The Lies We Tell

by Butler, Brittany

  I shrug my shoulders. “If that’s how it works out. We’re just going with the flow.”

  Ashlynn smiles awkwardly, but she doesn’t say anything else. Instead, she shows me more pictures of her kids. I look at every one of them and listen to her as she tells me the stories behind them.

  We’ve been at the restaurant for an hour and seventeen minutes. Not that I am counting or anything. I’ve been in Tyler for six days. I am also not counting that. I wonder if I’ve overstayed my time as I listen to my college friends constant chatting. If she tells me about another Pinterest board, I will die.

  The only that is saving me my margarita and the endless supply of chips and salsa. I thank God for my metabolism every day. I am a stress eater, and it could be bad. I am currently stressed about my unfulfilled life. I should live in the suburbs, have three kids, and be happily married. No, Ashlynn, what I should be is drunk.

  “So, you are like, famous now,” Ashlynn says, flipping her red hair to the side. She’s finally intrigued by my life. She’s nothing like she was in college. Or maybe it is me that has changed. I count my eyes to the side, thinking.

  “Not at all; I was the brain behind one famous story. No one knows my face,” I say.

  That seemed to bore her. She began chatting with Marcus about something their daughter said, and I zone out. They have been married for four years, they have a house with a picket fence, and she's obsessed with Pinterest. For the past hour, I've listened to her talk about where her two point five kids will attend school.

  Everything I see and everything I hear makes me wonder if that’s what my life would’ve been like if I had only stayed. I yawn, growing bored. Whatever my current situation is, I am glad I don’t have my old life.

  I look at Jack, who is looking at me. He was right to be hesitant about bringing me along. I wonder if they were always braggy and flashy about their perfect marriage and perfect life. Why did he still hang out with them? Was he that bored?

  I was thankful when we said our goodbyes. We both did the fake adult thing where we said we want to hang out again, but we don’t ever get around to it. When we arrived back at his house, I let out a groan. I unclip my seatbelt and walk toward my car.

  “Sorry about tonight,” Jack says.

  “I’ll trust you from now on,” I say over my shoulder as I open my door.

  “They are not that bad usually…Ashlynn was trying to compete with you.”

  “I barely spoke a word,” I say in defense. Compete with me?

  “We hear about your life all the time, Natalie. You don’t have to say anything to be intimidating.”

  I nod my head once. I guess from the outside, that makes sense. I don’t think people would be envious if they knew what it was really like for me.

  “Thanks for taking me.”

  “You wanna come in?” He asks as he shoves his hands in his pocket.

  “I need to get back,” I say. I don’t have anywhere to go, but I don’t feel comfortable being alone with him tonight. It isn’t the right thing to do.

  His lips press into a hard line, but I know he understands.

  “Will I see you again?” He asks.

  Ouch. He can tell I am getting restless, and he’s afraid I’ll skip out again. It is true, I want to leave, but I don’t know if I am ready to go home. I am stuck.

  "Of course; I'll tell you before I leave this time, okay?" He seems satisfied with my answer, so I leave.

  I wave before driving off. It has been years. He can't be hung up on the past still, right? He was just drunk last night when he said all that stuff. Every time I am around him, I think of what Tabatha said. She must be wrong. Jack and I can still be friends.

  When I pull into my mom’s driveway, my jaw hits the floor. What in the actual hell.

  I held my graduation cap, playing with the strings that dwindle from the top. When I was in high school, I knew this was the path I was destined to take. Here I am a college graduate, unsatisfied. Everything around me is white; I feel as if I am in a padded room. Tossing my hat to the side, I clutch the sofa cushions, needing something to hold on to.

  The couch sunk in the middle and a hand appeared on my back. I knew it was his before he said a word. I couldn’t tell him though. I don’t need anyone to feel sorry for me.

  “Everything okay?” Jack asks, tossing his cap beside mine.

  I take in his sweet smile. His eyes are lit with happiness, and that only makes me feel worse. I am ruining one of the happiest days of our lives.

