The Other Women

by Erin Zak

  My phone buzzes against the coffee table, and I see Willow’s name on the screen. I grab it, quickly checking her text.

  I’m here.

  Come up, I type and toss my phone on the couch. I’d like to toss it off the building so I never have to worry about talking to either of the women in my life, but I know that’s hasty. And not something I would be able to handle. After a couple deep breaths, I stand and make my way to the door to let her in.

  I’ve been up since five in the morning. Actually, I’ve been up since three, but I refused to get out of bed. I thought a bath in the whirlpool tub would help, but all I did the entire time was cry and think about everything I’ve done to screw up my life. Nothing seemed to calm me down. I even ordered an old-fashioned from room service, hoping the bourbon would help, but all it did was remind me of Francesca.

  Packing has kept me busy, even though it did nothing to stop me crying. Every outfit made me think about the past four days.

  Francesca, Francesca, Francesca.

  She was the only person in my head, and even though it should have spoken volumes to me, all it did was make me angry. Angry with myself because I wasn’t thinking about the impending doom with Willow. Angry for not thinking about the sadness I had caused Luke. Angry because I typed out and erased the same text—I miss you so much—to her fifteen times before I threw my phone across the room, then prayed the crash wasn’t the screen cracking.

  How can someone like Francesca come into my life carrying so much hope and happiness only to leave behind sadness and destruction?

  Of course, I shouldn’t be blaming her. But I am. And the only reason I am is because it’s hard to blame anything on Willow.

  I hear the elevator ding, so I open the door. She’s standing in her normal work attire: black pants and a colored shirt. The blue makes her look gaunt instead of beautiful, and I wonder if she’s been eating. Her hair is down, her makeup is sparse, and there’s a flash inside me when I wonder what I ever saw in her. I feel awful for thinking like that. How dare I? I am the one who wouldn’t release her, wouldn’t stop her, wouldn’t put my foot down.

  “Come in,” I say and step to the side so she can walk past. Her pumps click on the tile. The noise is almost deafening. I’ve had a headache since yesterday, and it’s four ibuprofen away from an untouchable migraine. Maybe I deserve this pain for the pain I seem to cause around every corner.

  When I motion for her to sit, she takes a few seconds before she picks a spot at the end of the couch. I sit in the chair. If she pulls any sort of grand gesture, I want to be prepared. I don’t think she will, but who knows?

  “How was Chicago?” Before she can answer, I add, “How was dinner with Luke?”

  She rolls her eyes. “You know how it went.”

  “Why would you do that to me?”

  She shrugs.

  “That’s all you have? Seriously?”

  “Cecily, you have no idea what you’ve done to me, do you?”

  “Please. Enlighten me.” I lean back and cross my legs. I smooth a hand over my jeans before folding my arms. “This should be rich.” The conversation is going exactly how I expected it to go. Just wait until I drop the next bomb.

  “I’ve been waiting for you for the past four years.”

  “I told you I wasn’t leaving Luke.”

  “Would you let me finish?”

  I sigh and motion for her to continue.

  She also sighs before she stands and takes four long strides to the windows. She slides her hands into the pockets of her pants. “I know you told me you weren’t going to leave him. But then there was a time you said you would like to. And I held on to that. I hoped you’d want to be with me enough that leaving Luke would be the obvious next step.” She turns. “You had to have known I wasn’t going to wait forever.”

  I can feel my resolve softening.

  “You were the best thing to ever happen to me. You’re beautiful. You’re funny. You are so talented. But on the flip side?” She shrugs, her hands still in her pockets. “You became the worst thing to happen to me.”

  Her words slam into me as if she was swinging them like a baseball bat. I bite my tongue.

  “I came here and met someone who made me feel alive again. But the only person I could think about was you. You were still all I wanted, even if it meant waiting forever.”

  “Willow—”

  “I am not asking you to reconsider, to come back to me.” She smiles. “We both know the damage has been done.”

