by Cassia Leo
“Our child. And it’s not a lie if I told you the truth. I didn’t hide the pregnancy from you.”
“No, you just lied about being on birth control. So where are the test results? How do I know you’re really pregnant? Am I supposed to take your word for it? Because right now your word holds zero value with me.”
“Why do you hate me? Is it because I’m not her?”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” I reply, in no mood to listen to more accusations of adultery.
I cheated on her one time before we were engaged and I’ll never live it down. I wish Tessa knew how fucking badly I want to cheat on her with Rory right now and how her accusations only serve to chip away at my loyalty even further.
Loyalty. You’d think I’d know the meaning of the word since I have it tattooed across my chest. But it seems the older I get, the line between loyalty and treachery becomes thinner and blurrier.
Marriage is not simple. I knew that going into it. But there are all types of betrayal in a marriage, and most of them don’t involve adultery.
I turn to leave and she rushes to my side.
Latching on to my arm, her face is wrought with fear. “Wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Don’t go. Please. We can talk about this.”
My stomach vaults at her desperation. “I have to go to work.” I try to wrench my arm out of her grasp, but she tightens her grip. “Let go, Tessa.”
She shakes her head. “No. Come to bed.” She reaches for my face and I flinch.
“Stop it.”
Her hand slides down and I look her straight in the eye as she curls her fingers around the bulge in my jeans.
“Don’t do this, Tessa. Let it go.”
She moves her hand up and down, stroking me through my pants. “Fuck me, Houston.”
I grit my teeth and will myself not to get an erection. How is it that my wife’s touch makes me feel as if I’m cheating on Rory?
I look her in the eye as I push her away. “I’d rather fuck my hand.”
Her eyes widen in utter disbelief. “I’m leaving.” She storms away toward the bedroom. “I’m going to my mother’s. At least she’ll miss me when I’m gone.”
I want to roll my eyes and call her bluff, but I can’t. I knew a guy named Greg in high school, a friend of a friend, who used to threaten to commit suicide whenever his girlfriend, Alisha, was on the brink of dumping him. It worked for about three years, until Alisha finally called Greg’s bluff. He ended up in the hospital that night after taking thirty Tylenol. Any asshole with half a brain knows thirty Tylenol won’t do anything to a healthy person, except maybe make you vomit or possibly pass out. Alisha didn’t visit Greg in the hospital and he got himself a new girlfriend a few months later. If Greg was the only example of attempted suicide following a breakup I’ve ever come across in all my twenty-seven years, I would totally call Tessa’s bluff.
I follow her into the bedroom and find she has two magenta suitcases open on the bed. Her clothes fly haphazardly out of her dresser drawers and somehow most of them find their way inside her luggage.
“Tessa.” I call her name from where I stand in the safety of the doorway. “Tessa, look at me.”
“Why?” she wails, her voice thick with tears. “You’ve been trying to get rid of me since before we even got married. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
“What are you talking about? I never tried to get rid of you.”
She rounds on me, clutching a bundle of panties to her chest. “You never loved me, did you? All that stuff about my pain is your pain and all that other crap was just bullshit. Wasn’t it? You don’t give a damn about me or what I’ve gone through.” She lifts her left arm to show me the scars on the inside of her forearm. “You don’t care how I got these. You’ve never even asked. You probably even think I’m bluffing when I say I’ll kill myself.”
“Don’t say that. Just… don’t even say it.”
“Why? You don’t want to be responsible for another suicide?”
Her words spark a jolt of violent rage within me. “Shut up! Shut your fucking mouth! You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
She’s stunned for a moment, then her lips begin to tremble. “I’m sorry.” She whispers this a few more times as she sinks down to the floor. “Please don’t make me go.”
I take a few steps closer and find her sitting on the carpet near the foot of the bed. “Make you go where? You’re the one who said you were leaving.”
“I don’t want to leave.” She looks up, her blonde hair sticking out in all directions as her eyes plead with me. “I’ll get an abortion. I’ll see a therapist. I’ll do anything. Just please don’t leave me.” She sobs as she grasps chunks of her hair. “I don’t… I don’t… I don’t know who I am without you.”
I stare at her for a moment, trying to hold on to the anger and disgust I felt a moment ago, but I can’t. I sink down next to her and take her into my arms, where she sobs heavily for a while. And as I stroke her hair and wait for her to finish, I wonder how long Rory will wait to find out what’s inside that box.
21. Rory
August 24th
* * *
I take my time walking to my new workplace on Burnside, turning a seven-minute walk into a ten-minute leisurely stroll. The contents of the Sierra Nevada tin box are clinking around inside my backpack. It sounds like a ring, but I refuse to peek inside. If Houston would rather present it to me himself, he must have a good reason. And I’m pretty certain he knows I have no desire to be his mistress. Maybe whatever’s in the box is a sign that he’s leaving his wife.
Is that what I want? Do I want to be responsible for breaking up a marriage? Would it be fair to call me a home-wrecker if I haven’t actually had an affair with Houston and he was the one who pursued me?
