by Ava Alise
MJ is on a small carpet next to his buddy, Josh. They play together often, and it’s nice to see he’s made a friend. I can’t imagine anything in our life-changing, and the fact that Shayla can threaten that gets under my skin.
I exit the school and pull my phone from my pocket as I approach my car.
“Hey, Dad, are you busy?” I ask.
The sound of running water echoes through the phone and then comes to a sudden stop.
“No. Why?” he asks.
“I’m going to stop by, I need a favor. You’re at home, right?”
“Yes. I’ll see you in a bit.”
There are a good two acres of land that separates our duplex from my parents’ house. My parents have done well for themselves financially. My father is an investor and has his hands in a few different areas of business, but most of his money is made in real estate and small business. He also owns a small chain of auto shops in town and a profitable auto parts store. Dad worked his ass off for years and he is now reaping the benefits. Usually, he’s at home with my mother, but he still likes to pop in at the shops every now and then.
My mother meets me at the door of my childhood home like she always does, with a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. I greet my mother then follow her to the living room where she joins my father on the couch.
“Hey, Dad,” I say.
He looks up at me from his coffee and nods.
“What did you find out about Shayla?” Mom asks.
Seated on the chair across from them, I recount the conversation I had with Julia. Worry lines my mother’s face, and annoyance slams my father’s as they listen attentively.
“That’s why I need the favor. Can you give Larry a call for me? I may need some legal help here in case she tries anything out of the way.”
“Of course. I’ll call him now,” Dad says, heading toward his home office.
“I thought it was odd that she was there,” Mom says, watching my father across the living room. “She didn’t even greet MJ. I just happened to look up as she was entering Julia’s office.”
I nod.
My mother shakes her head solemnly as she brings her coffee mug to her lips. A cool breeze slides through the room causing me to look over, and I notice for the first time that the patio doors are open. Light of the morning creeps in the quiet room, and I admire the peace my parents surround themselves in. I’ve always admired my parents. As a kid, I would watch the small things they did for each other, like the notes Mom would leave on the refrigerator for the mornings Dad had to leave before dawn, or how they always made time for each other even if it was in the middle of the night. My parents love the shit out of each other, and they taught my siblings and me the importance of love . That is why I tried so hard with Shayla after she got pregnant, and at first, things were good. After MJ was born, Shayla didn’t take too well to the changes motherhood brought, and I can’t exactly blame her; she was only seventeen. She would always ask to drop MJ off with one of our parents, and we would fight when I told her no. She was terrified and so was I, but I knew our son needed to be with us. Shayla wanted to pick her Georgia valley girl wanna-be lifestyle back up right where she left it before she got pregnant, and she resented me for wanting MJ home all the time. MJ had just turned one when things reached a head with us; we would fight for days. The three of us had separate bedrooms in the duplex, and Shayla and I would go days without having a real conversation. Not much more than “Has he eaten?” or “Can you pick up some diapers?” passed between us. She started to stay out late, and it was actually a relief; the house was peaceful. Through all of that, I still fought to stay with her. I thought it was best that MJ had both his parents together in the same home no matter what. I didn’t care how miserable she made me, I wanted it for him, and I kept telling myself things would get better. Finally, one day I bought MJ over here to my parents’ house before I headed to work since Shayla was nowhere to be found. Before I left, I caught a glimpse of MJ watching my parents; my father had leaned over and gave my mother a kiss on the forehead, and I remembered how I use to watch him. That was the moment I realized I was doing MJ more harm than good by staying with his mother. I was showing my son how to be miserable; I was doing anything but setting a good example, that’s when his peace became my number one priority, and I ended it with Shayla.
“Larry can meet with you Tuesday, 11:00 a.m. at his office,” my dad says.
“Thanks, Dad,” I say, and head to the duplex to go back to sleep.
LIZ
I read Sean’s text message twice, not realizing I’ve been holding my breath until I feel my lungs scream for air.