  “Yeah, I am just thinking about future stuff I guess,” I say, shrugging.

  “Anything I can help you with?”

  I shake my head, staring at the wall in front of me. “I am going to keep my job at the café for a while and upload my books,” I say, biting my lips.

  Sighing, “You’ve had a lot of offers, Natalie. They won’t wait forever.”

  “Then they weren’t meant to be,” I say, snappier than I meant to say.

  “I don’t want to fight today,” he says, nodding to the other room where our family is at. “Let’s talk about it another time. I think you’re just freaking out because we graduated and we’re getting married. That’s some grown-up shit,” he says, grinning.

  “You’re right,” I lie. He lifts my left hand, kissing my fingers as he always does.

  “Where is he, Natalie?” He asks, sincerely. Jack is the only one that knows how awful my father is. He has kept his questions to himself up until now.

  “I can’t right now,” I say. He nods, understanding.

  “I am going back in there with the family. You should come,” he says. He stands, motioning for me to go with him.

  “I’ll be there in a minute,” I say. I watch him disappear behind the white wall and go into the direction of the kitchen.

  I’ve grown accustomed to half- lies. All of my life I’ve done them. I don’t know why my mom has a bruise. I don’t know why she’s crying. I don’t know where my dad is. But something about lying to Jack makes me ill.

  My dad wasn’t entirely awful. He had his days. He rarely ever put his hands on my mom; it was the words that hurt the most. I should be thanking whoever might be listening to me for taking him away. But here I am, bummed that he took off.

  She really divorced him, and I don’t blame her for that. She kept him around long enough to have him in my life, because she knew deep down, that without her, he would leave.

  “Natalie, honey, are you okay?” My mom saunters into the living room, concern lines her face.

  “Fine,” I say, softly.

  “I am sorry you had to find out this way,” she says, sitting next to me. She faces me, but I keep looking straight, threatening my eyes to keep the tears held in.

  “A heads up would’ve been nice,” I say, looking to her. Her green eyes are full of sorrow. She tucks her dark hair behind her ear and wipes under her eye.

  “I thought I would let you enjoy your special day,” she says, patting my legs three times as she always does. “I thought he would show up as we agreed and we could tell you later.”

  “We can add that to the lies he’s told. Is he coming back? Ever?” I ask, watching her reaction.

  She touches my face, gently pushing my hair back. She shakes her head slowly as if I may break from the news.

  “No, baby, I don’t think he will. Maybe when all of this is over, you can find him and make peace.”

  “I don’t need peace. He left us…good. He was a piece of shit,” I say before jumping up. I hear her gasp as I walk into the kitchen.

  “There she is!” My future mother- in- law says. That gives me anxiety. Janice is fantastic, but I wonder if I am ready for anything I am committing to.

  “The wedding is in three months!” She squeals, holding my hands in front of me. “And you’re starting your job next week!”

  She grabs Jack’s face, and he turns beet red. I can’t help the laughter that escapes from my lips. She always knew how to calm me down. My face falls
in an instant, not even she can help today.

  After our graduation party, Jack and I are back at the apartment. He’s asleep, peacefully. I watch the steady breaths he takes, wondering if I will ever be that calm.

  The dark room is lit from my laptop screen. I do this every night. I sit in my chair, sometimes not writing. I think about writers before me. Did they have doubts? Did they have people telling them to grow up and leave fairytales behind?

  I scroll through the document, smiling. It is perfect in my eyes. I spent a year writing it and even longer editing it. Even Ashlynn thought it was good. I opened the cover I had made, really thinking it over.

  What is stopping me? I’ve lived my entire life lying for my parents, being the good girl, playing it safe; it is time for me to try on my own. If I fail, at least I know I tried. After months of having everything ready, I hit publish.

  Collin is standing in my mom’s driveway. I can tell from here that he doesn’t look happy. I take a moment to look at him before I shove the gearshift into park. It sounds so cliché, but I get butterflies when I see him. Still, after marriage and separation. He’s beautiful.