I don’t know the answers to any of these questions. All I know is that I do miss Houston. He was my first love, my default best friend after Hallie died, my protector and provider, and, for a split second, the father of my unborn child. Of course I miss him and everything we had. That doesn’t mean that we belong together.
I enter the Zucker’s on Burnside through the front and my gaze lands on the plastic sheeting on my right. Behind the semi-transparent veil, people are moving inside the coffee bar. A signpost standing in front of the plastic shroud reads: Excuse our dust. New Zucker’s Café & Wine Bar coming soon!
I look left and spot a door behind the customer service counter, which must lead to an office. Jamie told me to ask for the store’s general manager, Benji. A blonde cashier spots my green Zucker’s T-shirt as she’s bagging some produce for a customer. She flashes me a warm smile and I return it.
“Is that Benji’s office?” I ask her, pointing at the door behind the customer service counter.
She nods. “Yep. He’s in there right now.”
“Thanks.”
I slip behind the counter and knock on the door. A few seconds pass before a guy’s face appears behind the small window set into the door at eye level. I can’t see him very well through the wire mesh between the window panes, but he looks pretty young to be a general manager.
The door opens inward and Benji smiles at me. “Are you Aurora?”
“Yeah, but everyone calls me Rory.”
He motions to a chair. “Well, have a seat, Rory, and I’ll get you up to speed. I’m Benji Zucker, by the way.”
I try to focus as Benji explains the job to me, but all I can think is that Grandpa Zucker must really trust his young grandkids to give them such powerful positions in the company. Benji is very friendly, which makes me think he was born, or bred, to do this kind of job. He doesn’t patronize me when he explains the magnitude of my new responsibilities. He turns his computer screen toward me so he can give me a tutorial on the new inventory system they implemented a few weeks ago. When he explains the tasks associated with vendor management, my eyes glaze over as I imagine trying to “manage” a relationship with Houston�
��s company.
“Rory?”
I blink a few times and smile. “Yes. Sorry, I got a little distracted. I was just thinking about the vendor management stuff. Does that entail meeting with vendors in person or would it just be phone meetings?”
He looks confused by my question. “Do you have an issue meeting with vendors?”
“No, no. I’m just, as you can tell, a bit awkward in person. I’m much better on the phone. But I have no problem meeting with vendors in person. I was just curious.” The skeptical look on his face tells me he’s not buying it. “I swear, I’m fine. I promise I’ll do a good job. You have nothing to worry about.”
He nods as he dials a number on his desk phone. I have a weird fantasy that he’s calling security to have me hauled out of here. This makes me grin and he smiles back at me.
“Bella, can you come get Rory from my office? She’s ready for you.” He sets the phone down on the cradle and smiles as he turns his computer monitor around so I can’t see the screen anymore. “Bella is the manager of the wine bar, but she’s four months pregnant. You’re going to have to pay close attention to what she does so you can take over when she goes on leave in five months. Do you think you can handle that?”
“Absolutely.”
He nods as he types something, then he pushes his keyboard aside and looks me in the eye. “I heard you’re a writer.”
This catches me off-guard. I’ve only mentioned my writing to Jamie once. I don’t know what that has to do with anything.
“Uh… I write sometimes. Not sure I’d call that being a writer.”
“But you know how to write? Like, you know the basic rules of grammar and stuff, right?”
I chuckle. “Yeah, I hope so. I have a bachelor’s in English.”
“Cool. I might have a project for you that involves writing.”
“A work project?”
He flashes me a sheepish grin. “It’s a personal project. I… need help writing my wedding vows and Jamie recommended you. Is that okay? Obviously, you don’t need to do it if you’re not comfortable with it.”
“Yeah, totally. Anything I can do to help.”
“Cool. I’m getting married in three weeks and I’m shitting bricks over these vows.”
I open my mouth to reply, but I’m interrupted by a knock at the door. I stand quickly and begin smoothing down my T-shirt as if we’ve been caught doing something naughty. Bella is a tall, doe-eyed brunette with ample breasts and a small baby bump. Her perfectly understated makeup makes me feel a bit self-conscious about my lack of makeup. If a pregnant woman can take the time to look that good, I have no excuse not to.
Bella holds out her hand for me to shake. “I’m Bella.” She pats her belly, then glances at Benji. “And this little guy in here is Benjamin Jr.”
I turn to Benji and he’s grinning from ear to ear. “Bella and I are getting married in three weeks.”
I swallow hard as I realize I just agreed to write wedding vows for both of my bosses’ weddings. Great!
Bella and I spend a couple of hours in the stockroom updating inventory for use with the new software. All the while dodging construction workers who scurry back and forth from the warehouse to the stockroom then to the bar area, installing supply cabinets, patching drywall, connecting the plumbing for three different sinks. I make it through the first couple of hours of inventory management with ease. Then Bella informs me we have a city building inspector coming in at two p.m. to inspect the coolers in the basement where the draft beer will be stored. And a beer vendor is coming in to oversee the inspection. We work in silence a bit longer, scanning boxes of coffee syrup, tea, and coffee stirrers into the computer system, but my curiosity soon gets the best of me.
“So, this guy who’s coming to oversee the inspection… what company is he with?”
