Temper for You

by Genna Rulon

  “You need to dial it back, dude. It’s one thing to protect our girl—”

  “She is not our girl, she is my girl. You’d do well to remember that,” I interjected fiercely, unwilling to let the point go unaddressed.

  “Whatever. The guy at the front gate let me pass when I explained I was surprising my sister for her birthday. PS, you need to talk to the head of security…it was way too easy getting in here. Miss Hides-a-Lot told me she was at Hensley. With the help of a friend, I obtained her address by peeking into the university’s online billing records. PS, you need to talk to Hensley about their computer security. As for why I didn’t call first…she doesn’t have a freakin’ cell phone, other than the pre-paid I gave her years ago, which is never turned on. PS, get your girl a freakin’ cell phone.”

  “I don’t need you to tell me how to take care of my woman. Where the hell were you when she was completely alone and struggling for the last seven years?” I accused, not bothering to mask my hostility.

  “If she’d let me, I would have been by her side protecting her every minute of the last seven years, so don’t you fucking question my concern for her, Johnny-come-lately. You weren’t the one there to help pick up the pieces when her piece-of-shit husband finally scared her enough to give her the courage to run, and how do I know you’ll be there when he finally shows up to claim her!”

  The world stopped spinning on its axis, causing a dizziness so intense I feared I would pass out. I must have heard him wrong—there’s no way she was married.

  No.

  Fucking.

  Way.

  Casting my eyes toward her, I saw it…the guilt.

  My head shook with denial as I stepped away from her, unable to bear her nearness.

  “Jay,” she whispered, “can you give us a moment?”

  “Shit, I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t realize—”

  “It’s not your fault, but I really need a minute with Wes,” she gently urged him.

  “Yeah, sure. I’ll go sit in my car for a few minutes. I’ll be right there,” he gestured to a car I hadn’t noticed across the street, “if you need me.”

  He quietly walked away, running his fingers through his hair and mumbling to himself about his big mouth stirring the pot.

  “Wes—”

  “Is it true? Are you fucking married?”

  She nodded, tears filling her eyes.

  “And you didn’t tell me? I told you, the only—only—moral I cling to is that I never sleep with another man’s woman. You knew how strongly I felt, yet you let me do it anyway. No, not his woman, his motherfucking wife. Jesus Christ! Who the hell do you think you are? My mother destroyed my father and our family with her cheating, stealing my childhood from me. But you didn’t care, did you? You let me do the same damn thing. Shit, you turned me into her!” I yelled, unable to lower my voice. The pain threatening to bring me to my knees was too great to be contained.

  “Wes, please, you don’t understand, it’s not—”

  “Stop! Nothing you could say will make any of this okay. You lied to me. You made me into a co-conspirator in your adultery. You made me fall—“ I stopped, unwilling to consider the thoughtless words that were trying to escape. “You are not who I thought you were or who you pretend to be. We’re done. I don’t want to see you again—as far as I’m concerned, you don’t exist.”

  I heard the chest-wracking sobs as I stormed away, but I was unmoved by her show of emotions. The sound of a car door slamming caused me to glance over my shoulder in time to see Meg collapse and Jay run to scoop her up into his arms. Whatever…let him have her.

  My heart squeezed, but I told the fucker to mind its own business. I was as pissed at it as I was at her.

  I slammed the front door with enough force to shake the pictures we’d hung on the walls not long ago. When I reached my office, I grabbed a bottle of Jim Bean and proceeded to drink straight from the bottle.

  How could I have been so stupid? I knew she was hiding something, yet I buried my head in the sand instead of insisting on the truth. Fuck, she wouldn’t even tell me her damn name! She was probably afraid I would use one of the firm’s private investigators to run a background check and uncover the truth. Married. I’d been sleeping with a married woman all along. My stomach churned and I debated if a trip to the bathroom was in order. Once I was confident the popcorn would not be making an encore, I raised the bottle to my lips again.

