Am I a horrible person?
Maggie, my beagle puppy, looks at me lovingly from the passenger seat of my used Toyota. She doesn’t seem to think so.
“What would you know?” I mutter, turning the radio dial. “You’re a dog. You’d probably play fetch with a mass murderer.”
I had been driving since four a.m., when a strange panic overcame me and seemed to push me into my car and out onto the road, into the unknown. It had been as if a cage was slowly closing in around me, and I had only a split second to free myself before its door closed for good.
I had looked at Ben one last time before I left, expecting to find him sleeping in a blissful state of innocence, without even a hint of suspicion. Instead, he just lay there with his head smushed into the pillow, mouth hanging open, and letting out snores that could have come from a leaf blower. I don’t know if this made running easier or harder. Even in the midst of my initial guilt, that last image of him kind of killed the romance and daring of running away from your fiancé, making it feel more like a trip to the grocery store than a great escape.
I hadn’t left a note. I had wanted to...but what would I even say?
I couldn’t even explain this feeling to myself.
I was driving to Sabryna’s place in Seattle, because I didn’t really know where else to go. Sabryna had been my best friend in college, back in the days where we were both stressed out economics majors living off instant ramen and Taco Bell. We still kept in touch to some extent, but I had never been to visit her in her new home in the city. Sabryna worked as the top executive assistant to Johnathan Torver, billionaire and CEO of the prestigious Torver Corporation…and it was definitely not your typical secretary job. Johnathan Torver and his colleagues were completely loaded, and lived in the lap of luxury even inside the office. Sabryna may have the perks of gourmet food for lunch, but if she made even the smallest administrative error, it could be disastrous. But if anyone could do it, it was Sabryna—she had always been organized and calm under pressure.
I had to admit that part of my reason for driving to her place was to satisfy my curiosity towards her new life. Her Instagram posts were filled with pictures of glamorous office parties on yachts, complete with string quartets and caviar appetizers that were intimidating just to look at. It was hard to imagine that the girl who used to stock up on Ramen at CVS with me was already living this kind of life, and even I had to admit that I was a bit jealous. I hoped she wouldn’t turn me away…especially after she heard what I did to Ben.
I pulled into a gas station to refill my tank and to grab some snacks. There was only about an hour’s drive left to the city, but I was famished and there was always the risk that Sabryna wouldn’t be home or that she would have a despairingly empty fridge.
I walked into the convenience store part of the gas station, legs wobbly from the long drive. The store smelled like old fried food and plastic, and it felt suffocating after the air of the open road. I grabbed a bag of Cheetos, a Snickers bar, and a coke and walked up to the counter, where a teenage boy was flipping through a magazine.
“Just this please,” I said with a smile, and I watched as the boy scanned the items, and then me, with a quizzical look on his face.
“You’re not from Seattle, are you?” he said, rather bluntly.
“Um, no,” I said, a bit embarrassed. “I’m driving here from South Dakota. Visiting a friend.”
“So, people really do live in South Dakota?”
I winced at the comment. “In my experience, yes,” I snapped at him. I grabbed my snacks and turned back to the car. I looked down at my outfit and realized that maybe I should have put in a bit more of an effort to dress more cosmopolitan. I wore a ruffled pink dress and my short brown leather boots, and I looked more like a country girl than ever. Sabryna wouldn’t mind, but if I happened to meet any of her colleagues from the Torver Corporation, they certainly would. At the beginning of her job, Sabryna had told me dozens of funny stories about their snobbishness.
Maggie was curled up in a ball on the passenger seat when I got back, taking an afternoon doze in the sun coming through the open windows. It amazed me how unfazed she was by our day’s adventure—she simply sniffed at the Snicker’s bar and went back to sleep, unaware of the feeling of impending chaos that I felt at every moment.
My phone sat in one of the cup holders, glaring at me menacingly from its blue and white case. It was turned off, and I was terrified for the moment when I’d be forced to switch it on again. I imagined the phone beeping and vibrating as it loaded call after text after frantic voicemail from Ben—only worried, but never suspicious or angry, at my leaving. The guilt would be overwhelming.
I turned out of the gas station and back onto the main road, watching as the signs signaled that I was getting closer and closer to Seattle. It was a strangely sunny day for the Pacific Northwest, and I almost found myself wishing for rain, as if the gloominess would help my guilt feel more natural.
It struck me suddenly that this was the first bad thing that I had ever done.
