Cut Loose

by Julia Wolf

  He dropped his hand and gave me a perplexed frown. “What do you mean?”

  “James…I’m not offended you slept with other women. I’m glad you did.”

  He leaned away from me. “Why do you think I slept with other women?”

  His words lifted me right off the floor. “You didn’t?”

  He looked up at me and shook his head. “No, Frannie. Only you.”

  I closed my eyes. “Fuck.” I rubbed my chest and paced around the office. But I needed more room, so I went out to the living room, the whole time trying to ease the pressure around my heart. I walked back and forth in front of the windows, my mind racing over the new facts I’d just uncovered.

  James was twenty-three and had been with one woman…me. I loved him and in my secret fantasies I kept locked up and hidden from view, even from myself most of the time, I thought I could go on loving him forever. But, of course, that was just a silly dream. Reality always comes crashing in. Twenty-three was so very young. Way too young to decide to be with one woman for the rest of his life. Why the hell hadn’t he slept with anyone else? How was that even possible? Didn’t all men his age have wild oats that needed sowing?

  And the truth was, James had lied once again. I wasn’t even sure if I was upset about it or just numb. He’d seen me, in my darkest times, ten years ago, and cared enough about me to have a framed picture of me. I didn’t know if I wanted to sob from the pure sweetness of that or curl up in a ball and hide. I was good at hiding and that was always my first instinct. I could go home now, pull my comforter over my head, and pretend James never happened. Only the hole in my chest where my heart had been ripped out would be hard not to acknowledge.

  James stood by the entrance to the room, watching me warily.

  “Why haven’t you slept with anyone else? Didn’t you want to?” I pleaded.

  He sighed. “Frannie, you have to understand. I can’t just talk to people.”

  “What do you mean? I see you talking to people every day at the bar!”

  “Work is different. I can do that. Talking to someone on a personal level, getting to know them and letting them know me is extremely difficult. It’s easier for me to just be quiet and stay inside my head. But that makes it almost impossible to make friends or go on dates. I really thought after my ex-girlfriend broke up with me that I’d be alone forever. I thought I was okay with that too.” James leaned against the wall and let out a heavy sigh.

  “But why? Why would you not want to try?” I asked.

  “I tried with you, Frannie. It was a disaster. There hasn’t been anyone else I’ve wanted. Not the way I want you.”

  I clawed at the heavy spot in my chest. “But you’re only twenty-three! You have to date and be with other women. I can’t be it for you!”

  “I had a girlfriend for a long time. And why do I have to be with other women? Is there some rule I don’t know about? I want you. Only you.”

  I shook my head. “But how could you know? I feel like I’m setting myself up for heartbreak if we keep going. You’re going to realize sooner or later that you need to see what else is out there. We should just end this now.”

  I gasped as the words left my mouth. I didn’t know I was going to say it until I did. The weight in my chest got heavier and I could barely breathe. If I was making the right decision, why did it hurt so much?

  James looked angry now. He walked toward me with his hands balled in fists and a scowl pulling his mouth down. When he reached me, he gripped my shoulders—still so very carefully, even though he was so mad at me. It took everything in me not to lean into him.

  He growled, “Frannie, just because you say it, it doesn’t make it true.”

  I shuddered at his words. “I think this time I’m right, though.”

  “You’re telling me if we end this today, you won’t be heartbroken? Because right now it feels like you’ve got my heart under your heel and you’re stomping it to pieces. I don’t even understand what’s happening. What we’ve got is so good, how can you want to end it?”

  I looked up at him, which was a mistake. His eyes were watery, and he looked torn apart. All I wanted to do was hug and comfort him. And all I wanted him to do was the same. But that wouldn’t solve anything. He’d still be twenty-three and inexperienced and I’d still be fucking terrified.

  “It’s too good, isn’t it? You keep lying to me. How can I trust this? How can I trust you?”