  His gray jogging pants hang low on his hips, and his white shirt shines in my headlights. I look like I've been to hell and back in sweatpants, but he looks like a million bucks. I compose myself and get out of the car, wondering what I will say to him. The last time we saw each other, we were fighting, and he didn’t show up to talk like we agreed. He wouldn’t just come here to sweep me off my feet and into our happily ever after. I know something is wrong.

  “Collin, what are you doing here?” I ask, pushing my hair out of my face. I have a nervous habit of using my hair as a security blanket. He knows this, so he eyes me suspiciously.

  “I could ask you the same,” he says. He reaches in his pocket and pulls out his phone. “Your mom called,” he says, pointing to his phone.

  “Why?” I ask, stepping toward him. I am now standing a foot away from him. I don’t want anyone to hear our conversation. It will probably be ugly. His eyes hold mine, and for a minute I think he still loves me.

  “She wanted to know if you came home without telling her…something about you hadn’t been home in a while, but you were probably with Jack.”

  “I was with three friends from college,” I say. It is not a total lie, but it isn’t the whole truth. I haven’t grilled him about what he does when I’m not around, and I don’t think he should be able to do that with me either.

  “One of those being an ex-fiancé,” he says blankly. “I didn’t know you had an ex-fiancé while we’re on the subject.” He shoves his hands in his pocket and leans against the siding of the house.

  “Five years ago!” My voice is much louder than intended. I probably look guiltier than I actually am.

  He takes a step back, rubbing his hands over his face. I don’t know what to say. Part of me wants to explain how innocent this is, and the other part of me wants to scream. Where has he been since he left our house three months ago? Did he sober up enough only to point out all of my flaws?

  “I am not a jealous guy, Natalie,” he says. His eyes plead with me.

  “I know that,” I say, agreeing with him.

  “But what the fuck? Is that why you came here? I thought we were meeting three nights ago!” His mood instantly takes a turn for the worse.

  I blink several times, taking it all in. He never cusses, and he never raises his voice, so I don’t know how to respond.

  “You were supposed to come back after the signing. I invited you…” I say, reminding him that this isn’t all on me.

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t feel like hanging out with you and Tabatha. You were putting it off, Natalie. You didn’t want to talk,” he says, annoyed.

  "I did…but it is not what you think," I say as calmly as I possibly can. "Let's go inside and talk tomorrow."

  "Why?" He's not yelling, but he's loud, and I hate this. He always used to be so calm with me. I am not sure what to think of how he is now.

  “I think we should sleep on it before we talk,” I say, looking around. I am paranoid that people can hear. I always think people are watching me, waiting for me to fail.

  “I’ll get a room. I’ll be back tomorrow,” he says. He kicks off the house and walks away.

  My jaw drops for the second time that night. Before he reached his Jeep, I racked my brain for anything to say to stop him. He can’t go. Not again.

  “Stay,” I shout.

  He stops, but he doesn’t turn around. “Because you don’t want me to leave or because you don’t want your mom to know what’s wrong?”

  I thought about that before I answered. I thought of the most honest thing I’ve ever said in my life.

  “Both,” I say.

  He decides to stay. My mom is ecstatic, and she talks his ear off before he excuses himself for the night. After we shower, we meet in my childhood room. He grabs a pillow from the bed and lays it on the floor. It is like a punch in the gut. We haven’t slept together in months, why would tonight change? But I want to press my luck.

  “Sleep with me,” I say. I’m not sure why I say it. I’m nowhere near ready for him again.

  “For show?” He stares at me, waiting for me to answer.

  I smile, “both.”

  I lay in the spot next to the wall, waiting for him. He tosses his pillow on the bed, catching my eyes, he can’t hide his smile. Can we erase the last year? He lies beside me, and everything stops in my world.

  It is so quiet.

  “What happened to us?” He asks after minutes of utter silence.

