Cut Short

by Julia Wolf

  When the concert ended, and after we said goodnight to all our friends, Joe and I stood face to face in the quiet park, just staring at each other for a long moment.

  “I’m really tired. I think I’ll just go back to my place,” I said.

  He looked down at his feet. “Okay. I’ll walk you.”

  I shook my head. “That’s okay. You don’t have to.”

  “Rachel, just fucking let me walk you home,” he growled.

  With his guitar on his back, he held my hand tightly on the five-minute walk to my building. He let go when I unlocked my door, then stepped inside after me.

  Joe wrapped his arms around me from behind, and I allowed myself to lean back into him for just a moment.

  I stepped away and turned to face him, steeling myself. “Why were you heartbroken, Joe?”

  He ran his hands through his hair. “I missed you, Rachel. You ghosted, and I fucking needed you.”

  I scoffed. “Why did I ghost, Joe?”

  He sighed and reached for me. I pulled away, keeping distance between us. “Don’t do this, Rachel. It was a long time ago. This is us now. What we have is real and good and so beautiful. I know you feel that too.”

  Ignoring his words, I repeated, “Why. Did. I. Ghost?”

  “The email—I told you I didn’t want you. But god, I didn’t mean it. I just…I didn’t know how to handle what I felt for you at the time. I was so fucked up with my brother…I know I hurt you, and that kills me, even now, but what I felt for you was too big for me.”

  Tears rolled down my cheeks and dropped to the floor. “You didn’t mean it? I poured my heart out to you and you dismissed it!” I felt the hysteria from earlier bubbling back up to the surface. “For you, it was a long time ago. For me, it was just one relationship ago! I’ve tried to let it go because you’re so great and sweet, but I’ve realized I’m so mad at you, so, so mad.”

  Joe shook his head. “Oh no, sweet girl…”

  “I went right from you—loving you, wanting you—to David. And I was miserable. For years and years, I lived in this horrible relationship and the whole time I was so angry at you. I know I shouldn’t have blamed you, but I did. I let the resentment fester. When my husband told me I was a bad wife, I thought of your email. When he fucked around literally right in front of me, I thought of your email. When he belittled and berated me, I thought of your email. And now you’re telling me you didn’t mean it? I don’t even know how to feel right now.”

  I covered my face and sobbed, but didn’t fight when Joe put his arms around me. My body shook as I cried. I felt heavy and exhausted and wanted to go to bed for days.

  I gently pushed him away. “Can you go? I need some time.”

  “I don’t want to leave you like this. I love you so much, sweet girl.”

  “No! No, no, no!” I cried, pushing more forcefully against his chest. “You don’t get to say that to me right now. Do you have any idea how much I’ve wanted to hear that from you, and now you’re using those words to soothe me, like they’re a balm?”

  Joe looked horrified. “No, Rachel. I don’t mean it like that. I’ve wanted to tell you, I just…” He yanked his hair hard.

  “Please, just go. Please,” I pleaded desperately.

  He nodded, looking utterly defeated, and opened the door. He pounded the doorframe with his fist. “Don’t ghost, Rachel. I’ll give you tonight, but we’re going to talk.”

  I sniffled. “I won’t ghost, but I just can’t do this right now.”

  He stepped out and I gently closed the door. I leaned against it and sighed, my tears seemingly all cried out. I missed him the second he was gone, but I was angry beyond comprehension and reason, at him, at David, but mostly at myself.

  I stumbled to bed, my head foggy from all the crying. As I lay staring at the ceiling, my skin crawling from loneliness and regret, I thought about Joe saying he loved me. I hated the timing, and while I couldn’t accept the words from him at the time, knowing he really did love me made me feel just a little bit better, and I fell asleep with his love clutched to my chest.

  Thirty

  Him: Are you okay?

  Me: Yeah, I’m okay. Just need some time.

  Him: Were you able to get some sleep?

  Me: A little.

  Him: I think my body needs you next to me to sleep.

  Me: Sorry.

  Him: I can’t believe this is happening.

  Me: I just need a little time.