SEAN: Finally. Huh?
I take a deep breath and immediately hit reply.
ME: I told you I…
Wait, this asshole made me wait hours for him to respond, and when he does, he just says ‘finally’? What in the hell does that mean anyway?
My pulse beats hard through my body as I stare at my half-typed response.
I miss him so much.
Okay… New Liz…
Old Liz would text him back and wait like a kid on Christmas Eve for a reply. Old Liz would give him the power.
I look up at myself in the mirror across from my bed.
I vowed not to lose myself again, so fuck old Liz and this response right now. He will have to wait.
Taking a deep breath, I place my phone on the charging dock and lay back onto my pillows. The true effects of my ignored exhaustion and fragments of the earlier hangover creep in, and I feel my eyelids grow heavy. My bed feels like heaven. I snuggle into my mountain of pillows. Behind my eyelids, I experience flashes of my day—Ros’ selfie assault, Brooke’s ‘Rebound theory’, Sean’s delayed text, Chris’ hypnotizing eyes, Chris’ body…damn… then… black.
The sound of crying rings through a small space.
I feel like I’m being held.
Wailing sounds echo. Lights flash.
I can’t breathe. Where is she?
Della?
I can’t breathe.
Beep…Beep…Beep.
I lay in bed unmoving, attempting to gather myself from my dreams of Della and that night. I fight to catch my breath as I drown in tears.
I can’t break down.
Not now.
Reaching over, I silence my alarm then drag myself out of the bed and into the shower. As I dress, I try desperately to shake off the pain and the fear that’s rolling through my body; it’s horrifying and all too familiar. Right after Della died, I started having nightmares. They were intense and debilitating. My family, including Ros, worried, and I was too. Most nights I would awake in a cold sweat, paralyzed and sobbing uncontrollably. I really hope they aren’t starting again.
I text Ros to see if she’s ordered the Uber to take us to campus. Her first class begins an hour after mine, but we ride to school together to save money. I steady myself with a few more deep breaths and then head to the kitchen.
“Morning, boo,” Ros says with a smile. She seems so happy and carefree sipping her coffee that I decide to hold off telling her my nightmares may have started again.
I will never understand how she’s always so happy in the morning. I almost always want to kill somebody.
“Morning,” I sigh. “How’s everything? You talk to Kevin again last night?”
“No, but I noticed you stayed out pretty late. Did you have fun?” She grins with a playful gleam in her eyes.
“Um, no to changing the subject. What happened with Kevin?”
I had fun with Chris, and I can’t wait to tell her about Sean but…first things first… fucking Kevin.
“Well?” I push.
She sighs, “Kevin is a dickhead. It all started after we got to the bar. I was telling him about your drunken ass on ‘Divorce night’ and how you were out on a date. Somehow the conversation turned into what I wore and who I danced with that night. Kevin and I are only somewhat serious, I don’t question him because I trust him. I trust he woul
dn’t put me in a bad situation, and he knows he’s the only one I’m messing around with,” she says in a huff, blowing on her coffee nonchalantly. “So I called him out for being possessive, and he got crazy defensive.”
“Wow, really?” I snap around to face her.
“Yup. I told him if he was being honest with himself, he knows we have only stayed ‘together’ all these years because of our history. We grew apart a long time ago, and then I told him we should let it go. That’s when he got pissed, and it wasn’t pissed like ‘Oh, baby, I love you! We should work this out. How dare you give up’ pissed; it was ‘You will be nothing without me. You will be back on my dick in two days’ type pissed. That’s when he got the curse out of his life!”
My jaw drops, and I almost spill my coffee.
“What? He really said that?”
“Right! We argued for a long while. He was pissed, and I made him bring me home,” she says.
I shake my head, shocked into disbelief. “Wow, I’m sorry he was being such a dick.”
She sighs. “It’s okay. We were circling the drain anyway. It had to end one way or another.”
