by Erin Zak
“Eat.” She places the plate in front of me and points.
I’m glad she gave me a fork instead of making me fumble around with chopsticks. I grew up in a Mexican family where ninety-five percent of what we ate came wrapped in some sort of vehicle for easy consumption. Needless to say, I’ve never mastered the art of eating rice with two sticks. I’m amazed by those who can do so with ease.
I slide my fork into the rice and look at the small mound shaking on the silver tines. “I can’t,” I say as I place the fork back on the plate. The rice falls partly onto the counter and partly onto my plate. Diamond sighs, places a hand on my arm, and instantly, I’m crying again. I push my plate away and place both elbows on the cold granite. I push my fingers through my hair after I rest my head in my hands. “Why did I do this to myself again? What the fuck is wrong with me?”
“Frankie, you can’t blame yourself. You had no idea.” There are a few beats of silence before she asks, “I mean, right? You had no idea?”
I pick my head up and glare. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“I’m only asking. Am I not allowed to ask?”
“I can’t even believe—”
“Stop,” Diamond says with force. “Do not start with me. I am allowed to ask.”
I close my eyes and pull a deep breath into my lungs to try to make myself settle down. Ever since I was small, if I cry hard, I hyperventilate. And this afternoon has been no different. “I had no idea who she was. I swear on my father’s grave, Di.” I open my eyes and look directly at her. “I promise.”
“Did Willow never mention her name?”
“No!” I don’t mean to shout, but I’m so beside myself. “Why is it so hard to imagine that I never asked, and she never told? I didn’t want to know her name. I didn’t want to know a damn thing about her. I hated her.” I look at my hands and realize I’m clenching my fists, so I relax and press my palms against the countertop. The cold stone is nice against the heat of my anger. “I hated everything about her. I hated how I was in a competition with this woman that I never even knew about until she’d won. And she won everything.” I throw my hands in the air. “She got the girl I fell head over heels in love with…And I got…” My arms fall to my sides. “I got nothing.” I hear Diamond pull a breath in, but I raise my hand to stop her. “I know. I know.”
“What? How do you even know what I was going to say?”
“Stay guarded. Stay sane,” I whisper. She smiles a pained smile, and I shrug. “I cannot explain the connection I felt to her, Di. It was so strange. And now I know that this amazing connection I thought was fate and love was actually just us being connected by the same cunt who broke our hearts.”
“If she broke both your hearts, why is Cecily so upset?”
“Beats the fuck out of me.” My shoulders slump, and I push away from the counter. I head to my couch and fall face-first into the big fluffy cushions. “All I know is, I’m not even fucking Willow Carmichael any longer, and she’s still fucking me over.”
I hear Diamond laugh and feel her sit at the end of the couch where my feet are. I find the strength to turn over and place my feet in her lap. She starts to rub them, and I want to hug her. Of all the things I want right then and there, a foot rub ranks near the top. To be specific, a foot rub by anyone, even a bum off the streets ranks right below watching Willow get hit by a bus and Cecily crawling back on her hands and knees begging forgiveness.
“What am I supposed to do now?”
“Move on,” Diamond says, and I know she’s right, but damn.
“That’s hard to do.”
“I know.” She presses her thumb into the ball of my left foot. I almost yelp. “But you need to heal. I thought maybe this woman could help with that, but…” She stops and stares out the windows of my condo. The sun has set finally, and the lights are starting to twinkle. “We can’t put our healing process on someone else’s shoulders. I know that. You know that.”
I blink away tears. “Hell, I think even Cecily knows that.”
“She’s going to need to heal, too.”
“So I just move on?” Tears roll down the sides of my face. I can only imagine the puddles all this crying will cause. Thank goodness it’s Scotchgarded.
“Did you love her?”
I nod.
“Were you in love with her?”
I nod again.
“Is she worth fighting for?”
I don’t nod this time. She didn’t believe me, but would I have believed myself if I were in her shoes? “I think so?”
“Maybe give her some space?”
“She is leaving to go back to Chicago tomorrow.”
Diamond sighs. “There are other fish in the sea. As much as it sucks to hear that, you know it’s true.”
I echo her sigh and continue to stare at the brightening of the Strip. How am I supposed to let this go? How am I supposed to heal once more? And how am I supposed to move on from a woman I thought I had fallen in love with?
“Frankie?”
“Hmm?”
“You moved on from Willow when you didn’t think you could.”
“Yeah, well, this has all been a cruel joke.” I sigh and close my eyes. My heart is aching. My stomach is in knots. I wish I could have said that I did know. That all of this was my fault, and I knew who she was the second I saw her. But I didn’t. And now I’m the one who’s getting my heart ripped out of my chest. I know Cecily doesn’t feel the same way about me as I do her. I could feel it in her body language every time I let myself slip and say it. But instead of seeing the caution flags, I flew right past them. And now look where I’m at. Can a person come back from two broken hearts?
Probably.
But will I?
Probably not.
Cecily
Francesca wasn’t lying.