  Him: Why? It’s killing me that you’re so close and I can’t see you.

  Me: I know. I don’t want to be angry at you.

  Him: Can’t we work through it together?

  Me: I’m not ghosting, Joe. Just let me have some time.

  Him: I fucking miss you, Rachel. It’s been twelve hours and I miss you.

  Me: Me too. I’m going to hang out with Frannie tonight in Baltimore. I’ll be back tomorrow.

  Him: Okay. Be careful. Can I see you tomorrow?

  Me: I don’t know. I’ll text you when I get home. That’s all I can give right now.

  Him: Okay. Talk soon, sweet girl.

  Me: Bye, Joe.

  I had slept like utter crap the night before. Joe and I had spent the night in each other’s beds every single night for the past month, and most nights the month before. He was a peaceful sleeper, and it felt like his peacefulness extended to me when I laid next to him.

  I needed to get out of Tiber City, to physically remove myself from Joe. I had been truthful in my text to him. I didn’t want to be angry at him anymore. I thought I had gotten over all those feelings as I fell in love with him, but the reality slapped me in the face last night. As it turns out, the anger and resentment had been with me all along, just trailing behind so I didn’t notice.

  Frannie greeted me with a bear hug, holding my head and rocking me back and forth. It was a little over the top and ridiculous, but I felt so comforted, I let her do it.

  “Hey, girl,” she said in a sad voice. She searched my face for a hint of emotion. “Are you okay?”

  I picked up my overnight bag and plopped it next to her couch. This would be my bed tonight.

  I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. “I’m going to be okay.”

  Frannie smiled. “I know you will. Laurel and I are going to take care of our Rachel bear today.” She yelled down the hall, “L, Rach is here, so let’s go!”

  I cocked my head to the side. “Go?”

  “Yep. We’re going to brunch. Problems like this need pancakes and bacon to solve them.”

  “You’re telling me all I needed to get past this emotional baggage was to stuff my face with pancakes and bacon? Why have you been holding out on me!?” We both smiled, and I already felt lighter, like some of the heavy burden I’d been carrying on my shoulders had fallen away.

  “Well, you see, for it to work, it has to be the perfect combination of the three F’s: food, friends, and fucking-stupid boys. Today is our day.”

  Laurel appeared from her room, looking adorable as always in a tiny sundress and wide-brimmed straw hat. “Let the brunching commence, ladies!”

  “I’m jealous! I want a hat,” Frannie whined and stomped her foot.

  “Me too. Me too,” I joined in.

  Laurel looked between us. “I hope you’re serious, because you do realize I’m going to get the two of you hats now.” She ran into her room, then returned with two more equally wide and floppy hats, which we happily put on.

  Our trio walked to a cute restaurant right on the water, and sat outside on the deck at a small table with a fabulous view. I sipped my mimosa and watched boats sail by. I couldn’t help thinking I would love to bring Joe there.

  After we ordered piles of carbs and bacon, Laurel whipped out her phone and said it was selfie time. We held up our mimosas, pursed our lips, and crowded our heads as close as they would go with our big hats on.

  “Oh my god, so cute! I ‘grammed us and sent the pic to both of you,” Laurel squealed.


  I looked at my phone and opened up the picture. Three smiling friends in ridiculous hats looked back, and though my smile didn’t quite reach my eyes, I already felt a lot better being surrounded by their positivity.

  On a whim, I sent the picture to Joe. He never left my mind, and I wanted him to see I was okay since I had been so hysterical the night before.

  Me: Frannie says pancakes and bacon make everything better, so we’re giving it a whirl.

  Him: Beautiful. Nice hats. I’m glad they’re taking care of you. I wish I could.

  Me: Everything looks better in the daylight. I need today, but I’ll see you tomorrow. I mean, if you want to.

  Him: Of course I want to see you tomorrow... Have a good time. Talk soon, sweet girl.

  Me: Bye, Joe.

  Frannie patted my leg when I put my phone away. “Everything okay?”

  I sighed. “I’m going to figure out how to get over this. I love him so much,” I choked out the last words, my eyes filling with tears yet again.