I give her a sad nod, and the room falls silent for a beat.
“So anyway… how was the date with Chris?”
“It was surprisingly fun. We ate, drank, and danced. There was this moment on the dance floor that caught me by surprise,” I say, looking down and biting my lip. I look up again wearing a sheen of embarrassment.
“He just smelled so good and well… I started touching; he started touching… Got kind of hot,” I say. I was ready to brush past this conversation and tell her about Sean, but I can’t help but blush a little bit thinking about Chris.
“WHAT!” Ros exclaims.
“Yeah, we were having a normal first date, the ‘getting to know you’ stuff, then when we got to the dance floor I just couldn’t stop touching him; it’s like my hands were possessed,” I smirk.
“Hell yeah! I knew you’d have fun with him… You were so hooked on damn Sean! Forget Sean, right!” She throws her hand up to high-five me.
“Ummm… speaking of Sean, I think you’re going to be mad at me.” I clear my throat and look away from her excited face. Her high-five hand suddenly drops.
I didn’t think this whole telling Ros thing through… I was excited to tell Sean about my divorce because I was hoping we might have a chance to start over. I’m starting to think Ros isn’t going to share in my excitement.
“I texted him and told him about my divorce.” I smile optimistically.
Ros’ stare is expressionless.
“I finally got my divorce, now Sean and I might have a chance.”
The expression on Ros’ face moves from blank to “What the fuck?”
“Liz, NO! Fuck that dickhead. Are you seriously telling me you cry over the fucker for weeks, hating him and, now that your divorce is final, all is forgiven? You’re going to just run back to him?”
“No…I mean… well, it was my fault too, I should’ve known better than to get into a relationship before the divorce was done. I never gave us a real chance, and I knew it deep down. I can’t be mad at him for not being able to take it anymore.”
“Isn’t that what you’ve been mad about all this time?!”
She puts her coffee mug down and stands up forcefully from the table. I hear a horn honking in front of our house and realize our Uber is here.
“Sean bitched out! He chased you forever, wore you down, then left you in pieces. No, Liz, fuck him! He’s a pussy!”
“Ros!” I yell at her, but she just walks away, shaking her head as she grabs her book bag off the couch.
“Don’t you do it to yourself, Liz,” she says, and storms out.
I’m stunned at her reaction, and it takes me a second to remember the Uber is waiting for me as well.
Shit. I didn’t say I was just going to forgive him and let it all go because I’ve been through pure hell. She didn’t have to react like that!
We make it to the campus around 8:30 a.m. and neither of us have said a word since we left the house. Ros gets out and heads toward the café; usually, I’d sit with her until my class starts, but the overwhelming need to get away from her wins out so I head toward my classroom. I really hate it when Ros and I fight.
Speaking to a few fellow students in passing, including Marie, I reach my building. I sit alone in the lecture hall for fifteen minutes before other students begin to arrive. Thoughts of last night’s emotional mind fuck and Ros’ yelling flood my conscience.
The professor begins class promptly at 9 a.m. and starts babbling on about our Interpersonal Communication midterm review and blah blah blah…. Robotically I attend the remaining three of my fifty-minute classes, which I have scheduled back to back.
I make it to the café around 1:15 p.m. and look around for Tank. Ros and I usually meet up with him for lunch right before their 2 P.M. chemistry class. Normally, I hang around either studying or getting in a quick workout until their class is over then Tank drives us home. Not seeing either of them anywhere, I grab an empty table.
Maybe I should text Sean, but what should I say… something snarky? Indifferent? Should I tell him we should meet up?
I take a deep breath.
Okay. New Liz.
“Zee Zee.” The familiar husky voice snaps me out of my thoughts.
“Tank!” I yell excitedly and stand to throw my arms around him.
“Damn, you miss me?” he says, laughing.
“Shut up!” I say, smacking his arm. “How was your trip, you’ve been gone too long?”