When I finally gathered the strength to stand and make it upstairs to my phone, I sit on the edge of the bed and pull up Facebook. I find Willow with ease and search her friends. No Francesca. Hell, I don’t even know her last name to know who to search for in general. I tap on Willow’s Facebook to see if anything exists of her.
I do not find anything about her, but what’s even more shocking is I am completely gone, too.
Not a single picture of me.
I flip over to Instagram.
It’s the same thing there.
I lie back on the bed and let my phone fall from my hand. Why did she delete me from her life? And when did she do it? God, even if Francesca did look at Facebook, I may not have existed on there.
My stomach rolls.
I cannot throw up again. I’d rather die. I roll to the side and see my phone light up, so I raise my head to check it out.
Three iMessages from Willow.
I have absolutely no desire to text her. The phone starts to vibrate. It’s her. I wonder if Francesca has gotten to her, but I really don’t care enough to find out. The phone starts to vibrate again, then silences. Then again. Silence. Finally, I pick it up, slide my finger across and raise it to my ear. “What the hell do you want?”
“Cecily?”
I pull the phone back and look at it. “Oh my God, Brenda. I am so sorry.” I sit upright. Hearing my sister’s voice is shocking yet comforting, and I know if I don’t prepare myself, I’m going to break down very quickly. I run my free hand through my hair. “What’s up?”
“Why did you answer the phone like that? Is everything okay?”
“Yes,” I lie. It’s not worth hashing out all the details.
“Why are you in Vegas? I called the house, and Luke said you’ve been there since Thursday. I wish you would have told me. You tell me everything. I would have ditched the family and come with you.” She laughs. “Remember that time we went with Mom’s best friend when we were like, oh man, how old were we?”
“Fifteen and seventeen.” I laugh. “Didn’t she have us watch her baby while she went and gambled?”
Brenda chuckles. “Yes. And during
the day, we went to Circus Circus and tried to pick up boys in the arcade.”
“You and your love of the dick.” I laugh and so does she. “We were so dumb.”
“We really were. We probably could have been kidnapped.” She sighs. “Mom would have been furious.”
“Yeah, she would have tracked us down just so she could kill me for losing you.”
Brenda lets out a laugh. “Oh, please. You were her favorite and still are.”
I can feel emotion bubbling in my throat. I don’t want to tell Brenda. I really don’t.
“What’s going on? Your voice sounds—”
“I slept with someone here in Vegas.” My words fall out of me, and as much as I wish I could pull them back, I know the silence on the other end means the damage has already been done. “Bren?”
“What happened, Cecily? Are you and Luke…no longer?”
I shake my head. “No, we are…separating.”
“Cecily? What’s going on?”
I slide off the bed to the floor and pull my knees to my chest. “I cheated on Luke with Willow.”
“Willow Carmichael? That skinny bitch with the stringy red hair and no lips?”
The way Brenda says that makes me chuckle through the impending emotion. “Yes, her.”
“Oh, Cecily. What were you thinking?”
The disappointment in her voice makes my eyes well up. “I was thinking I was unhappy and couldn’t figure out why. I loved Luke so much, yet…” I pull a deep breath into my lungs and let it out. “I was not happy with him. He was everything except the most important parts.”
“So you cheated? Honey, that’s not the way to go. You know that.”
“I know.” I start to cry big, sloppy tears, and before I know it, I’m sobbing.
“Cecily, you need to breathe.”
I am trying, but it’s not working. This feeling pouring out of me has been four years in the making. Guilt, fear, mistrust, sadness, anger, all combining to make me want to throw myself in front of a bus. I ruined my entire life by allowing the affair to happen. I should have stopped it immediately. I should have never let Willow kiss me. I shouldn’t have kissed her back. And I certainly shouldn’t have come to Vegas in search of a second chance. I could have turned down the promotion. I could have stayed with Luke. I could have told him I didn’t want to separate. But instead, I came to this stupid city with all the stupid lights and stupid glitter and found out I had been treated exactly how I’d treated Luke.
And then I found her…Francesca.
“Cecily?”
I breathe in, out once. Twice. Three times. Slowly so I can try and calm down. I clamp my eyes shut and will myself to stop crying. “Yes?”
“Who did you sleep with?”
“It’s not important.”
“It sounds important.” I hear my nephew in the background ask when dinner will be ready. “Give me a minute,” Brenda says, and I hear her kiss him. Probably on the forehead along his sandy blond hairline. He is an adorable seven-year-old, and I have been jealous of her ability to have children since the second she told me she was pregnant with her first. And again with her second. And the jealousy was even worse when she told me about the third. Three children in, and I’m still the one who cannot bring a human being into this world.
“Bren, you need to go take care of your family.”
“You’re my family,” she says, and I continue to clamp my eyes shut. Her sincerity makes me want to start crying all over again. When she’s an actual sister, she is amazing. “Tell me. Who did you sleep with?”
“Her name is Francesca. And she—”
“Honey, are you telling me you’re a lesbian?”
“No,” I answer quickly. “I mean, yes?” I sigh. “I don’t know, Bren. That’s not…that’s not the point.”