  “Did you tell Joe about seeing David yesterday?” she asked.

  I looked down at my hands and shook my head.

  Frannie gasped. “You didn’t think that was pertinent information?”

  “Why? I would have been upset last night whether or not I had run into David.”

  “Really, Rachel? You walked into La Cantina looking like you’d seen a ghost. You were already on edge before hearing about poor Joe’s broken heart and semester of emo. Don’t you think that colored how you reacted?”

  Deep down, I knew it had. I didn’t know how I would have reacted had the wound from seeing David not been so fresh, but I had a feeling I would have been far less overwrought and more willing and able to listen to Joe.

  I sighed. “You’re right, Frannie. Joe and I have some talking to do. I need some Frannie and Laurel time first, to get my head straight. Then I think I’ll be ready to listen to him.”

  “Look at me: relationship expert. You know what they say, those who can’t do, teach.”

  Laurel rolled her eyes. “How can you say you can’t ‘do’ relationships if you’ve never tried?”

  Frannie shrugged. “I come from a very dysfunctional family. My parents were terrible role models, so I’m pretty sure I’d be bad at relationships too. No man has ever struck my fancy enough to find out, anyway.”

  Plates of food arrived at the table. I had taken Frannie’s suggestion literally and ordered a stack of banana pecan pancakes and a side of bacon. I may have drooled a little just looking at it.

  The three of us were quiet as we devoured our brunch in an unabashedly unladylike manner. We had another round of mimosas, so by the time our plates were clean, we were tipsy and stuffed to the gills.

  “Oh my god, look at this food baby,” Laurel moaned and rubbed her stomach, still the size of the rest of her: tiny.

  “Please, you call that a food baby? Your pee stick is still wet. I’m fully in my second trimester.” Frannie leaned back and framed her slightly protruding belly with her hands.

  I patted them both. “Ladies, ladies, no need to compete. Both of your engorged bellies are beautiful.” They burst out laughing at my serious tone, and I couldn’t help but join them.

  “I need to work some of this brunch off. Anyone want to take a walk around and do a little retail therapy?” Laurel asked.

  We spent the rest of the afternoon walking around shopping, talking, and laughing. By the time we got back to Frannie and Laurel’s apartment to get ready for our evening out, I felt clear-headed, and much of my sadness had drifted away. My friends were the perfect balm to my fragile heart. They reminded me that no matter what—Joe or no Joe—I was already loved completely and uncomplicatedly.

  I was dozing on the couch when Laurel shook my shoulder. I rubbed my eyes and sat up, yawning and stretching my arms over my head.

  “Honey, we’re almost ready to go. Do you want to use the bathroom to get changed?” I looked Laurel up and down. She was a tiny little thing, but she had all the right curves in all the right places and was sexy as hell. She’d traded in her sundress for a pair of lace-up suede shorty shorts and an off-the-shoulder top.

  “You look so pretty, L.”

  She giggled. “You’re pretty too, Rach. Now, scram!” She swatted my bum as I walked by her, and I yelped. She was surprisingly strong for someone so small.

  I hadn’t had the heart to tell Laurel I was already dressed for the evening. I had on destroyed boyfriend jeans, a dark purple racerback tank, and when we left, I’d throw on my white Chucks. In the bathroom, I brushed my teeth, put on a little makeup, and pulled my hair into a high ponytail. I thought I looked presentable, but it’s not like I’d be on the prowl for a man tonight.

  My girls were doing shots in the kitchen when I emerged. Frannie wore a tight, sleeveless knee-length T-shirt dress that would have looked casual on anyone else. However, the way it fit her, with her slim build and long, graceful limbs, every angle and curve of her body was on full display. She was glorious, and I worried about the men who would hurt themselves just to get a good look at her.

  I downed a shot of Fireball and growled as it burned my throat. I warned them, “Before anyone complains about what I’m wearing, we’re only going to Bar Royal and I’m on the outs with my boyfriend. So go easy on me.”