  He cuts the lamp off beside the bed. I wonder about his question. We were perfect. Maybe that was the problem; nothing in this life can be perfect. You have to learn to roll with the punches. Unfortunately for us, we didn’t learn.

  “Life…life happened to us,” I say. He doesn’t respond. The silence makes me ill.

  “I think the question is…do you want to fix it?” I ask, and I am a nervous wreck. What the hell do I do if he says no? What do I do if he says yes? Somehow, I’ve fallen into this comfortable life we’re living separately. I don’t think I would be okay if we worked it out only to fall again.

  “That’s never been a question for me,” he says.

  “Oh?” I am not dense, but I need to hear him say it.

  “Of course, I want to fix it, Natalie,” he says.

  “Then why haven’t you tried? I’ve tried to talk,” I say, reminding him. I used to know without a doubt that I wanted this with him. Now, I just know that no matter what, I want an answer. I want to move on.

  "Natalie," he breathes my name. "Texting me when you are drunk or texting me when someone is coming over, doesn't count as fixing things; I knew you'd come back when you were ready. I waited," he says.

  He waited. I let the idea roll around in my head.

  “You haven’t been seeing anyone?” I ask him.

  “No,” he says flatly.

  “Then where the hell have you been?”

  “I took a short-term lease apartment downtown. I’ve been writing…I never leave.”

  “No one else?” I ask again, not entirely sure he is telling the truth.

  “For better or worse,” he responds, and I feel like shit. I knew better than to think he would go to someone else. “He’s just a friend?”

  "Yep," I say. I’m not sure if it is convincing. He will never just be a friend. I stare into the darkness. I see nothing. I only hear the breaths he takes. It is odd being this close to him. It is familiar yet foreign.

  “Let’s invite him over tomorrow,” he says, and the world stops.

  “Okay,” I say, weakly. He’s physically only a friend, but I worry about his feelings. I don’t want to dangle my marriage in front of him. What has he done in the last five years? Has he moved on?

  “Let’s talk tomorrow. I love you,” he says. He turns and throws his arm around me. This is a start. Sleeping with him like this used to be one of my favor
ite things.

  “Love you, too.”

  He wraps his pinky around mine, and I smile. If I can convince him to skip town with me tomorrow, we'll be perfect. I can't imagine forcing Jack to sit through a dinner with us. It is cruel. So is leaving Jack again without telling him.

  I swallow the lump in my throat and stare straight ahead of me. I can't see anything, but I think better with my eyes open. Today has been surreal. One minute I was spending time with my college friends, the next minutes I am reunited with my estranged husband. I am suspicious. It is just who I am.

  If I am honest with myself, I feel happy. There is nothing more in this world that I want to go home. I want to write; to be in love; to be satisfied. I want all the things. I don't want it ripped away from me again, and there is a nagging feeling inside of me that it will happen again.

  “I just want to go home,” I say. Why does he insist on meeting Jack? We will never see him again. That stings a little. I look around anxiously, waiting for this to end.

  “We will after dinner,” Collin says, patting my leg.

  I don’t know what this is about. I am uncomfortable. Collin is cool as a cucumber. The doorbell rings and I let Jack inside. He hands my mom a foil covered plate and kisses her cheek. Totally ignores me at first.

  Collin isn’t jealous, and he isn’t confrontational. In fact, aside from loving me, I am not sure that he’s capable of emotions beyond that. So, he’s genuinely trying here. He wants to know a childhood friend, and that’s all.

  Jack is the total opposite of Collin. He used to get under my skin. Together, we’re a landslide and a Tsunami crashing into each other. It was scary to be that young and have someone affect you in that way. When I left, I swore I would never entertain a love like that again. I may still be a natural disaster, but Collin is my cleanup crew.

  “Collin Adams.”

  Jack grabbed Collin’s outstretched hand, not sure how to act.

  “Jack,” is all he says.

  “I am hangry,” I whine. I walk to the dining room, hoping they will follow me. You can’t eat and talk, and there needs to be less talking.