***
I felt myself tense up as I arrived within the confines of the city—the griminess was nearly unbearable, and the driving was terrifying—cars and taxis were racing to get to their respective destinations, crammed together on streets too old and skinny for modern-day traffic congestion. Sabryna’s apartment was in the nicer, downtown area near the Torver offices, and I was relieved to get there as evening began to fall on Seattle.
I parked in a garage near Sabryna’s apartment and bought a bouquet of pink carnations from a haggard looking man on a street corner. If I was going to show up unannounced, I may as well bring something resembling a hostess gift.
I stumbled up into the elevator, Maggie in tow, my hands sweating from the nerves. I still considered Sabryna one of my best friends, and she was always kind and welcoming, and would understand, and wouldn’t mind having Maggie because she loved dogs, and…
Ugh, crap.
I stepped out of the elevator onto the fifth floor and took a deep breath, and then finally reached up to knock on Sabryna’s door.
Sabryna cracked the door open. “Eliza? Eliza Cameron?” she laughed and pulled me in for a hug. “What on earth are you doing here at this hour?”
“It’s kind of a long story,” I said, holding Maggie back by her leash as she jumped up to greet Sabryna. “I was sort of hoping you might let me stay here for a bit.”
“Of course, honey!” Sabryna said, wandering back inside. “I’ve missed you, it’ll be fun.” I let out a sigh of relief, but I still felt horribly guilty crashing at her place like this. Hopefully I could find some way to make it up to her.
I sat down carefully on her couch, Maggie curled in my lap, as Sabryna uncorked a bottle of red wine that had been sitting on the counter and began to pour. She was in an expensive looking pink silk bathrobe with flowers embroidered on it, and a book lay open on the coffee table. I hoped I wasn’t interrupting her relaxation time after what was probably a grueling day at the Torver Corporation office.
“Drink, talk.” Sabryna commanded, handing me a glass, and I sipped it down gratefully. One of the wonderful things about Sabryna was that she always sensed what you needed, whether it was a glass of wine and space to confess for me, or a glass of brandy and new pens for Johnathan Torver. I sighed and began.
“Well,” I said. “I started driving here at four this morning, and I…” I took another gulp of wine. “…and I don’t really know why.”
Sabryna looked at me skeptically, and it struck me that she could have made a brilliant therapist. “You know why.”
I bit my lip and looked down. “I think I’m having doubts…about Ben. And about the wedding.”
“Ah…” Sabryna said. “What kind of doubts?”
The specificity of her question alarmed me. “To be honest, Sabryna…I don’t really know. Ben is perfect. He really is. He’s always been so kind and supportive of me, always, but—”
“Sometimes,” Sabryna said, resting her feet on the ottoman. “It’s not about what’s wrong, it’s about what isn’t right.”
“Yeah,” I said.
“I don’t mean to interfere too much, and don’t take this the wrong way,” Sabryna said. “But you haven’t dated all that much, and you’re still young. Heck, last time I heard, you were still a virgin. There’s a big world out there filled with all sorts of different men, and maybe you need to…I don’t know, sow your wild oats a bit before you settle down.”
“Goodness,” I said, giggling.
“I’m serious!” Sabryna said. “I only met Ben once, when I visited you last summer, and he was just a bit…bland, you know? He didn’t challenge you, he didn’t make you better. There was no…spark.”
I sat back in a bit of a trance, shocked from her honesty.
“I’m sorry,” Sabryna said, shaking her head. “I’ve said too much.”
“No, no, you’re right,” I said, feeling the weight of all she said solidify in my brain. “I do think I ran because of a sort of…lack of something.”
“Hm…” Sabryna said.
“I’m being silly,” I said, suddenly getting up to pace around the room. “I need to go back. I need to marry him.”
“Okay, no, no, no,” Sabryna said, getting up to follow me. “You marry Ben because you want to, not because you have to.”
“But don’t you see?” I said, wringing my hands together. “I do have to! Ben’s been so good to me, and I may never find a man who’s that nice to me again, and everyone back home is excited for the wedding, and I—”
“Okay, absolutely not, Eliza,” Sabryna said, practically pulling me onto the couch with her. “You don’t owe that man shit. You understand me? You don’t marry a man just because he’s nice and treats you with respect. Everyone should be nice and treat you with respect. Nice is not your bare minimum. You don’t marry someone unless they make your heart race like nobody else. Okay?”
I stared back at Sabryna, breathless. “Okay,” I muttered, but I was only just getting used to the idea.
“I’m getting you some more wine,” Sabryna said, and walked back into the kitchen to fetch the bottle.