by Dina Silver
I plop down on my couch and take a deep breath. I am fully enamored to the point of not wanting to be without him. Never did I imagine feeling this way so soon into the relationship. I decide to take a nap, a shower, and clean my apartment for my evening dinner guest.
My household chores take longer than expected, but by late afternoon I’m ready to get in the shower. After a good long scrubbing, I grab my robe from the back of my bathroom door and hear the phone ringing in the other room. I run to grab it, water dripping down my back, and check the caller ID before answering. It’s the lobby line, and someone is calling from downstairs. I glace at the clock on the microwave. Five o’clock. Ryan must have finished his errands early.
I grin with excitement. “Hello?” I answer.
“It’s Marc, can I come up?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE:
Katastrophe
This can’t be happening! I’m in my robe, expecting Ryan, and Marc is once again deploying his sneak attack from the lobby. I close my robe and break into a cold sweat.
“What are you doing here?” I ask into the receiver.
“I need to see you,” he says. “Is someone there?”
“No, no one is here, but I just got out of the shower.”
“Can I come up?”
I shake my head in disbelief. Seconds turn into years as I search my brain for an answer other than ‘sure, come on up.’ “Why don’t I get dressed and come meet you down there,” I suggest. “Give me five minutes.” I hang up the phone and rush into my bedroom where I drop my robe and put on a pair of navy sweats and a white Polo shirt. Both have been on my closet floor for over a week. I give my hair a couple quick shakes with the blow dryer then grab my keys and run downstairs.
Once I reach the lobby, I find Marc sitting on the edge of one of the couches in the waiting area. I walk over and stand in front of him, knees shaking.
He seems tense.
“Hi,” I say.
He takes a deep breath and looks up at me. “Kat, I’m sorry to bust in on you like this, but I’ve come here to ask for your forgiveness once again. I got sidetracked when we met at Starbucks, and I never meant for that to happen. Then, running into you the other night made me realize that I gave up too easily.”
I tentatively sit next to him. “You have nothing to apologize for, Marc,” I say.
“Please let me finish,” he pauses, turns his body to me then takes my hand in his. “You know I love you and that I would do anything for you.” I nod and he continues. “You can count on me for anything you ever need, Kat, and I never thought we’d be apart for long. In fact, I welcomed the break at first because it gave me the time I needed to re-evaluate what’s really important to me - and that is you.” He releases my hand and squares his shoulders before continuing. “When you told me that you had started seeing someone else it was like a blow to the gut. I was so stunned by the mere possibility of it that I didn’t know what else to do besides walk away. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I have never walked away from anything that was important to me and I’m not going to start now.”
“Marc,” I try to speak, and shift my posture.
He lifts a finger to silence me. “So I realize that I’m coming here again unannounced - and uninvited for that matter, but I have to know if there’s still a chance for us.”
His words hang there, waiting for me to lob them back over the net and keep this volley going, but I don’t know what to say. I clear my throat.
Then he does something I would never have been prepared for under these circumstances. He gets off the couch and down on one knee in front of me.
“Will you marry me Kat?” Marc asks.
At that moment the blood starts to drain from my skull. I quickly lose control of my senses and can feel my jaw open wider than I thought possible.
“Marc, oh my God. What are you doing?” I manage to ask, given all the confusion in my brain.
“I don’t have a ring yet, but I mean it,” he says, his eyes fixated on mine. “I cannot lose you, Kat, I know marriage is what you want and I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”
Then, like a scene from a Wes Craven movie, I get an eerie sense that we’re not alone. I turn, in slow motion, to look away from Marc’s eager face, and there standing near the lobby entrance is Ryan. I catch his curious expression as he gives me a strained wave with his right hand. The heat under my skin reaches boiling and engulfs every limb in my body as my eyes roll back into my head and I hit the floor.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:
Make Nice
As I slowly come to, I discover that I’m lying horizontally on the couch, and Marc is sitting next to me with a bottle of water in his hands. I try to sit up, but manage to only prop myself onto my elbows. It isn’t until the events of the past five minutes slap me in the face that I can elevate my torso entirely.