  “So Francesca was her name, wasn’t it?”

  Her face falls.

  “Wasn’t it?”

  “How did you—”

  I close my eyes. “I met her the night I stormed out of here, after we…ended things.”

  “You did?”

  I nod, eyes still clamped shut. “She is something else.” I hear Willow move, and then the cushions dips as she sits. “Did she know about me?”

  “Why?”

  I open my eyes and glare at her. “Did she know about me, Willow?”

  She shakes her head. “No. I didn’t talk about you. I was trying to forget you.”

  “Oh?” Well, that’s news.

  “Come on, Cecily. That’s not fair.”

  “You realize we were still together when you left me in Chicago?”

  She sits there saying nothing, and I want to get up and smack her.

  “Wow, Willow. Wow.” I shake my head. “So for three months of the four you’ve been here, you’ve managed to cheat on me, break my heart, then break hers?”

  “How would you know I broke her heart?” she asks, and when I purse my lips, she must start putting it together. “What is going on here?”

  “Willow,” I say and take a deep breath. “I slept with Francesca.” There’s no point in beating around the bush.

  Her jaw clenches. “Excuse me?” she says through her teeth.

  “I slept with her.”

  “What the fuck, Cecily?”

  “We spent the last three days together. She…” I pause, uncross my arms, and look at my hands. I’m shaking like a leaf. “She is incredible.”

  In an instant, Willow is on her feet. She takes a step toward me, towering over me, her hands balled into fists. “Are you fucking kidding me? Why would you do that to me?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me, Cecily.”

  I am at a disadvantage while seated, so I stand. We are only about a foot away from each other. She is taller than me in her heels, so I take a step to the side to distance myself. “I had no idea she was the woman you’d told me about. If you can remember, you never told me anything about her. I met her, and then you left me. Again. To run off to Chicago to try to ruin my marriage some more, which, thanks to you and me, was already devastated.”

  “It was a business trip, Cecily.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.” I turn to walk away, but she grabs my wrist. She’s squeezing it tightly, and I look at it, then at her. “Let go of me.”

  “You have ruined my entire life.”

  I can feel my nostrils flare. My face is hot. I shake my head. “Ditto.” I see her hand in the air coming toward me, and I jerk away. I get free, and she misses. “Holy shit,” I shout, and she lunges again. I push her off and dash quickly around the couch. “Are you out of your mind?” The couch is between us, thankfully. She looks crazed.

  “I am going to make you both regret this. Do you hear me?” She runs her hands through her hair before she starts to move around the couch. I get to the opposite side as quickly as possible. My legs are wobbly. I want to collapse, but I am out of my mind with fear.

  “You need to leave.”

  She straightens her shirt, runs her hands through her hair again, and turns. She’s up the step to the entryway and opening the door in the flash of an eye.

  My eyes are welling with tears, but I snap out of it as I rush to my phone and type out of text to Francesca:

  Willow knows. I’m so sorry. />
  The text is blue for half a second before it turns green. I know what that means. Francesca has blocked me. I sit on the couch and let the tears come. Once again, I have ruined everything.

  Francesca

  I picked up a shift so I wouldn’t be stuck at home thinking. And thinking. And thinking. I thought it was a good idea, but all I’ve done since picking it up is regret the decision. I want to stay at home and cry. When will I learn to not let other people dictate my life?

  The mirror is not kind to me today. Every time I look at my reflection, I cringe. The anti-swelling patches I wore all night did not work. I should take them back and get a fucking refund. Toss them across the counter to the Walgreens clerk and tell her they, in fact, did not help me to not look like a zombie.

  When I get to the door, I grab my bag and take a deep breath. “I need the money. It’s fine,” I say to pump myself up. As I pull the door open, I am taken off guard by the figure standing there, hand poised to knock.

  “Willow?”

  “You don’t work on Mondays. Where are you going?”

  My shoulders fall. She still knows my schedule. I hate her for it. “I picked up a shift. What the hell are you doing here?”