  James smoothed his hands down my arms. “There’s nothing else, Frannie. No deep dark secrets. You know everything now. I’m an open book to you. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

  “You said that before. And maybe it’s true, but I have to ask the question to get the answer. I’m not sure if I want to keep searching for the right questions. Even if I was, it doesn’t change the fact that you need to date, sleep around, see what’s out there. This is where our age difference matters; I did all that stuff when I was your age. It’s what you’re supposed to do.”

  James flinched as if I’d physically hurt him and stepped away from me.

  “Why are you doing this? You said you were all in. You said we’d figure this out together.”

  I couldn’t answer him. I didn’t know. I was in love with him, but I couldn’t stop myself from pushing him away. Maybe this is just what I did. When things weren’t easy or straightforward, when I had to be a grown-up and make my own choices, it was easier to run and hide than face things head-on. Being with James was the most natural thing in the world, but facing that it wouldn’t always be, that we might have bumps or that down the road he might not want to be with me even when I still wanted to be with him was too much for me. It felt easier to quit rather than face the unknown.

  And if I was never disappointed by a man, by James, then maybe I’d never turn into my mother, a bitter cruel shell of a woman. If I protected my heart and kept it whole, then perhaps I’d still be myself. Except my heart already felt chipped and cracked and I knew being with James had already changed me forever.

  I straightened my shoulders and tried to smile. “Let’s just take a step back, okay? I want you to see other women, sleep around. Then we can see where we are, if you still want me.”

  “I don’t get any say in this?” James asked. He’d crossed his arms over his chest, closing me out completely.

  “I’m older and wiser. This is for the best, promise.” I tried to sound cheerful, to make it a joke, but the quiver in my voice betrayed me. Every word out of my mouth was a fucking lie, but it also felt necessary.

  “You’re older, but I’m beginning to think you don’t know shit about being in a relationship,” James said gruffly.

  I ignored his harsh words. “What about Val? She’s so sweet and clearly has a crush on you. She’d be perfect for you. And you’re already comfortable with her. I’m sure she’d love to go out with you.” I felt nauseated at the possibility of James being inside anyone else. Somehow, though, in my irrational state, it was the only way out of all this.

  “Okay, Frannie. If this is what you want, let’s do it. I’ll fuck Val and whatever girl who offers. Will that make you happy? Will it?” James paced back and forth in front of me, raking his hands through his hair furiously.

  “You’ll see, it’s for the best,” I repeated. I backed up toward the door and stumbled over my shoes, catching myself against the wall. “I’m going to go.” I leaned down and slipped on my boots.

  James was looming a few feet away when I stood up.

  “We’ll talk in a couple days, okay?” I said.

  James shook his head. “No. That’s not okay. None of this is okay.”

  I sniffled. “All right. I understand. You have my number, though, so call or text if you want.”

  James moved in front of the door. “You don’t have to do this.”

  I sighed and stepped around him. “I feel like I do, though.” I pulled the door open and he stepped back. “Bye, James.”

  I searched his eyes, wanting him to say s
omething, anything that would keep me there. But he turned around and walked away without looking back. I leaned my head against the door for a moment, then I quietly shut it and left his building.

  Twenty-Five

  The first thing I did when I went home was take down the photograph of me from above my bed and stuff it in the back of my closet. I was making irrational decisions, so what was one more added to the pile. Then I put on my comfiest pajamas, climbed under my fluffy white duvet, and cried.

  I’m not a crier, not really. Rachel cries at the drop of a hat and I always laugh at her because it takes a lot for my tears to start flowing. But today was exceptional. Today I couldn’t get the tears to stop. I knew I’d made a big, huge, colossal mistake but had no idea how to rectify it, or if I could.

  The pressure in my chest hadn’t been relieved by leaving James. If anything, it had gotten worse. In trying to spare myself from a broken heart in the future, I’d completely shattered it today.

