tweet me getting stood up at the alter. I’m so humiliated.” She sobs harder. "I even bought the Instagram add-on."
At a loss for words, I just rub her back and share a sympathetic look with Nova.
A group of rowdy women in their early twenties rush the bar, laughing and having the time of their lives. They all wear identical black tank tops with gold lettering across the front. It’s supposed to be cute but I really hate them right now. I shoot an ugly scowl their way. “Oh excuse me!” the perky blonde wearing the veil and the black tank top with ‘BRIDE’ emblazoned across the front says. Her eyes catch on Sophia’s wedding gown and she gives my friend a pitying onceover and a "So sad..." before turning back to her party of giggly bridesmaids.
Less than 24 hours ago, that was us, innocuously enjoying Sophia’s classy-in-Las-Vegas bachelorette party. Now, here we are. Joshua didn’t even bother to show up at the church. Sophia is heartbroken and mortified, sitting at a bar getting drunk in her wedding dress. Nova looks like she’d readily perform a castration if she runs into the runaway groom right now. And then there’s Charlie.
Charlie looks pissed.
He’s always been protective of both Sophia and Nova, like they were his little sisters, too. He is definitely not happy with Josh right now. “If I get my hands on that fucking son of a bitch…” He punches his left fist into his right palm as he paces the floor in front of the bar.
Nova spins on her heels and charges at my brother. “Y’know what? Maybe if last night you had pulled your head out of that waterbag-breasted hussy's tits for five minutes and actually gone and talked to Joshua like we asked you to, this wouldn’t have happened!”
“I was on a date!” Charlie protests bitterly.
Nova rolls her eyes. “With a naked stripper at a bachelor party.”
“She wasn’t naked. She was wearing a dress," Charlie fights back.
“Made of see-through mesh,” Nova retorts.
“A breathable summer fabric!”
My friend’s eyeballs do a full rotation in their sockets. ”Please! I bet five dollars you can't even remember her name."
"That's not fair. I never asked."
Nova’s hand pops up like a stop sign. “I just can’t with you, Charlie. I just fucking can’t.”
The two of them continue to bicker. I turn away. I’m on the verge of tears. It's awful, seeing Sophia get stood up at her wedding. This day meant the world to her. She’d been planning it since the first time Josh kissed her back in the 8th grade. Her whole identity was wrapped up in becoming that douchebag’s wife. And for him to treat her like this. It shreds me.
Doesn’t he care how much she loves him?
But that's the thing with men. They don’t seem to understand just how deeply a woman can love. How far her committment can go. She could wholeheartedly invest herself only to have him get up and walk away without a moment of hesitation or of regret.
My mind replays Leo's handsome, expressionless face as he told me that distance is what’s best for us. He has no idea how much it pained me to hear those words fall from his lips. He changed his mind about us in the wink of an eye and I was the one left hurting.
But I can’t help but feel like all the pain I’m feeling right now is my fault. I need to learn when to walk away. Because some people don’t want to be saved. I’ve got to learn when to leave certain people behind in order to protect my heart.
As if just to hammer the point home, Martin materializes right in that moment.
Yes Martin—my show-tunes-loving ex-boyfriend.
He’s coming through the door of the bar wearing a palm-leaf turtleneck under sharply tailored navy blazer. His hair is brushed carefully off of his face and he takes neat little steps across the dance floor. His grey eyes scan the room and when he spots me, his face explodes into a huge smile.
"Reesie!" he exclaims as he throws himself at me and his arms swallow me up in a monster of a hug. He doesn't seem to notice that he's nearly toppled Sophia off of her barstool and as she sobs into her cocktail, she doesn't seem to notice either.
My gaze sweeps across my ex's refined face. He's darn handsome. A weird sense of jealousy courses through me when I realize that he'd put up some serious competition if we were ever out on the town trolling for cock together.
Really, Theresa?!
Instead of saying that out loud, I smooth down my messy hair and plaster a grin across my face. "Martin! What a coincidence running into you here!"