  Frannie rolled her eyes at me. “You are not ‘on the outs,’ silly goosey. I think you look cute as hell, as always. Don’t listen to Laurel. She’s so buttoned up in her suits all week, she can’t wait to go out in her skimpiest outfits.”

  Laurel nodded solemnly. “She’s right. She knows me so well. My skin needs to be exposed to air or I might implode.” Frannie and I burst out laughing at the earnestness in her voice.

  After another throat-burning shot, the three of us walked over to Bar Royal. For a Sunday night, it was fairly crowded. Although, it was mostly late twenty and early thirty-something professionals who would leave by ten to get home in time for a good night’s sleep before going to work in the morning.

  “Can we sit at the bar, or do we have to avoid Beardo?” I asked Frannie.

  “I doubt he’s working tonight. But I don’t avoid. I confront. Besides, I’ve ordered from him many times since the jackhammering incident. No big deal.” Frannie shrugged and turned away.

  Laurel and Frannie waved at people they knew and stopped to kiss and hug friends we passed as we made our way to the bar. I was feeling no pain after the two shots I’d taken in quick succession at their place, so I happily followed without question.

  We bellied up to the bar, and wouldn’t you know it, Beardo came sauntering up to us, his eyes zeroing in on Frannie as he threw a towel over his shoulder.

  “Hey there, handsome,” Laurel cooed. He turned away for a moment, and when he looked back, I swore he was blushing. It seemed incongruous for this big hunk of a man to be shy.

  “What can I get you ladies tonight?” he asked in a deep, yet softer than expected voice.

  “How about the girliest drinks with the highest alcohol content? And they need to have little umbrellas,” Laurel ordered.

  I glanced at Frannie and noticed her biting her lip and looking everywhere but at Beardo. That seemed rather curious, since she kept telling us ordering from him was no big deal at all.

  When he went to concoct our drinks, I asked Frannie, “Are you sure you’re not still into him? Your lip is taking a lot of abuse right now.” I pointed to her bottom lip still between her teeth.

  Frannie shook her head. “He’s hot as hell in a kind of lumberjack way. But I’m so over him.” Her eyes were glued to his broad back, and I had a feeling my friend was still quite under him, but I let it go.

  Our drinks were an original creation by Mr. Beardo. They were electric blue and each drink had three pink umbrellas decorating them. They were sugary and tasted like pineapple, but with a strong kick after every sip.

  After a round of pool and another round of blue drinks, the three of us were dancing around the
bar even though there wasn’t a dance floor to be found. When I first met Laurel, she wasn’t as well-versed in nineties dance moves as Frannie and me, but we took her under our wings and taught her the ropes. The bar had Top Forty music playing, but that didn’t stop us from doing the Sprinkler around the foosball tables, then butterflying our way around the high-top tables. For our finale, we did the Carlton in front of the bar.

  I was on my fourth blue drink when I finally sat down at the bar again. Laurel and Frannie were back at the pool table. I doubled over with laughter when I saw the look Beardo gave me. I pointed to him and curled my finger so he’d come over.

  “Do you want some water?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

  “I think that’s a good idea.” I nodded much too vigorously, the world spinning faster than usual. “I can’t keep calling you Beardo.”

  He chuckled, the sound coming from deep within his chest. “Why would you call me that in the first place?”

  “I don’t know your name, silly!”

  He smiled kindly. “It’s James. You’re Rachel, right?”

  “You’re so nice.” The words came out slightly slurred. I was ready to admit to being pretty drunk.

  “You seem nice too. A little more…hmmm, lively than you usually are when you come in, but still nice.” He crossed his arms and watched me. I took a long swig of water, trying to clear my head a bit.

  “My boyfriend is nice. But I’m really mad at him.”

  “That’s not good. What happened?”

  “Well, if you must know, James, he didn’t love me fourteen years ago, or at least he told me he didn’t love me. So I went and found the worst guy ever and married him. And now, now, James, he tells me he just made a mistake back then! And he was heartbroken over me! Can you believe that?” I pounded my fists on the bar to punctuate each point.

  “I’m assuming at some point you divorced the worst guy ever and reunited with the other guy, who is now your boyfriend. Did I get that straight?”