“I had a ball! I almost felt bad for using the ‘My sister is in the hospital’ excuse on the professors, but as soon as I saw Lacy in that bikini… Let’s just say that guilt was the last thing I was feeling,” Tank says.
“Oh, so she pulled out the big guns, huh?” I say, returning his smile.
“She pulled out a big something, but it wasn’t guns.” A devilish gleam passes his eyes.
“Ew, you nasty little perv!”
“Haha, you walked right into that one, Zee.”
Tank’s bright smile can light up any room. His smooth caramel complexion and gorgeous brown eyes paired with more charm than one person can take usually have the girls falling at his feet. Tank is a ladies man by nature, always has been. Anytime Grayson and I would double date with him in high school, he never brought the same girl twice. Fortunately, he has calmed down since and has been seeing a girl named Lacy for about a month now.
Ros finds us about five minutes later.
“Welcome home. How was the trip with the girlfriend?”
“We had a great fucking time…haha… Pun intended,” he says.
“So, what happened while I was gone? Liz, looks like you’re finally through with that asshole.”
“Uh,” Ros says, looking at me.
I sigh.
“What’s up with y’all?”
Ros wastes no time bringing him up to speed on ‘Divorce night’, my text to Sean, and our fight this morning. I immediately fill him in on Ros’ crazy as shit overreaction. Tank calls us both out on our shit and settles our fight.
“You can’t be mad at her for having hope for the clown. Even though he’s a dumb fuck, she loves him,” Tank says, pointing to Ros.
“And you, Liz, you can’t be mad at her for not wanting you to deal with the dumb fuck anymore. Shit, I want to beat his ass myself,” he scolds, pointing at me.
I huff and sigh audibly.
“I just don’t want to see him hurt you again, Lizzy. I hated seeing you in so much pain,” Ros says.
“I get it, okay. I really do, but I’m in control this time. I won’t let him rip me apart again. I vowed it to myself, and I promise it to y’all.”
“You just better tread carefully this time, Zee, because if he hurts you again, next time no amount of pleading will stop me from beating his ass… got it?” Tank says in his trademark “no bullshit” tone.
“Yea
h.”
The two downers leave for their class, and I head to the gym to change into my workout gear so I can hit the track. I stretch and gaze around the empty quarter-mile oval.
Ros and Tank will see, I got this. It’s about me now. I can’t—WON’T—give him that much power anymore.
I bank around the curve in the middle of my third lap at a pace that’s somewhere between a sprint and a jog. My heart pumps in sync with the pounding of my feet, and I zone out to ‘Happy’ by Pharrell Williams blasting through my earbuds. At the end of my third lap, I fall into a full sprint for two more laps.
Damn, I’m out of shape; legs aren’t used to this anymore.
I struggle to control my breathing and ignoring the burning in my legs, and I push myself through the last lap. Finally, I feel euphoria as the endorphins from my runner’s high kick in. It feels foreign and familiar at the same time… Fucking amazing, almost as good as sex. Well, I guess it’s been a while since I experienced that too.
Reaching the end of my lap, I fall onto the grass and try to catch my breath.
Sex. I can’t believe it’s been months. Sean was so good, always so gentle, and knew where and when to touch and kiss me. Mmmmm. Maybe I should text him now.
I dust the grass and dirt off myself and head toward the locker room for a shower… still with Sean and his perfect D game on the brain.
Why did running just make me horny? I’m so weird.
I reach my locker and pull out my phone to text Sean.
Hmm. I think I’ll play this cool and unaffected. He doesn’t know I’ve been a complete mess over the last month and a half.
I unlock my phone screen, which proudly displays a selfie of Ros and me from ‘Divorce Night’, not a picture of Sean and I pre-breakup anymore.
1 NEW MESSAGE
SEAN: So what now, Liz?
Surprised to see another text from him, I stop mid-stride and sit on the bench in the locker room.
ME: What do you mean ‘what now’?
