I’d say my heart sinks but that would involve still having one. I back through the stockroom door, grasping my chest and gasping for air. This isn’t real. This isn’t happening. I pinch my skin, praying I wake up from this nightmare, but I’m still living in it.
I find Nate sitting in the back on his break and I go to him. He makes some sly joke I don’t register and I collapse on a sturdy stack of boxes beside him. I fix my dead gaze on him, not really seeing him, and for once he stops talking.
“I think Aiden has a girlfriend.” My head falls to my chest and tears burn my sockets. Two days ago we were still talking. Sexting. Whatever. What happened? When did this happen? How could this happen?
In one fell swoop I lost everything—a potential future, a boyfriend, but also a best friend.
I wipe the tears away and cry into my friend’s chest. He hates my ex, but he’s being a damn good friend right now consoling me and letting me cry into his shirt.
The traitor calls my name and I have to get back to work. “Want me to kick his ass?” Nate grins at me, begging me to say yes.
“No. Let me do it.”
I walk past Aiden, giving him my best—or is it worst?—death glare. I’m a little crazy and unhinged right now and I wouldn’t be surprised if customers ask me why steam is coming out of my ears.
I avoid him the entire night and as we close he sends Nate home. He runs out the door—thanks for the support, bud—and now I’m all alone with the man who’s broken every last remnant of my heart.
I don’t talk to him and he doesn’t pry. When we’re walking back from the bank he confesses. He should wish he was in confession because a priest wouldn’t have the violent thoughts I’m having against him.
“I need to talk to you.” My chin trembles because of what’s coming. I clench my jaw to stop the motion. I don’t want to break down in front of him again. Nausea kicks in full blast in my stomach and if I don’t get to my car soon I might vomit all over his shoes. On second thought that might not be so bad.
“I’ve started seeing someone.” We’re walking down the side hallway to our cars and I stop in my tracks. I lean onto the wall and bite my lip, pinching my eyes closed and shaking my head back and forth like a crazy person. I’m just praying I don’t lose it in front of him. “I wanted you to hear it from me.”
“I already know.” I murmur but the echo of the hallway makes it sound stronger, an effect I’m happy about.
“What?”
“I overheard you on the phone earlier.” I walk, well, shuffle down the hallway, using the wall to support my weight. If I let go now, my knees will collapse, and I’ll be left on the concrete floor.
I don’t look at him. We make it to the end of the hallway and open the door. The cool winter air hits me in the face, invigorating me. I take a deep breath, allowing the fresh air to enter my lungs and give me strength.
I stop right outside the doors and he stops with me. I turn to face him. His eyes flood with despair and he seems genuinely upset to be telling me this. He’s a fucking liar. Someone get this man an Oscar.
“How dare you?” My voice is calm, quiet. It’s eerie even to my own ears. I don’t think he was expecting the ire laced in my tone.
“Less than two whole months ago you dump me, after fucking me, by telling me you’re not ready for a relationship. That you don’t want to be tied down or committed. Then you string me along for another month so I can blow you in the bathroom at work. Oh! And that’s not all! You come to me two fucking days ago wanting pictures so you can get off while away with your fucking family. Two days ago. Now you’re telling me you have a fucking girlfriend? How fucking dare you. You used me. You lied to me countless times. I was ready to transfer back to Queen Silvercrest Mall so we could be together again. I—”
It’s on the tip of my tongue. I love you. But I can’t say it. “I can’t believe you. You’re such a fucking douchebag.”
He flinches but otherwise doesn’t react. He doesn’t get mad or yell at me. He’s indifferent, and that hurts the most. I need something from him. I need to know, even now, after everything, that we had something. I need a fucking reaction.
Every nerve in my body is on fire. I’m tense, ready to pounce, ready to be reckless. I want to take it out on him. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t grasp how much he’s ripping me apart from the inside out.
I turn to walk away. “Chels.”