  She seemed so real…so perfect for me. Maybe that was the answer—she was too perfect for me. The only way a girl could be the realization of all my fantasies was if she was trying to be…faking it to lure me into her web of deceit. None of it was real.

  Whatever her aim, she had failed. I discovered the nasty truth courtesy of Jay’s slip, and I was once again free. I didn’t need her to complicate my life and turn my perfectly orderly world upside-down.

  I examined the bottle in my hand to find it half-empty. Good. A few more swigs and this night would be nothing more than a fuzzy memory.

  Tomorrow, I would go out and find the hottest piece of ass in the bar, take her home, fuck her brains out, and forget about the last six weeks. I knew I wasn’t cut out for this relationship bullshit—I’d been trapped, but not anymore. Time to remind myself who Westly Black was, because he certainly wasn’t the sentimental, pussy-whipped little bitch I’d been lately.

  I passed out a short while later, my dreams haunted by the sight of the stranger I thought I knew crumbling to the ground in a heap of despair and regret. Awake, I was able to ignore the scene, but in my dreams there was no escape.

  "Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love." -Jane Austen

  Meg

  I awoke on the couch, my mouth cottony with dehydration. Given the river of tears I’d cried throughout the night, it was no surprise. My throat burned and chest ached from the violent sobs I couldn’t suppress, and if the stinging of my knees and palms were any indication, I suspected both were scraped during my fall. All in all, my body felt like shit, which was appropriate seeing as how that was my exact emotional state.

  Wes was lost to me, of that there was no doubt. The abject horror and self-loathing on his face when Jay mentioned I was married were enough to cripple me. Shame and regret swallowed me whole and the tears returned in torrents.

  “Babe, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to screw everything up. I was angry and didn’t think before I spoke,” Jay apologized—yet again.

  “It’s not your fault, Jay,” I said through my tears. “I did this. Me! There is no one else to blame. I told him the bare minimum because I’m a coward. It wasn’t that I was hiding the marriage…I could have explained that and he may have understood. Then again, maybe not—it’s a sensitive subject for him. I didn’t want to explain the marriage because I would’ve had to explain everything that led to it and followed after. I wasn’t ready to go there…I may never be,” I said, heartbroken and dejected. “This is exactly why I don’t do relationships. There comes a point when the other person wants to really know you, to have you open yourself up for their inspection so they can understand what makes you who you are. Do you know what the problem with that is, Jay? Do you?”

  He stared at me uneasily, my show of temper obviously unsettling him.

  “I’ll tell you…I don’t fucking know who I am, because I’m no one. Nothing! I’m Meg Adeio—empty.”

  “I never should have let you pick that stupid last name,” Jay muttered.

  “Why not, it’s apropos, isn’t it? I’m only now beginning to understand myself, who I am and who I want to be. It’s been seven years and I still struggle to see myself as anything more than a tool,” I quietly confessed. “I’m so riddled with shame and remorse, there are times I can hardly breathe. Most of my life is defined by regret, and every time I find a sliver of happiness and peace, my past returns to steal it away or I make yet another bad decision and throw it away.”

  I wrapped my arms around myself, trying
to find comfort that wouldn’t come.

  “What if Wes was my chance? My one and only chance at love and happiness. What if he was my redemption?” I asked, pausing to reflect on my own impulsive questions. “Oh god…what have I done?”

  I dissolved into hysterics, my body shaking uncontrollably, trying to purge the realization and subsequent agony by force. It was too much…after all I’d survived and years living in disgrace, I’d finally reached my breaking point. Everything I’d sacrificed and every tiny step I’d taken to move away from the past meant nothing. I was once again undone by a man—only this time it wasn’t being bound to a man that broke me, it was being unbound from the only man I wanted.

  I lay on the couch, nearly catatonic, without the will to fight because the small candle of hope inside me had been extinguished. Throughout my life, I’d always believed things could be better. If I tried, worked hard enough, and made amends, then maybe—just maybe—I would find peace. That hope drove me onward when freedom seemed impossible.

