Chapter 8: Aiden

 

 

 

I was enjoying the calm after the storm of Chelsea leaving, but I would’ve been enjoying it more if Lucy would answer my damn text.

 

I slid a few slices of leftover pizza onto a plate and made my way over to the couch, trying to figure out why I felt like shit.

 

Sure, Chelsea was gone, and she’d been my biggest problem for a while, but as I let my mind wander to the women I’d dated before her, I couldn’t help but feel that a disturbing pattern had emerged.

 

They were all models, as Lucy had been all too happy to point out, but that wasn’t the only thing they had in common. Each one of them had been extremely vain. Now I realize their jobs demanded that, but surely there were attractive women out there that weren’t insufferably shallow about their appearance and how other people looked.

 

The other thing that was grating on me was that they all had a sense of entitlement that rubbed me the wrong way. Of course, I hadn’t realized that when I first started dating any of them, but as I got to know them, it was obvious that they believed things should be handed to them just because.

 

And I was sick of my generosity being taken advantage of.

 

Worst of all, I couldn’t get the nasty shit Chelsea said out of my head. Was I really too nice? Did I make it easy to cheat? Had my other girlfriends cheated on me without my knowing?

 

I put my empty plate down on the coffee table and took a deep breath. I didn’t want to be a jealous guy. I knew that jealousy was a slippery slope, that it fed on itself. And I knew from experience that dating someone who was jealous was exhausting.

 

A few years ago, I went out with a girl who was so suspicious it made me feel like I was constantly being punished for things I didn’t do. It made me feel like I might as well give her a reason to freak out if she was going to anyway.

 

But I would never cheat. Not after I saw what it did to my Mom when my Dad strayed back when Claire and I were in high school. It nearly tore the family apart. We never talked about it then. Instead, we just watched this crack in the ground get bigger and bigger under our family.

 

Fortunately, my parents got their act together. It wasn’t until years later that anyone even mentioned it, and even then, it was only ever my Mom when she’d had a few drinks.

 

She never bitched to Claire about it, though, cause Claire was Daddy’s little girl and refused to indulge her drunken rants. So it was always me, but I figured if she needed to express her pain to someone, I was doing the whole family a favor by making sure it was me she opened up to instead of anyone else.

 

Meanwhile, my Dad had never breathed a word about it to me, and I couldn’t help but think he was sort of a prick for that. In my opinion, he owed us all an apology, but the important thing was that they got through it somehow.

 

Even though it took longer for my Mom than anyone.

 

A second later, the phone rang on the table. I hoped it was Lucy, but when I picked it up, I saw it was my Mom. I wasn’t really in the mood to talk to her, but I doubted that would change anytime soon so I answered it.

 

“Hi Mom. I was just thinking about you.”

 

“Aren’t you sweet?”

 

“What’s up?”

 

“I’m just calling to make sure you and Chelsea are still on for dinner next weekend.”

 

I sighed. What was it about my Mother that made her able to sense when I had news, especially news I was in no hurry to tell her? “Chelsea can’t come.”

 

“Why not? Is she okay?” My Mother asked, as if only illness or tragedy would keep someone from one of her dinner parties.

 

“We broke up.”

 

“What?! Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“Cause it just happened last night.”

 

“I thought things were going so well.”

 

“They weren’t.”

 

“What happened?”

 

I couldn’t tell her the truth. It was too much of a complicated mess and the last thing I needed was her insisting she knew how I felt. “I just don’t love her anymore.”

 

“Is she okay?”

 

I rolled my eyes. “She’s fine. She’s much better off not wasting her time with me.”

 

“I don’t know what to say, honey. I thought she was The One.”

 

“You think they’re all The One.”

 

“No, but I mean Chelsea was really sophisticated. I thought you guys had a future.”

 

“Well, she’s not as sophisticated as you might think, and we don’t.” I stood up and carried my plate over to grab the last few slices of pizza. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

 

“You don’t even seem upset about it.”

 

I shrugged and returned to the couch. “I’m not really. It was a long way coming.”

 

“I had no idea you guys were unhappy.”

 

“I think it was just me,” I said, “but I’m over it.”

 

“Does that mean she’s not going to be your date for Claire’s wedding?”

 

“I guess so.” I put the phone on speaker and separated two pieces of pizza. “And I’d appreciate if you wouldn’t keep in touch with her.”

 

When she didn’t say anything, I picked up the phone and turned it off speaker. “Mom, did you hear me?”

 

“Sorry, what?”

 

“I don’t want you to be friends with Chelsea anymore. I know you guys like the same designers and crap, but it’s not appropriate. You have your own friends.”

 

“You can’t expect me to be rude if I run into her-”

 

“No,” I said, wondering if I should’ve told her exactly how unsophisticated she was. “But you don’t need to be overly friendly.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Your father is going to be disappointed.”

 

“Not if you tell him what a big spender she was.”

 

“I’ll be sure to mention it.”

 

“Do.”

 

“So will you be coming to dinner on your own then?”

 

“I don’t think so,” I said. “I’m not really in the mood to socialize.”

 

“You have a week to get in the mood.”

 

“I’m not making any promises.”

 

“But your sister and Dave are coming.”

 

“They’ll understand.”

 

“Well, I expect you to be here, unless you have a date or something.”

 

I popped the last piece of crust in my mouth.

 

“Not that you couldn’t bring a date.”

 

“Thanks, I’ll let you know. I gotta go.”

 

“One more thing.”

 

“What?” I asked.

 

“Your Father said you were very short with him when you stopped by to see him at the office.”

 

“You mean when he failed to acknowledge the fact that I’m opening my own business for the hundredth time.”

 

“He’s only trying to help, Aiden.”

 

“I don’t need his help, Mom. I need him to take me seriously.”

 

“He does take you seriously.”

 

“No he doesn’t. Look- it doesn’t matter. The point is, I wasn’t being short with him and neither of you needs to worry about me.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Bye, Mom.”

 

“Bye, honey.”

 

I tossed the phone on the couch and decided to give Lucy thirty minutes to call me back.

 

If she did, we’d go get ice cream.

 

If she didn’t, I’d go get drunk.