He gives me a sheepish look. "Not really a coincidence. I’ve been following the live-tweet. The hashtags pretty much led me all the way here." He glances over his shoulder at Sophia with a condolatory expression. "So sad…”
"Oh my god," I mutter. My mortification for Sophia grows.
But Martin has long moved on. He loops his arm through mine. "Walk with me."
“Well, I’m supposed to be looking out for Soph—"
He waves off my concern. “Oh honey, Sophia’s too spaced out to even realize you’re gone.”
Without giving me a chance to protest, he drags me through the crowd and out the door to the patio. There are less people here on the windy rooftop and the music is just a distant buzz.
We sit on the padded benches under the string lights and chitchat a bit about Martin's new role in the Vegas production of Grease and about some of the new recipes I'm working on for the cupcake shop. The conversation is light and the laughter comes easily as we have a few drinks. For a moment, I can breathe without the boot of depression pressing into my chest.
Eventually, the conversation turns to relationships. “So, are you seeing anyone?" Martin asks, nibbling on the edge of the straw in his pomegranate martini.
My shoulders sag when my mind wanders to Leo. "I had a…lover,” I confess sadly. "But that didn't work out." Now wanting his pity, I quickly change the subject. "How's Hans?" I’m not sure I possess the mental stability to withstand the stories of how nauseatingly in love they are. I brace myself.
But Martin's response is not at all what I'd expected. He rolls his eyes. "I left Hans," he announces, his expression schooled in impassivity.
I lay a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Martin."
He waves me off. "Hans is a sweater-vest-wearing, pseudo-intellectual closet-republican who's obsessed with CGI bukkake hentai porn. And he would be nothing without his sister’s Calvin Klein employee discount." Then he eyes me earnestly, "And honestly, you're the only person I've ever loved."
Screeeech! Hold up! What?!
Martin sets his glass aside and takes both of my hands in his. “That’s what I came here to tell you tonight, Reese. Leaving you was a mistake. I've thought of you every single day. You were right. I think this gay thing was a phase. I want you back. I'm not so sure I'm into guys anymore. I'm not gay."
When the words finally stop gushing out of his mouth I'm sitting there frozen. "I-I..."
"I know this is a bit much to digest all at once but the fire is still alive between us. You feel it, right?” He scoots closer and gives me his bedroom eyes. “We can take it slow. How about we go grab dinner and catch a Celine Dion show? Or Barbara Striesand is playing just around the block." He waggles his brows at the offer that I obviously can't refuse.
That’s when it dawns on me. “You cheated on him, didn’t you? You cheated on Hans!”
His shoulders drop in defeat. “If it makes you feel any better, it was with a woman.”
Uh, no it doesn’t make me feel any better.
I slide my hands out of his. "Martin, you're obviously confused. Not just about your sexuality but about the way life works in general."
He pleads. "But I'm sorry I left you. Nothing's ever been clearer to me."
I'd love to stay and continue this chat but...no. "Hun, in three months, you'll be saying the same thing about Hans." I rise to my feet and pivot in the direction of the dance floor.
Martin is pouting now. Like he always does when he doesn't get his way. "Please, Reesie?"
I glance over at Sophia. She's crying into another cocktail at the bar while a dimple-faced, muscle man is all up in her space, breathing down her neck. Meanwhile Nova is too busy arguing with Charlie to realize that our drunk and depressed friend is about to get fucked on the sticky counter in her wedding dress.
"It was really nice talking with you, Martin. But I need to be with my friends tonight. Goodbye."
"Don't you walk away from me, Theresa!" He says in a tight voice, glancing around embarrassedly to see if anyone's watching.
“You are a terrible person, Martin. Terrible in life and in bed. Hans is onto something. I’d rather watch computer-generated bukkake porn in a yuppie republican sweater vest for all of eternity than get back with you.”
As I stomp away, a smile overtakes my face. Martin is lost and he needs saving, but for once, I won’t be the one to try.