Man Candy

by Ingro, Jessica

  “Careful,” she warned. “You might say something you’ll regret if you keep going with that line of thought.”

  “I just can’t fucking win with you. Let me ask you one question.”

  “Fine.” She looked bored standing in front of me waiting, and I just wanted to take her by her shoulders and shake some sense into her.

  “Do you even love me?”

  Her face paled and she took a step back towards the door.

  “Well do you?” I pressed.

  “It’s too soon for that,” she sputtered.

  “No. It’s not. Some people fall in love with one glance. Others with a touch. And some with a kiss. I know I love you.” I opened up my heart and prayed she wasn’t going to rip it out of my chest.

  Her face shuttered and she gave no emotion away when she said, “It’s not true.”

  “It is. Some part of me fell in love the first time I saw you. I never told you this before but I saw you going into work like a year ago and somehow I just knew you were going to be the one for me, but I had no idea how to get to know you. I never found my chance. Then I looked up that day at the signing and you were there and I realized that the feeling I had the first time I saw you was nothing compared to what it was like to be in your presence and get to know you.”

  The air surrounding us felt weighted by my confession. She hadn’t known I saw her. She hadn’t even remembered the one chance encounter in the coffee shop. Maybe now she would understand where I was coming from.

  “I... I don’t know what to say,” she finally spoke.

  “Tell me if you love me. Or at the very least care about me.”

  “Of course I care about you.”

  “As more than a friend who gives you glorious orgasms?” I raised my eyebrow in question. I knew on the outside I looked calm and rational, but on the inside my nerves were a mess knowing this conversation had the power to destroy everything I had tried to build with her.

  When she hesitated a bit too long, I knew there was no point in trying anymore. I had reached my limit and even though it hurt like a son of a bitch, I knew it was for the best that I leave.

  “That’s cool,” I told her in a resigned tone.

  I spun on my heel and started down the front walk. I half expected her to try to stop me but when I was five feet away, I heard the front door open and Scott call her name. When I made it to my Jeep, I glanced up and saw she was gone.

  Wasn’t that just perfect?

  *****

  Clarissa

  Holy fucking shit. He was having a child.

  Those thoughts stayed on repeat in my brain long after Scott left my house. I guess you could say I was in shock not only by his unannounced visit, but by the information he shared while he was there.

  The ball of self-loathing and filthiness that I felt when I found out I was sleeping with a married man only intensified after finding out that man was now going to be a father with another woman—one he impregnated while we were still together. My stomach twisted, and I thought I might be sick.

  On auto-pilot, I walked out to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of tequila from the liquor cabinet. Twisting the cap off, I brought it to my lips and took a healthy chug. The liquid burned on its way down my throat and made me cough a little.

  God this night was such a cluster fuck.

  After spending way too long nursing my wounds from the argument I had with Ben, I knew I needed to reach out to him. Those were my issues and he didn’t deserve to be lambasted over them. Problem was my stubborn pride didn’t want to admit how very wrong I had been. He couldn’t help that women throw themselves at him, even when I wasn’t there. It was something I was going to have to learn to live with.

  When I got home from work, my original plan was to throw on my pajamas, drown in a tub of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream and watch made-for-TV movies until I fell asleep. Maybe somewhere in there I would come up with a brilliant way to tell Ben I was sorry and heal the breach between us.

  Not only was that interrupted by Scott’s surprise attack, but then having Ben show up at the same exact time turned it all to complete shit. When I walked down the stairs and saw the both of them standing there, I wanted to die. There was no way it could end well. Especially since Ben looked ready to commit murder and Scott is an arrogant douche who would be stupid enough to entice him to do so.

  Extricating Ben from the house was my way of keeping them from killing each other after Scott tried acting like he was man of the house and my protector. I never planned on letting him believe Scott and I were sleeping together. I only did because he insinuated that I would do that to him.

  And didn’t that just make me the biggest bitch?

  His words felt like a slap to the face, which really sucked because they were essentially my own accusations coming back at me. It was then I really realized how awful he must have felt when I accused him of the same thing.

  Guilt churned in my stomach when I thought about the defeated look on Ben’s face when he left. I was so afraid that he would decide I wasn’t worth the hassle and move on, but I was even more afraid to tell him how I really felt. To expose myself to him in the most open and raw way someone could.

  Wearing my heart on my sleeve was not something I was comfortable doing.

  Knowing that I needed to make a move if I didn’t want to lose him forever, I found my phone and dialed his number in an effort to rectify the biggest mistake I had ever made. When his house phone went to voicemail, I tried his cell. That too went straight to voicemail.

  With a shaky breath, I waited for the beep. “Hey, it’s me. Call me when you get this. We need to talk.” My voice cracked at the end of the message, and I felt bleakness settle into my bones as I waited for him to return my call.

  *****

  Ben

  “Fuck you,” I shouted at Tanner when he tried to take my glass of tequila away.

  “Yeah, yeah. It’s not the first time you shouted that at someone tonight,” he grumbled from the stool next to mine.

  “Fuck everyone!” I exclaimed.