Marc gently puts his hand on my leg. “Are you okay?”
“Oh my God,” I whisper and close my eyes.
“Was that him?” he asks and lowers his head to get a better look at my expression.
“Yes,” I glance at my keys lying on the floor. “Is he gone?” I ask.
“He’s gone.”
“Oh my God,” I repeat.
I understand that as much as Marc is concerned for my well being, he’s obviously waiting for an answer to his question that I tried so tactfully to avoid by losing consciousness. However, I hesitate to tell him that having just been faced with his marriage proposal, all I can think about is Ryan. My nerves begin to unravel like a ball of yarn and I’m struggling to maintain my sanity as Marc places his arm around my slumped shoulders.
“That didn’t go as planned,” he says.
I look into his eyes, and I can feel his pain too. Neither of us could have imagined what just happened nor wished it upon each other. Once again as a result of being with Marc, I begin to cry. I bury my head into his chest and switch to sobbing hysterically. And it’s ugly. Snot is pouring out of my nose like tea from a kettle, and no portion of my short sleeve is equipped to absorb any of it.
“Kat, please stop crying,” he says and rubs the back of my shoulders. “This is not how I wanted to see you after proposing.”
I had a vision while I was unconscious. A snapshot of my wedding flashed before my eyes. Moments before walking down the aisle I stood, red roses in hand, and paused to observe the many people who had gathered around me. I could see their faces clearly, but I was having difficulty focusing on my groom at the end of the aisle. At first he was a blurry silhouette, and then after a few seconds passed, I saw Ryan wave at me with curiosity.
Marc and I sit in the lobby of my building as I calm down and catch my breath. I feel obligated to speak.
“Marc, I don’t know what to say,” I muster; figuring honesty is the best policy from here on out.
“How about starting with an answer,” he says sternly, and releases his embrace.
I sit straight and wipe my face. This has gone on long enough.
“Marc, the answer is no,” I say. “And it kills me to say this to you, but I think I have moved on.” I weep again at both the thought of hurting him and losing him all in the same moment. He does not reach to comfort me this time. “Trust me, I was stunned by the mere possibility of it as well, and even more shocked at how fast things have progressed with Ryan. But to be fair to him and most importantly, fair to you at this moment, I have to be honest with you and stop being selfish. Whether Ryan and I are in this for the long term, I don’t know. But you deserve the truth. I have never, not one day, stopped caring about you and I hope you can see that. But I’m with Ryan now.” I pause and give him a troubled look. “Or at least I was as of this morning,” I mumble to myself.
Marc stands, his fingers curled into fists. I swear I can see steam coming out of his ears.
“Are you kidding me? You’re going to throw away everything we have for someone you just met at work.” He goes to take a step, and then turns back to
me. “You are unbelievable, Kat. You’re making a huge mistake, one that you will sorely regret,” he says and kicks my keys before storming off.
A wave of fear washes over me as I watch him leave. As usual, I have to fight off the urge to run after him and soothe him, not wanting him to be sorry about what he’s done. It takes only a second before my mind shifts back to Ryan. I can only imagine what he must be thinking.
Since I cannot even fathom what to say to him at this moment, I decide to call Adam.
“Hello, hello,” he answers his phone.
“It’s Kat,” I say through sniffles.
“Just because I don’t answer, ‘Hi Kat!’ doesn’t mean I can’t read the caller I.D. What’s up?” he asks. “Are you crying?”
“Yes, are you busy?”
“Dave and I are just fighting over what to delete on the DVR. Do you want to come over? We’re ordering Thai for dinner.”
“Marc just proposed.”
There is a brief silence. The only thing I can hear is a low jingling of keys and whispering in the background before he speaks. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Thank you,” I say and head back up to my apartment like a zombie.