  I’d never had a broken heart before. When my last relationship ended, it had been a relief. But this felt nothing like that. I wanted James so badly. Everything was better with him. I missed him, and we’d only been broken up for an hour. I wanted to run across the street and threaten Val’s life for ever looking at him. Luckily, I stopped myself from making that irrational decision.

  After wallowing in my bed for a few hours, I dragged my blankets to the couch, then went into the kitchen for provisions. I settled back on the couch, wrapped securely in my duvet with a jar of Nutella and a bag of pretzel rods in my lap. I flipped through the channels until I found a marathon of The Golden Girls and settled in.

  I dipped my pretzels in Nutella and laughed with the girls. I’d always thought of myself as a Dorothy, sarcastic but steady. But I was pretty sure I was just a Blanche—dramatic, indecisive, and a man hopper. Of course, I was completely lacking all her Southern belle charm and fancy satin nightgowns. What I wouldn’t give to sit on a lanai in Florida with my girls, hashing out my problems over a cheesecake.

  When I ran out of pretzels, I started using my fingers to shovel Nutella into my mouth. Soon my white duvet was smeared with chocolate, as were my fingers and my lips. And that’s how Laurel found me when she came home from work—chocolate-stained and laughing through tears as I watched the episode where the girls are mistaken for prostitutes and arrested.

  “Holy shit, Frannie. Are you okay?” Laurel asked.

  I looked up at my friend, who was dressed so smartly in her power pantsuit and heels. I held out my chocolatey fingers and in a wavering voice I said, “I ran out of pretzels.”

  Laurel kneeled down in front of me and put her hands on my knees. “Honey, there’s another bag of pretzels in the pantry.”

  I nodded and through tears I said, “I know. There are lots of pretzels. Pretzels everywhere. But these were the best pretzels!”

  She sighed. “I have a feeling we’re not talking about pretzels, are we?”

  “No, we’re not.” I sighed.

  “Okay, Frannie, I’m going to go change super quick, then we’re going to snuggle and order some pizza. We’ll figure it out. Deal?” She tugged the end of my hair and I gave her a watery smile.

  After she’d changed into leggings and a T-shirt and I’d washed my hands and face, we met back on the couch and cocooned together under my blanket. We decided on a large veggie pizza and once that was ordered, Laurel took my hands and faced me.

  “What’s the deal, chica? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry.”

  “James,” was all I could get out before my body was wracked with full-blown sobs.

  Laurel pulled me into her small body and rocked me against her, all while whispering that everything would be okay and that she was here for me now. I felt some of the tension leave my shoulders as I cried in her arms. Even though we were almost the same age, Laurel felt like an older sister to me. When she told me everything would be okay, I was almost convinced.

  When my tears quieted, Laurel asked, “What’d that fucker do? Do I need to go across the street and kick him?”

  I laughed a genuine laugh. “You should kick me. I broke up with him. I’m so stupid, L.”

  Her eyes widened in shock. “Why the hell did you do that? You’re crazy about him!”

  I shrugged and sniffled. “He’s twenty-three. There’s no future there. I was saving us both from heartbreak.”

  Laurel leaned back to look at me. “Now I’m getting mad at you, Frannie! Did James give you any reason to believe he wasn’t all in anymore?”

  “He keeps lying to me, L. First, he didn’t tell me he was a virgin, then he didn’t tell me he’s a computer genius, and today I found out we met ten years ago when I was dancing! And he’s had a picture of me for all these years. He recognized me when he first saw me at Bar Royal. And, Laurel,” I leaned in closer and whispered in her ear, “he hasn’t been with any other women. I’m still the only one he’s had sex with. How can he say he’ll only want to be with me? He’s going to want to go out and experience other women at some point.”

