“YOU’RE DRESSED A LITTLE TOO nice for this place,” Darby observed as she breezed into the research lab to pick up her stuff. Unlike Darby, who was dressed in their standard lab coat and scrubs, Rich wore what looked to be a very nice suit.
Darby shrugged out of her lab coat and slipped into the supply room, where she had stashed some clothes for after work.
“Headed out to an important meeting?” she asked loudly enough for him to hear. She’d kicked off her clogs and peeled off her scrubs, but he still hadn’t said a word. Peeking only her head out, since she was down to her bra and underwear, she looked to see what was the matter.
Rich wasn’t just sitting in his chair; he was staring dejectedly at a manila folder that sat upon the desk.
“Hey…are you okay?” she asked, starting to become concerned. She wondered if he even heard her.
“Not headed anywhere…” he explained, still staring at the folder. “Coming from the attorney’s office actually.”
He looked up at her then.
“We signed the papers today,” he said. “Lindsay and I are officially divorced.”
She cast him a sympathetic look, the best she could do given her current state of undress, then disappeared back into the supply room to finish dressing. She pulled on her dark skinny jeans and stylish brown boots, and slipped a pretty silk green blouse over her head. When she emerged, he hadn’t moved.
“What are you doing tonight?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
“Going home to my shitty little flat. Getting pissed. Regretting my life choices,” he said miserably.
“No you’re not,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him up out of his chair. “You’re coming to the bar and getting drunk with me and Anne.”
Half an hour later, he was, indeed on his way to getting drunk. Darby and Anne were barely halfway through their first drinks, and he was ordering his third. She couldn’t blame him. Today would surely rank as one of the worst days of his life. Love was a messy business. Sometimes getting shit-faced was the only thing left to do.
“I was so sure about everything,” he lamented, as close to crying as she had ever seen him. “Until I walked into the room. I went through with it…obviously, but—” he sighed heavily. “I think I might have made a huge mistake.”
“Maybe you did,” Anne murmured darkly, and Darby shot her a look. Her friend was still bitter over her own girlfriend leaving her even though by then it had been months.
“It’s not supposed to feel good,” Darby said, turning her attention back to Rich. “Breakups never do. And since you were married, this will probably be the biggest breakup of your life. If you didn’t feel ambiguous about it, that would be even worse. It would mean you never should have been together to begin with.”
He ran his fingers through his hair, still looking distraught. He seemed relieved when the waiter arrived then and set another beer in front of him. He took a huge gulp, and trained his eyes back on Darby.
“Why aren’t you married, Darbs?” he asked so bluntly that she knew he must already be drunk.
“Marriage isn’t for everyone,” she said simply, prepared to repeat the speech she’d already given him, if needed. “It’s just not a priority for me.”
“But don’t you want someone to love you? To take care of you?” he implored.
“I have friends for that,” she replied simply.
“That’s not the kind of love I’m talking about,” he said seriously.
“I have friends for that, too,” she revealed, taking a long sip of her sidecar.
When she looked back up at him, she saw that his eyes had widened. “I knew it,” he nearly accused.
She threw up her hands then. “Fine…you caught me,” she said. “I have amazing sex with someone who will never be my boyfriend or my husband. You say it like it’s something dirty but there’s nothing wrong with it. If you want to know the truth, it’s the best relationship I’ve ever been in.”
It was true. And she’d known it for a while.
“Except it’s not a relationship,” Rich countered. Anne watched their verbal volley with interest.
“All a relationship is, is two consenting adults who have agreed on the rules,” Darby returned easily. “The rules aren’t the same for everyone. And why should they be?”
She didn’t mention that her relationship was turning out better than both Anne’s or Rich’s had. While they had hung their hopes on forever, she had always known that her relationship with Michael would come to an end.
“But isn’t it empty?” Rich asked, a bit sadly. “Sex isn’t love.”
She shook her head in agreement.
“No,” she admitted. “It isn’t. But sex doesn’t have to be empty. It can be rich and wonderful. It can fulfill deep needs and serve a purpose in your life without being tied to how long you plan to be together, and under what circumstances.”
She thought of “Before Sunrise” then, of the one-night stand that never stood a chance to become a real relationship, but that still meant something important to the characters who lived it.
“Sex can give love, even if that love doesn’t culminate in a traditional relationship,” she continued. “The act of long-term commitment isn’t the important part—the love is,” she finished softly.
By then, both Anne and Rich were looking at her, taking in what she realized must sound like a passionate plea for understanding. It was also her first out loud confession that whatever she was caught up in was more than just sex. And it made her heartbeat quicken.
“What happens when it ends?” Anne wanted to know then, talking outside the realm of what Rich knew.
“I walk away,” she said, looking at her friend in earnest, “and feel gratitude for having had something so good.”
Anne nodded, the look in her eyes changing, and in that moment, Darby knew that her friend finally got it. Just because she and Michael meant something to one another didn’t mean that what they had was meant to last.
“I envy you,” Anne said softly, when Rich’s three beers had finally caught up to his bladder. When she said it, his retreating form was headed to the bathroom. “Do I ever get to meet this guy?”
Darby smiled wanly and nodded. “Soon.”