It takes Adam closer to thirty minutes to arrive, but I’m too stupefied to care and simply relieved to see him when he walks in. The look on his face is almost worth the drama I’ve just endured.
He gives me a hug and places his index finger over my lips before I can say anything. “Before we begin, I’m going to need to know every detail, do not leave one thing out, and a Diet Coke with a glass. No ice.”
I fetch his beverage as he makes himself comfortable on the couch. Despite my shower, I look like an absolute mess. My hair, left to dry on its own, is now haggy and straw-like, and the swelling in my eyes is just starting to inflate. I grab a glass of wine for myself and sit with my favorite friend.
“Start talking,” he says.
Once I finish the story, Adam’s face takes on a peculiar shape wherein his mouth is wide open but he’s also smiling. I’d say he’s speechless, but that’s impossible.
He slowly closes his jaw. “I’m sorry, what was that last bit?”
“I fainted.”
He bursts into hysterics. “You fainted! Oh my God, just like Keira Knightley in the Pirates of the Caribbean. Thank God you weren’t standing on a turret!”
“I’m so glad you find this amusing,” I growl at him.
“I’m sorry, this is just too much. You should write a book,” he suggests. “So, who played Johnny Depp when you came to?”
“Marc did,” I lament. “Ryan was long gone.”
Adam takes a breath with his eyes closed, as if he’s in the middle of a yoga class, in order to maintain his composure. “Oh, honey, what did you say to him?”
“I told Marc I didn’t want to marry him, and now I’m left with neither of them.” I throw my arms in the air.
“Ryan is going to forgive you,” he says and points a finger at me. “Let me rephrase that. Ryan will understand. Kat, you haven’t done anything wrong.”
I lift my head sharply and shake off the numbness that has consumed me. “Except lie to him for months!”
Adam’s tone gets very frank. “You never lied, you just never told him about Marc. Poor Marc,” he shakes his head at the side note. “And Ryan is an honest, reasonable guy who is crazy about you and will understand once you explain everything to him.”
“I don’t know that. I mean, what the hell was Marc thinking? We’re not even dating anymore! I’m just in shock over the whole thing. My brain is incapable of calculating it all. I have no idea what to do now.”
“What would you say if Ryan proposed?” Adam questions me.
“Why are you asking me that?” I wonder. “Do you think I’d say yes?”
“Don’t answer my question with a question,” he responds.
I’m beginning to get annoyed with where this is going, so I speak slowly as to convey said annoyance. “Much like Marc, Ryan has no reason to propose to me on this day, which would force me to, yes… say no.” I’m treading lightly because like me, Adam has always wanted to get married, and since he and Dave started living together over a year ago, he brings it up more than ever. He and I have our agreements and disagreements about this subject, and he tends to chastise me for taking it for granted, since I’m legally allowed to marry whomever, whenever…and he is not. I look up at him with my best girl-indistress eyes. “Please don’t get off track,” I plead. “I really need your help here because I have to call Ryan now, and I can’t even imagine what he must be thinking.”
“Look, love, you have two really great guys vying for your affection and sometimes you have to take a step back and make sure you’re thinking with your heart and your head. Marc loves you and you love Marc, so make sure that letting him go is what you want and for the right reasons.” He lowers his chin but keeps his eyes on mine. “And Ryan, ooooh that Ryan. Well that gorgeous love pastry has had eyes only for you since the day you met him, and I know he’d be crushed like a bug if you left him now, especially for some old-news, clandestine lover he was unaware of.” He grabs my hand. “So if Ryan is what you want, and you know it is, then just tell him the truth. He’d be a fool to let you go over this. It won’t happen,” he assures me and gives my hand a squeeze.
“I do want Ryan,” I say.
“I know you do.”
“Do you promise he won’t dump me?” I ask Adam.
“No,” he says.
I stand up and grab my cell phone from atop the coffee table. “Should I call, text, go over to his apartment…what?”