Bella chuckles, but she doesn’t look away from the box she’s scanning. “It’s called Barley Legal. I think it’s a cute name. And the guy’s über hot, too. Maybe you could, you know?” She sticks out her chest and jiggles her boobs a little. “Unless you’re not single, then disregard my advice.”
Heat rises into my cheeks, but I can’t tell if I’m blushing because she’s complimenting my ex-boyfriend or if I’m flushing with jealousy because she called him über hot. Either way, I need to figure out how I’m going to approach the situation when Houston gets here. Do I let him go about his business and pretend I don’t know him? Do I opt for honesty and tell Bella he’s my ex? Maybe the honest approach will help me get closer to Bella and get to know her better. Then I’ll be better equipped to help Benji write his vows.
Of course, getting in good with the boss is positive for my working environment, but how long do I actually plan to work here? The plan is to eventually make my living as a writer, isn’t it? That was the point of changing my major after Houston and I broke up, wasn’t it?
I shake my head as I scan a case of cinnamon syrup. Maybe I just want to stick my flag in Houston, claim him as mine again, if only in the past tense. That’s so pathetic.
On cue, my phone buzzes in my pocket and I quickly retrieve it, heart pounding as I imagine it’s Houston with his promise to show me the contents of the box when he comes in. But it’s not Houston. It’s Liam, with a text that makes me laugh so loud Bella drops her scanner gun.
* * *
Liam: In the most boring meeting of my life and thinking, this would be less boring if Rory and her ex-boyfriend were here.
* * *
Bella picks up the scanner gun and stares at me. “Well? What’s the joke?”
I shake my head. “It’s totally lame. Sort of an inside joke.”
“I wouldn’t get it?”
“Ugh. I hate when people say that, but it’s actually true. Here, you can read it.”
I hold my phone out with the screen pointed at her.
“So this guy, Liam,” she begins, not looking particularly impressed, “I take it the last time you two hooked up, your ex-boyfriend showed up and decked him, or you had a threesome. Which is it?”
I laugh as I stare at the text. “No violence or sex involved, but everything else is correct.”
She moves toward the door leading out to the warehouse. “No violence or sex? That must be a really boring meeting he’s in.”
I follow her into the warehouse and she takes me down to the basement, where the walk-in cooler was installed yesterday. She introduces me to a few stock boys along the way, waggling her eyebrows when one of the better-looking ones glances repeatedly at my boobs. Finally, we make it down to the cooler, which is installed below the wine bar. A notice on the steel door has the name of the company and the man who installed the cooler, the company phone number, and the date of the installation.
“Wait right here so you can greet the inspector when he comes down. That way I can stay up there in case any of those guys need anything.”
“But I don’t know anything about inspections or coolers.”
“You don’t have to. That’s why the Barley Legal dude and the installer are coming at the same time. They’ll talk to the inspector. You’re here in case they need a manager to sign off on something.”
I open my mouth to remind her that I’m not a manager, but I stop before I can make a fool of myself. “Got it. I’ll just wait here.”
Once Bella is gone, I pull my phone out of my pocket again to respond to Liam. It takes me seven excruciating minutes to come up with something remotely clever.
* * *
Me: I hope your next visit is less traumatic.
* * *
Liam: Next visit? Are you hitting on me? Don’t answer that. I accept. I’ll be there at 8.
* * *
I laugh as I tuck the phone back into my pocket. When I look up, I nearly jump out of my skin at the sight of Troy Bingham, Houston’s best friend through high school and college. They must run Barley Legal together. Is this the über hot guy Bella was referring to?
His blue eyes are bright with excit
ement. “Rory? Are you shitting me? Holy fuck. Look at you, girl.”
He holds his arms out for me to give him a hug. I give him a quick pat-on-the-back type of hug, but he holds on a few seconds longer than expected. He lets go and looks me up and down a couple of times, shaking his head.
“Houston told me he ran into you, but I didn’t really believe it. I mean, what are the fuckin’ odds, you working here while we’re setting this up?”
“Houston told you he ran into me?”
“Yeah, of course. He couldn’t keep that to himself. You know how crazy he was about you.”
My hands begin to shake, so I tuck them behind my back. “So… you’re here for the inspection?”
“Oh, yeah. You probably thought Houston was coming. He was supposed to, but he had some kind of emergency at home. I think there’s trouble in paradise, if you know what I mean.”
Is Troy trying to convince me to have an affair with Houston?
“I don’t really know,” I reply, unable to disguise the tremor in my voice. “I don’t know Houston anymore.”
“What are you talking about? Houston’s the same guy he always was, just richer.”
“And married-er.”
He shrugs as he chuckles. “If you can call it a marriage. Whatever. None of my business.”
“Or mine.”
“That’s debatable.”
“Excuse me?”
He waves off the comment. “Nothing. I was only kidding. So where’s the inspector?”
I draw in a deep breath to calm my nerves. “I was told he would be here at the same time as you and the installer. I don’t really know. This is my first day at this store.”
“I guess we’ll just wait, then.” He smiles as he tucks his hands into his jeans pockets and leans back against the steel door. “Rory, can you do me a favor?”