“No.” I spin back and slap him as hard as I can across the face. His glasses fly off and hit the gravel of the parking lot. For a moment guilt consumes me over the fact I lost control. But mostly I feel good. I stare down at my hand as if I can see how it’s stinging. My palm is red, angry, just like me.
He looks at me, mouth agape, shocked. He wasn’t expecting that. It would be hard for him to predict when I didn’t even know I would hit him.
He bends down to pick up his glasses and I hope the frames are shattered like my heart. Somehow, we’re still in sync, and we both storm off together to our cars, slamming the doors behind us and driving away.
∞ ∞ ∞
The following weeks were pure torture. I realized I went a little crazy on Aiden and was the bigger person. I apologized, something he never gave me.
“Aiden, look. I’m sorry I slapped you. Well, not really, but I’m sorry I slapped you hard enough for your glasses to go flying. I’m glad they didn’t break, well, I’m glad I don’t have to pay to replace them.” I offer a small smile so he knows I’m joking and I’m in shock when he smirks back. “I have one request. After everything you put me through, I think I deserve this one thing.” He nods, watching me. “Just…don’t bring her here. Please. I can’t take it.”
He made me that promise a few weeks ago, and he’s upheld his end of the bargain since, and I’m grateful. I’m still crying myself to sleep every night, and I don’t leave my bed unless it’s a dire emergency.
I overheard my mom asking my sister if I’m depressed and what she should do about it. I never came out and told her about my relationship with Aiden, but she knew I was spending all my time with him and now I’m not. Has she never had her heart broken?
Tonight I’m back at work, and Nate comes skipping up to me in a creepy-good mood. I’m afraid he’ll detail his sex life to me again and I can’t deal with that today.
“Guess who I saw at dinner last night.” He singsongs all giddy and proud and bursting with this secret.
I don’t even have energy to give him a deadpan response because my nerves are fried. I want him to get on with it. I glance at him, devoid of all emotion. We’re night and day, light and darkness, euphoria and despair.
“Aiden and his new girlfriend.”
I peer down at my chest because I could swear a dagger just speared me through the heart. I sit on a bench and try to take a deep breath. My hands curl into fists and my nails break skin. My jaw cramps and I wasn’t even aware I was clenching it.
“Why are you telling me this?” I wipe my eyes before any tears can fall.
I know he’s dating someone, he told me so himself. But there’s a huge difference between being aware of something and hearing about it from a third party.
“Because he’s a dick. I went over to his table, asked how you were doing and who the blonde bimbo was, not in so many words,” she’s blonde, of course she is. “and then told her how much of a douche he is. They’ll break up. I’m hoping he quits. She’s from Tennessee and they were high school sweethearts.”
He shrugs, nonchalant, and unaware every word he utters is a stab to my chest. “Why did you have to bring me into it?” Nate can be a total dick, but this even seems to cross the line for him.
“Because I want him gone. He hurt you and now I’m trying to hurt him.”
“I appreciate it, but I can fight my own battles.”
“Oh, that’s not all. I also wanted to warn you I’m telling Seth about your relationship with him. If he doesn’t want to quit on his own, I’ll get him fired.”
&nb
sp; He walks away, proud of himself, and I clutch his arm. “Nate, no, you can’t. My job is on the line here too. What the fuck are you doing? Why would you do that?” Is this because he kissed me and I didn’t kiss him back? Is he that vindictive?
He waves his hand as if I’m being over-dramatic. “Please, Seth won’t fire you. Aiden’s the manager. He’s the one who abused his power here. Seth will see that too.”
“Aiden’s his best salesperson, Nate. Do you think he’ll fire his best employee like that?” I snap my fingers. “No, instead he’ll get rid of me. And this whole thing with him and I started before he was a manager. There was no abuse of power. It was consensual. Don’t do this.”
I don’t want to get fired, but Aiden shouldn’t get fired either. It’s not his fault Nate’s being an asshole and I’m the reason he knows. This is such a fucking mess. God damn it, Nate.