  Hope warmed me as I slept in my car on cold winter nights. Hope fed me when I was starving and had no money for food. Hope fueled me when I was beyond exhaustion at the start of a double shift.

  And now hope abandoned me—following Wes as he walked away like a well-trained puppy on the heels of its master.

  “Jay, thank you for checking on me. You’ve been a true friend and I’ll always be grateful. I hope you know none of this is your fault. The blame for everything is on me.” I stood and hugged him tightly. “But it’s time for you to go. I don’t want to chance them seeing you with me. I’ll keep in touch by email and I promise to get a cell phone.”

  “Babe, I don’t feel right leaving you. No offense, but you’re a mess—and I don’t just mean the red nose and puffy eyes. Everything is twisted in that pretty little head of yours and I understand why, but you need to untangle that shit before it strangles the life out of you.”

  “I will. I’m actually going to talk to someone on Monday,” I said, my voice flat and lifeless, even to my own ears. “So thank you for your concern, but you can—”

  “Look, we can continue to argue for the rest of the night, but I’m not deserting you when you’re hurting. Go find the most depressing playlist on your laptop, sit down, and mope quietly while I question your taste in music,” he ordered uncompromisingly.

  “Jay—” I began, but he cut me off…again.

  “Babe, I’ll stay until you fall asleep. I know you’re worried for me, but I’m worried for you. This is the best deal you’re going to get. Take it.”

  My strength depleted, I complied without further argument. Heart-wrenching music drifting through the house, I collapsed on the couch beside Jay, who held my hand, reminding me I wasn’t alone.

  “You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll find a way…I always do,” I tried to reassure him.

  “And you’ll always have me at your back, you know that. All you have to do is call,” Jay whispered.

  He fell silent while I succumbed to the mind-numbing agony, torturing myself by replaying every moment I’d shared with Wes like a movie in my mind’s eye. It sharpened the knife in my heart, plunging it deeper, which I welcomed as penance.

  I punished myself for hours until my mind could take no more and forced my body to sleep. But there was no escaping Wes’ look of betrayal, even in my dreams.

  I awoke to the voices of Sam and Ev, who I could tell were nearby. When my eyes opened, I found they were not only nearby, they were sitting on the couch…watching me. Nope, not creepy at all.

  “She’s waking up,” Ev whispered.

  “It’s about time,” Sam complained, “I was afraid we would have to call the doctor. What do you think is wrong with her? She looks like death warmed over.”

  “I don’t know, but it can’t be good.”

  “Uh, guys, I can hear you, regardless of how corpse-like I appear,” I informed them.

  “You can talk. That’s good, because you have some explaining to do, missy,” Sam warned.

  “Don’t wanna,” I griped like a petulant child, pulling the covers over my head.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Ev said unsympathetically, forcefully exposing my face. “I know that look. I saw it in the mirror when Hunter broke my heart, and I saw it on Sam when her and Griffin were apart. Am I jumping to conclusions or is Wes in need of a beatdown? I’m overdue for a good ass-whooping.”

  “Nope, his ass is mine. I warned him if he hurt you, they’d never find his body. I don’t break my promises,” Sam corrected Ev.

  “Guys, I appreciate the concern, although no one will be kicking anyone’s ass…or dismembering them. Wes and I broke up, but it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

  They exchanged doubtful looks.

  “Then what happened?” they asked in unison.

  How did I word this as to not invite further questions? With these two, it was an impossible feat.

  “My oldest friend, Jay, was in the area and stopped by to surprise me last night. He and Wes didn’t exactly hit it off, and Jay—in a bout of verbal diarrhea—inadvertently told Wes I was married. Wes freaked out because his cardinal rule is no married women—ever. To make matters worse, he’d told me as much and I still didn’t confess. He ended it on the spot and said he never wanted to see me again.”

  “You’re married?!” Sam shouted.