  “We need to talk.”

  “Uh, no, we do not.” I move to leave and shut the door, but she puts her hand out and stops it. “I need to go to work, Willow. Please move.”

  “Not until I talk to you.” She pushes past me into my condo. For half a second, I think maybe I should bolt and leave her like she did to me when she broke my heart. My conscience takes over, though, and I follow her inside. The door closes behind me. I do not leave the entryway. I don’t want to get closer. This is the first time we’ve really talked since the big breakup. And I’m fragile enough right now I fear what I’m capable of falling back into.

  “What do you want?”

  “You fucked Cecily Yates?” She spins in her heels and takes two strides until she’s standing in front of me. She’s angry. That much is certain.

  I drop my bag, place my hands on my hips, and square my shoulders with hers. I am the same height as her, with or without heels, so she does not intimidate me in the slightest. I also grew up on the wrong side of the tracks and will absolutely fuck her up if she lays a hand on me, which I typically would never worry about with her, but she’s giving off a bad vibe with her eyes and her body language. “What does it matter to you? Hmm?”

  “She was the—”

  “The what?” I ask, anger dripping from my words. “The woman you fucking broke my heart for? You don’t own her.” With three sentences, I’ve managed to shut her up. She takes a step back, and her shoulders fall. “That’s all you got?” I laugh. “I’m not going to be late for this lame-ass argument.” I turn and place my hand on the doorknob.

  “You are not good enough for her. You are a fucking bartender.”

  If my emotions were a car, the tires would have screeched on the pavement after her comment. I pull my hand from the door. I pull my shoulders back and turn again. “You are an awful human being, Willow.”

  “She only slept with you because I broke up with her.”

  I shake my head. “Is that what she told you?” I watch her face change from sure of herself to a mixture of fear and trepidation. “You broke her heart by cheating on her with me. And you know it, don’t you?”

  “I did it to get her back.”

  “Oh, I know.” I laugh. “And it fucking backfired.” I fold my arms across my chest. “You realize she’s leaving her husband now, right? And you don’t get to be with her. You decided to fuck her over instead of breaking up with her and letting her make decisions that weren’t based on you. You’re so selfish.”

  “I’m selfish?” She gasps. “You’re the selfish one! You couldn’t have me, so you fucked my girlfriend.”

  I cannot contain my laughter. “If you think I had any idea that she was connected to you, you’re delirious. You never even told me her name. You made it seem like she was some horrible person who was using you. You played the victim and made me fall for you, just so you could make this woman jealous. And now you’re mad at me and her? Because we found out there was life beyond you? Beyond the heartache you caused?” I spin and pull the door open in one fluid move. “Get the fuck out of my condo.”

  She pulls her shoulders back as if she’s gathering what’s left of her shattered self-esteem and walks past me. She smells exactly how I remember, but this time, the scent makes me want to throw up. She stops abruptly. “You know you aren’t supposed to sleep with guests.” She tosses the words over her shoulder like a speeding motorist littering.

  “Are you threatening me?”

  She continues down the hallway, her head held high. The only thing I can admire about her is her ability to remain calm. Anyone who would threaten to throw me under the bus for this is vile. And that truth is the only reason I don’t allow myself to fall apart as I wait for her to not be anywhere in sight before I leave. I guess if I get fired, I get fired. I’ll find another job. I survived Willow once before. I can survive whatever she throws at me again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Cecily

  When I get home from O’Hare, I find Luke in the kitchen. He’s made dinner, which isn’t a shock. But he has set the dining room table, and I know it means he wants to talk about something important.

  He pours me a glass of sauvignon blanc and hands it over by the stem. He is nervous. I can tell by the way the bottle shook as he poured. Whatever he wants to say means a great deal to him, so I prepare myself as I sit at the table. If he wants to work it out, maybe I should just say okay. I can try again. I can find a way back to him if I really try. I’m sure of it. He has been the only constant in my life since high school. There has to be a way for me to fall back in love with him, especially if I never stopped loving him. And I haven’t. I still look at him and think he’s one of the kindest, most wonderful people on this planet.