Reese is working tonight, which is lucky for me, so Nate can’t tell Seth and I don’t have to deal with the repercussions of my ex on top of it all. I run to where Reese is standing and get the bathroom key from him.
Every time I enter this bathroom now I have flashbacks of my sexcapade with Aiden. I thought I had power over him that day. He came so fast you’d think I had a magic mouth. Now I’m standing in the same spot by the sink and begging him for forgiveness.
Nate knows and he’s telling Seth about us. I’m sorry.
I pull at my hair as I wait for his response. I’m shocked when my phone vibrates within seconds of pressing send.
I know. I’ll take care of it.
I’m sorry.
I have nothing else to say and he doesn’t respond. I leave the bathroom and don’t talk to Nate for the rest of the night. I won’t forgive him for this.
∞ ∞ ∞
“Chelsea, can I talk to you for a second?” Seth corners me at work and my heart rate spikes. I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop ever since Nate dropped his bomb on me.
I try to act as normal as possible though I’m sure he can see right through me. “What’s up?” My arms hang by my side, awkward and uncomfortable. What do I normally do with my hands?
“I have to ask you something. It’s been brought to my attention that you and Aiden were involved in a relationship and now I’m obligated to ask if it’s true.”
I don’t hesitate. “No, it’s not true at all.” I’m not even lying at this point because there is nothing between Aiden and me and maybe there never was.
He smiles now, nodding. “I didn’t think so, but like I said, I had to ask.” He goes back out onto the floor, leaving me a little stunned.
Is it so hard to believe anything could happen between me and Aiden? ‘Cause it did happen, so why is it so unbelievable? I can’t ask anyone this, but the question plagues me. What’s so wrong with me?
30
You’re Not Sorry
New Year’s comes and I’m sick to my stomach imagining Aiden kissing her as the ball drops. I’m becoming increasingly numb and I need something to make me feel again. I decide the best bet is to inflict pain on myself in the form of a tattoo.
I get hakuna matata tattooed on my inner arm between my armpit and elbow. The Lion King has always been one of my all-time favorite movies and I figure ‘no worries’ isn’t the worst sentiment to have etched on my body for all of eternity.
I spend most of January the same way I spent December—lying in bed, in the dark, and solely coming out for food and work. When school starts back up, I fight tooth and nail to drop out this semester, but my parents don’t let me. I research schools to transfer to, and I’ll go through the motions for this last semester.
When February rolls around, the depression that has consumed me intensifies. Who wants to think about love and relationships with my recent history?
Noelle comes into my room and closes the door. It’s Valentine’s weekend and, unlike me, she’s in a happy relationship. I expect her to give me some tough love or ask me how I’m doing. Instead, she sits down on the edge of my bed and hesitates to say anything. I don’t speak, either. I have nothing to say.
“So, you know my friend, Jenna? She was dating one of Aiden’s friends. I think you met him before though you may not remember. But… she told me something I think I should tell you but I don’t know how to.”
I’m already dead inside. Nothing my sister can tell me at this point would do anything. I stare at her—I’m a numb, emotionless robot—and wait for her to say whatever she needs to say.
She sighs, almost wincing. “Aiden is asking her to marry him.”
There was a moment, admittedly a foolish one, where I believed someday he’d come back to me. That he’d see I was the woman he was meant to be with and he would understand how deep-rooted my love for him was
He doesn’t realize I would go to any and all lengths to please him and be with him, to make him happy and help him through anything. Granted, I never spoke the words “I love you” to him, but I thought my actions said it all.
I thought I was dead inside. I thought I was numb and nothing could touch me.
I was wrong.
Hearing those words for the first time, finding out the truth from somebody else, somebody who wasn’t even close to him, guts me.
The pain slices right through me, making me ill. It’s as if someone has beaten me to a pulp and I’m gasping for air. I swear, someone has shoved a knife into my heart and was now twisting it with slow, painful precision. It’s excruciating.