“You should call him this minute and see if you can come over and talk to him in person,” Adam instructs me with authority.
“Can I text that to him?”
“If you’re a pussy,” he says.
“I am.”
“Just call him.”
“I’d rather text, I’m a complete coward.”
“Give me the fucking phone,” Adam says then grabs my cell phone and starts looking for Ryan’s number. Once it’s ringing he hands it back to me.
“Hello,” Ryan answers, which surprises both Adam and me.
“Hey, it’s me.” I swallow after I get the words out, but there is very little moisture in my throat.
“Hey.”
I decide to leave any trace of an explanation for our face-to-face encounter if he is willing to see me again. “Can I come over?”
“Sure,” he says.
“Okay, thanks.” I shrug my shoulders at Adam while still on the phone. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”
“See ya then.” Click.
I hand my phone to Adam and he tosses it over his shoulder.
“Well, he’s agreed to see me,” I say.
“It’s not the mob for God’s sake; just relax, everything is going to be fine.”
“What should I wear?” I ask.
“Now there’s ma’girl.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE:
Save It
In hopes of helping my plight, I arrive at Ryan’s apartment five minutes early. If nothing else, my punctuality should show him how sorry I am. When I reach his building I sit in my car for a moment trying to decide where to begin. Adam had suggested I go for the lighthearted, humor-laden approach, but somehow I’m not convinced that’s going to cut it this time. I have to put myself in Ryan’s position. If I’d just found out that Ryan had been hiding a serious relationship from me all this time, and then I accidentally discovered the truth as this mystery woman was on her knees begging him to marry her, I can’t say I’d be all that forgiving.
Instead, it’s me that is in the awful position of groveling and asking for forgiveness, a task that I loathe almost as much as Ryan’s new pretend lover. Up until now I have tried to lead an honest life, one where friends can count on me not to steal their boyfriends, one where I am honest with the person I’m dating, and one where I never have to be in a position to
apologize for being a complete sorry ass.
The thought of the static sounding, evil door buzzer being our first means of communication is also making my nerves go ape-shit. I approach the buzzer with trepidation like a dog that is about to get zapped by an electric fence.
“Hello,” Ryan says through the intercom.
“It’s me,” I respond.
Bzzzzzzt!
Once I exit onto his floor, my fear reaches a new height as I creep down the hall like a scene from the The Shining. I’m preparing myself for an axe to come crashing through his door as soon as I knock. I gently tap on the door, half-hoping that he’s come to his senses and escaped out his back window, running far away and never looking back. Instead the door opens slowly and he is standing there holding it with one hand while the other is tucked away in the back pocket of his jeans. His magnificent face catches me off guard, as it almost always does, and I can see that his lips are pursed, but smiling. Very, very slightly. As soon as our eyes meet he gestures for me to come in. I brush past him and catch a whiff of his scent that fills my lungs with regret. All I want to do is crawl into his huge arms and inhale every part of him. But I can’t. That is absolutely not on this evening’s agenda anymore.
I take a seat on the edge of his couch and he sits on the coffee table facing me with his hands folded, elbows on his knees. Frightened and pathetic, I force myself to take evenly paced breaths like I do when my physician has a stethoscope on my chest. I must keep my tears at bay because I did not come here for the sympathy vote.
Ryan makes no attempt to speak, so I endeavor to break the dangerously thin ice by starting the conversation. “So, I’m guessing you’re wondering what happened earlier?”
Although his posture is serene, his eyes are like laser beams, fixated on me, weakening my strength. “You could say that,” he says.
I lower my head just a touch in an effort to circumvent the lasers, and then roll them back up to meet his face before I begin. “I was in a relationship with a guy named Marc for four years after college. You saw him today,” I add the unnecessary reminder. “We broke up a few months ago but haven’t cut ties completely. And until recently - and today of course - the first time I’d even spoken to him in months was at my friend’s wedding, the night before my first date with you.”