  “I was young and it was sort of like an arranged marriage. I told you I left my family because they were controlling and I wanted freedom…he was a part of the equation.”

  “Holy shit,” Ev mumbled.

  “So…you’re married,” Sam repeated, as if the concept was impossible for her to grasp.

  “I guess. Maybe not. I’ve been gone over seven years. He could have had me declared dead, for all I know.”

  “Wait, are you saying you just up and left without warning?” Ev questioned. It was obvious she was trying to make sense of the fragments of information I’d provided over the past year, along with my new revelations.

  “Pretty much. If I’d told them, they would have tried to stop me and that wasn’t an option. I had to go—for my sanity.”

  “Why do I feel like there’s a whole lot you’re still leaving out? I’m having a difficult time picturing you walking out on your husband without a word of explanation, simply because you wanted a different lifestyle,” Sam assessed. “That’s not you.”

  “Well, apparently it is, because that’s what I did,” I said defensively.

  “I don’t believe it,” Sam countered.

  “Well, you should because it’s the truth,” I said vehemently.

  “But not the whole truth,” Ev said calmly. “If you’re not ready to share more, then say so. Don’t paint yourself as an indifferent bitch, because neither of us will believe you.”

  “That’s all I can say—for now. My life before coming to New York was…complicated. It’s not a time I like to think about, but I recently realized that in order to move forward, I have to put the past behind me. I’m actually meeting with Thia on Monday. Hopefully, after a few sessions I can sort out some of the mess inside me, then I’ll be able to talk about it with you guys. It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just hard for me to go back there in my mind.”

  “See, that I can understand,” Sam said with approval. “In fact, I’m willing to give you three sessions before I start pestering you for answers.”

  “How magnanimous of you,” Ev said, bumping Sam with her shoulder.

  “Yes, it is,” Sam agreed, the jest seemingly lost on her. “Okay, no more talk about who’s to blame or why—for now. Let’s get you downstairs and we’ll start the all-important breakup ritual. Ev, you get the chocolate and wine, I’ll grab the junk food, and Meg, you find the saddest, most gut-wrenching chick-flick available on-demand…something that makes you say, ‘at least I’m not that person.’”

  We each accomplished our tasks and then gathered on the overstuffed couch to watch the movie.

/>   “Thank you,” I said, my voice brimming with appreciation. “I love you guys.”

  They hugged me in a strange Meg sandwich, returning my sentiment before we commenced the relationship-mourning ritual.

  While the pain had not receded—not even an iota—at leastI didn’t feel alone. For that I was grateful.

  "Friendships are the family we make—not the one we inherit." -Salman Rushdie

  Meg

  Walking into Thia’s office Monday morning was my battle in slaying the dragons of my past. At least that’s what I tried to convince myself while sitting in my car, seriously contemplating the merits of driving until I crossed the border and losing myself in the vastness of Canada’s northern territories, where surely no one would ever find me.

  No sooner had I shut the front door behind me than Thia’s voice summoned me into the adjoining office. I left the elegant waiting room with a final glance at the door, thinking of Canada’s Nunavut territory and the practicalities of becoming an Inuit. Realizing I didn’t have the disposable income to invest in an arctic-grade parka, I bid farewell to the fantasy and entered Thia’s inner sanctum.

  “Meg, I’m so glad you made it. I texted Sam this morning to place a bet on if you’d show or run. You cost me twenty bucks already, so I hope you make this session worth my while,” she said as she squeezed my hand in greeting.

  Thank goodness I was accustomed to Thia’s off-beat humor or I would be parka shopping now, budget be damned.

  “At least Sam will be happy when I get home. She’s likely planning how to spend that twenty already.”

  “No worries, I’ll just win it back from Griffin at the next poker night.”

  I sat down on the comfortable, tan loveseat while Thia sat across from me in a navy wingback armchair.

  “Today’s goal is to establish why you’re here and determine how we will proceed. I’m not going to be digging around in your head today…at least not much,” she said with a wink.