Finding out the love of your life is getting engaged, ultimately married, to someone else; there is no easy way to describe that emotion. My heart is crushed, obliterated—there’s no fixing it, no way to glue the pieces back together because they’re too damaged to be repaired, as if someone took a hammer to the already shattered remains, there was no turning back now.
That initial heartbreak is nothing to how I feel now. I wish I was dead inside. I wish I was numb. I don’t want to suffer through this.
I go into work the next day knowing I would see him. When his shift starts and he walks into the store, another piece of me breaks.
“So I guess congratulations are in order.” I attempt to seem optimistic and happy for him while hiding my true feelings of the ever-twisting knife.
He looks confused at first, but recognition dawns and pity floods his eyes. I move away from his gaze. It’s too painful to see him feeling sorry for me. “Not yet. How did you find out?” His voice is soft, tender. I used to love his voice. It was my favorite sound in the entire world. Here, now? I hate it. All it does is bring me more hurt.
“I heard from a friend who knows you.” I shrug, picking at an imaginary piece of lint on my pants.
“I wanted to be the one to tell you.” The pain wouldn’t have lessened in the slightest hearing it from him.
At least hearing it from a third party allowed me to put on my best show and not allow him to see my real feelings written all over my face. I refuse to break down crying in front of him, yet again, and especially at work.
Inside I’m not only broken, but fury lives within me. He goes from not wanting a commitment to proposing to someone else two months after we stop hooking up.
Did he cheat on her with me? What are the chances they started dating two days after he and I ended things? They may have been talking, but he lied to her too.
A part of me has slight joy in knowing I’ll be his last before the last. I’ll always be a part of his history. He’ll always remember me as the last person he was with before his wife. He can’t erase me. I’ll forever be burned into his life, his history.
At least a part of me will remain etched with him since his entire being is burned into my memory. Every touch, every moment, every encounter remains stored in the depths of my brain, torturing me, while he moves on and marries someone else.
For me, it’s always been him and for him, it’s always been her.
It’s not fair.
∞ ∞ ∞
After learning about the engag
ement and dealing with the accompanying heartache, I do what every girl in the history of the world does—I change my hair.
I could’ve been more subtle about it, but I’ve said it before and it’s true: subtlety is not my strong suit. So, I call up a friend who does hair and we go buy a box of hair dye and an hour later my hair is black.
I receive a lot of ‘holy shit’ reactions, but at least now my external appearance matches my internal misery. It’s possible I’m being a little dramatic, but every girl does it. I’m just more extreme than the rest.
In addition to my new changes, I’ve begun a new downward spiral, just as Dan so lovingly put it. I’m sleeping around and drinking more, but nothing makes me feel anymore.
One thing’s for certain, I’m sure as shit not going back to Dan. I don’t care if he swore to be there for me or not, it will never happen and that’s one promise to myself I’ll never break. I may have gotten dumped, and now I’m lonely, but I’ll never be that lonely again.
The months blur and somewhere along the line, I trick myself into believing I’m all better—shiny and new. Pieces of me duct tape themselves together and I find some semblance of normalcy. I get into another college. I go back out with my friends. I even become friendly with Aiden again.
My heart isn’t healed and a part of me is convinced it never will be perfectly whole again. He was my first love, and he broke me irreparably.
In the beginning of June, Sadie calls me at the store, requesting to talk to me.
“Hey girl, what’s up?” I’m so excited to hear from her. We’ve stayed friends even after I left, and we talk all the time.
“Your man is here with the slut.” She sounds disgusted. I love her for her reaction. “Don’t worry, she’s hideous.” She laughs, and I feel lighter for the first time in a while.
“Punch him in the face for me.” She might which is why I tell her to do it.
On June 30, the anniversary of us, I get blackout drunk with my friends. I don’t even remember what happened and a part of me doesn’t want to.
My Almost Page 23