  “Or that,” he added. “Care to tell me what has you so pissed off?”

  “Clarissa,” I said her name like it was a disease. I supposed it was—a flesh eating one that sucked the soul out of you.

  “I take it you’re still fighting?”

  “No. We’re over.” I punctuated the statement with a fist on the bar.

  “Since when?”

  “Since I found her ex at her house tonight and she kicked me out instead of him.” My words slurred slightly.

  It had been a long night filled with too much time to think and too much booze. The more I thought, the angrier I got with her. The angrier I got, the more I drank. It wasn’t a good problem to have that was for sure.

  “Wow that’s fucked up,” he muttered.

  “You could say that.” I flagged Toni, the new bartender, down and asked her for a beer. If Tanner wouldn’t let me do more shots, the least he could do was let the beer slide. With a wink she scurried off to do my bidding.

  “So you guys are definitely done then?”

  “Yep.” I turned to Toni and smiled when she placed the beer down in front of me. “Thanks, darling.”

  “You must be drunk if you’re saying darling. I think this is your last one, bro.”

  “Whatever,” I mumbled and took a healthy swig of my beverage.

  “What happened in Denver? You two looked ready to scrapple with one another. Meredith and I tried figuring it out but we came up with nothing.”

  “We found some naked chick in our room waiting for me to fuck her.”

  Tanner spit his beer out and choked. “Are you shitting me?”

  I shook my head in answer and took another drink.

  “Did you have a threesome with her?”

  I shook my head again and cursed. It was starting to feel really heavy on my neck.

  “Did you suggest it and she got mad at you for being a pig?” he tried guessing again.


  “No.”

  “Well that’s boring. So what happened after you found the chick? Was she hot by the way?”

  “She was all right.” I shrugged. “Rissa accused me of sleeping with her if she hadn’t been there. Then she went on and on about Cassandra and how I slept with her and now was going to work with her.”

  “Sounds all sorts of fucked up.”

  “I guess.” I downed the last of my beer and scowled at the empty bottle. “You know she couldn’t even tell me if she cared about me. What kind of cold hearted bitch does that?”

  “I don’t think you mean that,” he said lightly. “A cold hearted bitch is one who tries to fuck you with another man’s jizz inside her.”

  “No I do mean it. She and Lucy are two of a kind.” I nodded my head vehemently.

  “You might feel otherwise in the morning. Let’s get you out of here.” He stood up and gripped my bicep in an attempt to pull me from my chair.

  “I’m not ready to go,” I complained when he succeeded in getting me out of my chair.

  “Don’t care. I told you that was your last one.” He herded me out the door towards his truck.

  “Since when are you the responsible one?” I snickered.

  “Good question, bro.”

  TWENTYFOUR

  The following weekend, I was through being mad at Clarissa and discovered that underneath my anger was nothing but sadness.

  She had called and left me a voicemail, but I just couldn’t bring myself to call her back. I was so tired of fighting. If she wanted to talk, she could find me for a change.

  It was the night of her cousins’ wedding and instead of getting dressed up and taking her like I was supposed to, I was sulking in Ed’s garage while he tinkered with an old Chevy Impala he bought years ago and was trying to restore.

  “Hand me that wrench?” Ed held his hand out and I placed it in his palm.

  “How long you going to be doing that?” I asked him a while later when there was shit on television and he still had his head under the hood.

  “You’re the one who interrupted me. Remember?”

  “Yeah I guess.” I got up and grabbed a beer from the mini-fridge he kept out there. Popping the top, I took a long swallow.

  “Why do you need a babysitter anyway?” He lifted his head and gave me a smirk.

  “Fuck you. I’m not a child. I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “No. You’re miserable and I’m guessing it’s because of Rissa,” he deduced.

  “That too,” I admitted on a sigh.

  “You either need to forget about her or go fix it with her.” He set his wrench down and leaned against the bumper of the car.

  “It isn’t that easy to fix. She chose him again and I’m tired of the back and forth with her.”

  “Okay then. There’s your answer. Forget about her.”

  “What if I don’t want to? Not really anyway. It would be easy if I did but part of me still wants to be with her.”

  Ed picked up a rag and began wiping his hands on it looking lost in thought. I sipped on my beer and contemplated if it really were as easy as he made it seem.

  “One time Ella left me before we were married. She wasn’t sure she wanted to marry me. Something about me never listening to her. Imagine that?” He gave me an impish grin and I chuckled. “I chased after her for a while, trying to win her back. All it did was drive her farther away. It wasn’t until I told her I was going to respect her wishes and leave her alone that she eventually came around.”

  “What does that have to do with Rissa and me?”

  “For being a smart man, you sure are a stupid son of a bitch sometimes,” he said on a sigh. “What I’m saying is stop the push and pull with her. You can’t keep fighting her. Tell her you understand where she’s coming from and that you respect her wishes. Once the dust settles if she still wants to be with you she will, and if she doesn’t then you’ll know you need to move on.”