  “Those are all big things. He should have told you all of that right away. But you forgave him, so I’m not sure it’s right to hold that against him now. And god, Frannie, plenty of people only have one sex partner their whole lives and are completely happy. I don’t get it at all. Personally, I like to try out every flavor of man available, but it works for a lot of people.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think I want to be talked out of this, Laurel. I’m going to miss the fuck out of him, but I have to give him a chance to see other women. I don’t think it’s fair of me to ask him to settle on me unless he has something to compare me against.” I started crying again. “I know he’s the best. I won’t find anyone better. But I only know that because I’ve been out there. I’ve dated a hundred boring guys. How can James know he really wants me if he’s never been with anyone else?”

  The doorbell rang, and Laurel went to answer it. She came back with a box of pizza and a six pack of Natty Boh. We sat on the floor for a carpet picnic. I picked out the biggest, cheesiest slice and cracked open a beer.

  Laurel took a big bite of her pizza and held one finger up. After she finished chewing, she punched me in the arm slightly less than gently.

  “Lady, I never want to hear you say being with you is settling. You are phenomenal. Any man would be privileged to know you, let alone be in your bed and in your heart. I am positive James feels that way. I’ve seen you two lovebirds making goo-goo eyes at each other. And I’ve heard way too much of what goes on in your bedroom. That man loves you and you love him. There’s no settling on either side.”

  I took a long swig of my beer, but it only made me sadder because it reminded me of my crab lunch with James. “I think he needs to date. Maybe he’ll decide he still wants me down the line. He seemed pretty done with me when I left him earlier, though. He’ll probably find a girl his age with less baggage and who has her shit together. He deserves that.”

  “You have your shit together, Frannie. And you’ve told me James has plenty of emotional baggage himself. You love him anyway. Who doesn’t have their issues, or a past?”

  I crammed a piece of pizza in my mouth. I didn’t want to answer Laurel. I knew she was right, but I also felt right. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to convince her James deserved more than me. And I didn’t want to tell her I felt safer this way. Yes, my heart was shattered, but I still had a few shards left. If James had left me a year from now or even six months from now, he would’ve taken everything with him.

  I went to bed with a stomach ache and tossed and turned all night. I tried to put on a brave face at work the next day, but when Eliza asked if we were still going to the wine bar, I shook my head. As much as I wanted to talk to her about what was going on with her relationship, I wasn’t in the place to give advice. She looked relieved when I bowed out but also concerned. I wasn’t one to break plans like that. And I had been the one to force her to agree to go in the first
place.

  When Thanksgiving rolled around two days later, I was by myself in the apartment and I spent the day as I usually did—watching TV and eating a pre-made turkey dinner. Only this time it felt less by choice and more like I was simply alone.

  When I couldn’t take the loneliness anymore, when I couldn’t stop thinking about him, I decided to text him. Just a simple text that I agonized over for hours. I wanted to sound light and friendly, like I cared but wasn’t obsessing. In other words, the complete opposite of what I was actually feeling.

  Happy Thanksgiving, James. I hope you’re having a great day with your family. I’m still thankful to know you.

  I immediately regretted sending it, but it was too late, the words were out there. I didn’t think my text sounded as breezy as I’d intended, but it was getting hard to fake it. I stared at my phone, willing him to text back, but I finally gave up when I hadn’t heard anything for several hours. Then, just after 10:00 p.m., my phone buzzed, and my heart raced.

  Happy Thanksgiving to you too, Frannie.

  That was it. I waited to see if he’d text something else, but he never did. I almost wished he hadn’t replied at all because this response left me even emptier.

  I lay in bed that night alternating between playing “Cosmic Love” and staring at the picture of James at his desk, listening to his voice at the end of my dance recording “Still so fucking beautiful” he’d said, and yelling at the picture I’d snapped of him on the farm. I was glad Laurel wasn’t there to witness my behavior. I knew she’d be embarrassed for me.

  I told myself I’d give myself a week to grieve and be dramatic. I’d cry as much as I wanted, eat all the junk food and wear flats, then I’d suck it up and pull myself together, start working out and throw on the highest of heels. But first I’d wallow for just a little longer.

  Twenty-Six

  I was trapped, cornered.