“Oh. But you’re sleeping with women now and—”
“Brenda.”
“I’m sorry. I just…You’re right. Go on.”
“I don’t know what I am, Bren. I guess on top of everything else, I’m a horrible human being, so why does it matter if I’m gay or straight or bisexual?” My question is met with silence, and I take a deep breath. “When I came out here, I found out Willow had cheated on me.”
“Cheated?”
I can hear her cynical tone all too well. “Yes, cheated. She promised she would wait for me…and she didn’t.”
“Oh.”
Again with the tone. “Do you want to hear this or not?” I am irritated. She has every right to have that stupid tone, but I’m still irritated.
“Yes, yes, I’m sorry.” I can tell she’s raising her free hand in mock surrender.
“The girl she cheated on me with is Francesca.”
I hear her phone clatter to the ground, then her say, “Oh, shit,” as she fumbles with it. Three seconds later she’s asking, “Are you still there?”
“Yes.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
I sigh. Everyone really does know I hate that word, but it fazes no one. “No, I’m not kidding you.”
“What the hell?”
“I know.”
“How does that even happen?”
“I have no idea.”
“So now what?”
“I wait for Willow to show up here tomorrow before I leave for the airport, and I tell her the whole story.”
“And then what?”
“I leave. And never see either of them again.”
“Wait.”
I sigh. “What?”
“You aren’t going to keep seeing the other one?”
“Seeing? She lives here. And no. She knew about me. There is no other reason why she would have done what she did.”
“What did she do?”
“Well, she…” I stop myself. Since I have absolutely no proof, she didn’t really do anything wrong, did she? “I mean, she…she didn’t really do anything, but when I heard—”
“Oh, please tell me you didn’t fly off the handle?” Her question is asked with so much sincerity. She knows me so well. “Cecily, did you throw up like you normally do?”
“Well, that’s insulting.”
I hear Brenda chuckle. “You did, didn’t you?”
“Brenda, this is not an opportunity for you to make fun of me.”
“Oh yes, it is.” She laughs. “So something Willow did is the reason you’re not going to talk to this new chick?”
“But what if she knew about me?”
“Did it ever seem like she did?”
I don’t answer right away. I honestly don’t think she did, but there is simply no other explanation for two complete strangers, tied together by a single woman, finding each other like we did. “There’s no way we just hit it off the way we did if she didn’t have some idea who I was.”
“I disagree. But I disagree with an affair, so really, I think we have different ways of viewing the world.” She clears her throat. I think she knows she delivered a low blow, but she’s right once again. “You need to get home and figure out what the fuck you’re doing with Luke.”
“We’re going to divorce.” I cringe. Divorcing him hurts, but knowing I failed is even harder to swallow. We worked so hard to never get to this spot. We avoided it at all costs, and now because I couldn’t keep it in my pants, we are going to admit we failed. I failed. He didn’t really, but in the end, didn’t we both? “We have to divorce. I don’t think there’s a way back together after everything I’ve done.”
“Then you need to go home and take care of that. Figure out what you want, for Christ’s sake. I can tell you, there are few things in this world that truly make us feel alive. And if either of these women did that for you, then it’s worth fighting for.”
“You act like this is all so easy. I know you’re right about the infidelity, but none of this has been easy.”
“I refuse to believe that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Willow wasn’t easy?”
“Act
ually, no. As shocking as that may sound…Everything with her was soaked in guilt and nerves.”
“What about this new woman?” she asks, and I hear her sharp intake of breath. “It’s sort of shocking to know you sleep with women.” She chuckles. “I never would have known.”
I smile through her revelation. “Yeah, well, you and me both.” My mind fills with a vision of Francesca, her smile, her eyes. “It was really easy with Francesca.” My voice is a whisper and again, I’m starting to cry.
“Oh, Cecily.” I can hear her moving around her house. She must be in the kitchen. The cupboards slam shut, and I hear something like a can hit the countertop. “You need to figure out what you want in this life. It’s short.”
“What about Mom? I can’t tell her I’m…” My voice trails off.
“In love with a woman?” Brenda chuckles. “Tell her when she’s with Dad. For some weird reason, I have a feeling he’ll be cool about it. Ever since he retired, he’s been way more laid-back. I think he’ll make her be cool.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Trust me. Dad will be cool. Mom…yeah, she’ll cry.”
“Thank you for your honesty.”
“It’ll be the first time I’ll be her favorite.”
I laugh. “You are capitalizing off my crisis?”
“Um, yes. Of course.” We both laugh as I hear her husband shout a hello at me. “Did you hear Thomas?”
“I did. Tell him hi back for me.” I lean my head against the mattress. “Go take care of your family.”
“Cecily?”
“Hmm?”
“You can do this. You’re one of the strongest people I know.”
“I love you, Bren. Thanks for listening.”
“Call me when you get back. We’ll go get drinks.”
“I will.”
“Love you,” she says softly. “A lot.”
“I know. Go.” I say my good-bye and hang up before I can start crying again. This day went from amazing to horrific, and I don’t know how much more I can cry.
Chapter Sixteen
Cecily