  I watch him as he sets a plate of food in front of me. He’s made pork chops and mashed potatoes. He knows I love that meal. Hell, he knows I love food, period, but this one in particular is one of my favorites. He makes the world’s best mashed potatoes. It’ll be hard on me to never have them again. Seriously, Cecily? That is what you’re thinking about?

  He sits next to me. He raises his glass, and I gently clink mine against his. We both drink, and when he sets his glass down, I go to say something, but he’s cutting me off with a wave. “I’d like to speak first, please.”

  I nod, and only when he picks up his fork do I do the same. He takes a bite of mashed potatoes, so I mimic him. I’m glad I don’t have to wait to eat. I’m a horrible person.

  “You know I love you, right?”

  I smile and nod.

  “And I’ve always been in love with you. For as long as I can remember.”

  “I know.”

  He picks his knife up and cuts a thin piece of pork chop. He has the meat on his fork as he says, “I’ve known you weren’t in love with me since the third miscarriage.” And he takes a bite.

  My heart squeezes. We do not speak about the miscarriages. Maybe we should have. But we don’t. And honestly, I have no idea why, other than that the conversations are hard. And we don’t have hard conversations. Telling him I wanted to separate was the hardest one we ever had.

  “You are not the only one who was unfaithful, Cess.”

  I blink. Wait a second. That was not at all what I thought he was going to say. “I’m sorry, but what?”

  He places another bite in his mouth and chews and chews for what feels like ten days. He swallows. “I started seeing other women about five years ago.”

  I open my mouth to say something, but no sound comes out, so I shut it. My teeth snap together, and the noise is loud. I reach for my wine. After two greedy gulps, I say fuck it and drink the rest of the glass.

  He chuckles as he sets his silverware down. I don’t down wine. I drink it. Slowly. But he knows he’s throw
n me for a loop. He pours more when I set my empty glass down. “I didn’t know how to tell you. Those relationships never meant anything to me. It was always you. You are the only person I ever loved, but you…” He stops, sighs, runs his hands through his hair. “You shut down, Cess, and I tried to talk to you, and it just didn’t work.”

  I have no fight left in me, but even if I did, I wouldn’t fight him on this. He’s absolutely right. I did shut down after the miscarriages. I was a mess. And yes, he would comfort me when I cried and take care of me when I was sad, but I didn’t know how to talk to him about what I was going through. And it never occurred to me that he needed to talk about it, too. I was so selfish.

  “I knew about Willow almost immediately. And I knew without a shadow of a doubt once she left. You were a mess all over. And now?” He drinks a generous gulp. He lightly smacks his lips. “You’re once again a mess. So I know it has to do with her once more. The hold she has on you makes a part of me hate her guts. The other part of me is jealous. For years, I was that person for you. And then I just wasn’t.”

  “Luke, I have always loved you.”

  “I know you have. I know.” He holds his hand out for me to place mine in it. I do as he wants, and he squeezes. “I don’t want you to think our failed marriage was your fault. This was a joint effort. We both fell down and didn’t get back up.”

  “Thank you for saying that.”

  He squeezes my hand again before he pulls away and continues to eat. I have lost my appetite. I look at the food and realize, not only did Willow cheat on me, but so did Luke. I must let out a noise of some sort that causes him to look at me.

  “Cess? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, sure.” I shake my head. “It’s just…” I look at him. “Everyone cheats on me. What is wrong with me?”

  “Honey,” he says with a laugh.

  “No, Luke, I’m serious. You cheated on me. Willow cheated on me. I must have something wrong with me.”

  “Wait a second. Willow started seeing someone else?”

  I nod. “Right after she moved to Vegas.”

  “Weren’t you two still…” He uses his hands to motion toward each other. “Y’know.” He cringes, and so do I. Him and me having this conversation is horrifying.