  “I don’t know,” I hedged. It seemed like a sound strategy, but at the same time I was sick of always having to have one. I guess Pat Benatar was right, love really is a battlefield.

  “Do you want to be with her?” he asked with aggravation in his words like he was talking to an errant child.

  “Of course I do.” I needed her like I needed my next breath. It was impossible to be without her as I was finding out the hard way.

  “Then go find her, you idiot, and actually hear her out this time.”

  “What is that supposed to mean? I listen to her.”

  “From the story you told me, it sounded like you jumped to conclusions before blowing up and leaving. That isn’t listening to her. There could have been a reasonable explanation for what he was doing there,” he countered.

  “Maybe.” I chewed on that thought for a few minutes.

  “If you want her to come to you, then tell her that’s what you want. Women analyze men until their blue in the face and they still don’t realize we are simple creatures. She’s probably thinking you don’t want to talk to her or that if she waits you’ll come back like you always do. Go to her. Find her and tell her you’ll give her the space she wants and that the ball is in her court. If she comes back to you, great. If she doesn’t then at least you won’t be a sorry ass pining after her any longer.”

  “You do realize that if I go find her tonight and make a fool out of myself, I’m going to kick your ass.” I really hoped this would work. I was out of options if it didn’t.

  “I know you’ll try but won’t succeed. Now go grow a set and get the fuck out of here.”

  “Thanks, man.” I patted him on his back and left in order to go home and shower. I had a wedding to get to.

  *****

  Clarissa

  The chicken dance played again for the third time that night and I wanted to rip my heart out and throw it at the deejay’s head. This was by far one of the worst weddings I had ever been to.

  Our cousin Raylene had the taste of an emo girl at a hip hop concert. Everything from the gaudy fake floral decorations to the cheesy deejay made me want to break out into hives. She totally should have spent some money on a wedding coordinator.

  “Have another,” Meredith said as she sat down at our table with another round of vodka tonics. At least there was a top shelf cash bar to help pass the time away. If I didn’t think our mothers would hang us by our toes, I would have snuck out of there as soon as the bland buffet food was served.

  “Thanks,” I murmured before tipping the glass back. “Where’s Tanner?”

  “He got a phone call or something.” She waved me off and I shrugged. I didn’t really want him there anyway. He was a constant reminder of Ben. Just looking at him made my heart pang with sorrow and regret.

  “How much longer do you think we’ll have to make nice with the fam?”

  “I’d say another half hour or so.”

  “Really?” I glanced at my watch and cringed. Longest night ever.

  Downing the rest of my drink, I set the glass down making the ice cubes clink against the glass.

  “You might want to slow down there, speedy. You’re going to get drunk and sloppy. Besides it’s a cash bar which means you keep this up and all your cash is going to be gone.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll just make you buy my drinks when that happens.” I bumped her shoulder with mine and let out a small laugh. It was the best I could do these days.

  I wasn’t allowing myself to be happy. It was punishment for screwing up the best thing that ever happened to me. I was so damn afraid to let Ben in that all I ended up doing was pushing him away. He deserved better than me. That was for sure.

  A haunting piano melody started and my breath caught when I realized it was “Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word” by Elton John. Maybe the deejay wasn’t a total loser after all.

  “I love this song,” I breathed.

  “I know.” Meredith looked over my shoulder with a grin on her face. I turned to see what she was s
miling at and I immediately stopped breathing.

  Ben was there and he looked devilishly handsome in a black suit with a light blue shirt. The top buttons of his shirt were undone and he was sans tie. Was I suddenly dreaming?

  “May I have this dance?” Ben held his hand out to me. I shook the cobwebs from my brain and took it.

  He led me to the dance floor, drawing my body close to his with his hand on my back. His other hand cupped mine in between us. It felt so damn good to be back in his arms. I missed him more than I thought I would.

  My head rested on his shoulder as we swayed and I felt tears building. I was so full of fear and regret. It weighed on me every day and now that he was here it was almost overwhelming.

  Ben buried his face in my hair and lowly sang the words to the song in my ear. Tears leaked from my closed lids as I tried to deep breathe and not lose it on a dance floor in front of dozens of relatives. I tightened my grip on his hand and wished I could get closer to him.

  When the song came close to ending, my brain raced with all the things I wanted to say to him. All the things I wanted to apologize for. I was about to open my mouth to say something— what I wasn’t sure—when Ben beat me to it.

  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

  “For what,” I whispered around the lump in my throat.

  “For everything. I just wanted you to know that I’m letting you go. You need to be able to decide what you want and you can’t do that when I’m always there pressing you for more. And if this is our last dance together, I want you to know that regardless of everything else I love you.”

  He brought his lips to mine and tears began flowing down my cheeks in earnest. This was his goodbye and I felt powerless to stop it. The part of me that was paralyzed with fear of rejection and heartbreak didn’t want to stop it. I felt like I had split personalities some days.

  His tongue swept into my mouth for one last taste before he pulled away and left me standing alone on the dance floor. As he disappeared into the sea of people coming up to dance to the Macarena, I had a horrible moment of panic where I worried if letting him go was the right decision.