The Only Rule: The Casual Rule 3

by AC Netzel

  “Julia,” he says quietly.

  “Mmm?” I hum, swallowing the lump in my throat.

  “Look at me.”

  “Can’t right now. I don’t want to lose my place,” I lie, avoiding eye contact.

  He’s silent for a long while. As each second passes, the intensity his gaze increases. I pretend my focus is on the Excel document in front of me, but the truth is, I can barely read a word through my blurred vision.

  I inhale a shaky breath and wipe away my tears with my fingertips, staring blankly at the screen in front of me.

  “Hey,” he says.

  If I look at him, I’ll fall apart. And I can’t fall apart. There’s too much to do. I promised my mother I’d soldier on and that’s what I’m doing.

  Ben stands, walks in front of me, and crouches down to eye level. He closes my laptop and raises my chin with an index finger until our eyes meet. I shut my eyes tight, the remaining tears spilling down my face.

  “Julia,” he says sadly.

  “Don’t,” I whisper, fighting the hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Don’t say it.”

  “We can’t do this.”

  “Stop.”

  “I think we should postpone the wedding.”

  I wince as I process his words, the blood draining from my face.

  “No,” I say vehemently, shaking my head in disbelief.

  “Look at you. You’re crying. We can’t go through with it. Not like this. Not without her.”

  “I’m disappointed, but we can’t call off the wedding. We just can’t.”

  “Julia…”

  I hold up a hand. “Stop talking. I’ll get over this. I’ll be fine.”

  “You will never get over it. You know it. You need her there. It wouldn’t be the same.”

  “Ben, the money. Think about all the money we’ll lose.”

  “I don’t care about the money.”

  “You don’t care? It’s a lot of money. A lot. The hall, limos, flowers, caterer. We’d lose everything at this stage.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Well, I care. We all weren’t born with a silver spoon in our mouth,” I snarl, rage filling me.

  His eyes narrow, the crease between his brows becoming more defined as his frown deepens.

  “What will people say?” I ask.

  “They’ll say we postponed our wedding because your mother was ill.”

  “They’ll be angry, disappointed. We’d let down two hundred people.”

  “They’ll get over it.”

  “No, they won’t. They’ll gossip. They’ll say you dumped me. Or one of us cheated.”

  “They can say whatever the fuck they want. I don’t care what other people think.”

  “I do. Okay? I care. People will talk. I don’t want to be part of ‘The Club’ rumor mill. Your old bang buddies whispering and gossiping I wasn’t good enough for you. You wised up and left me.”

  Angrily, I stand from the couch, nearly knocking him over. He stands, reaching out to grab my shoulder, but I shrug him off and head toward the kitchen.

  “Where the fuck is this coming from? What are you talking about? I’m not leaving you.” He follows close behind me. “And I’ve had enough of the bang buddy crap. Every time you get angry, you drag it out. I’m sick of it. I thought we were past this shit.”

  “Got a side piece lined up?” I accuse. “Or maybe you’re already fucking around on me.”

  “You know that’s not true.” The veins in his neck bulge as his jaw tenses.

  I do. I know what I said isn’t true but my anger has persuaded any sense or reason to take a vacation.

  I reach the kitchen doorway and spin around, glaring at him. Insanity has infiltrated my brain and I can’t stop it from exiting through my mouth.

  Pulling the proverbial grenade pin, I explode.

  “Cold feet, Ben?” I hiss. “At the time I thought she was joking, but Allie was right about you after all.”

  “I don’t have…”

  I hold up my hand to stop him from uttering another word. “I bet you’re relieved my mother is bedridden. You found a way to get out politely. You can hold on to your freedom and still come out of it looking like the good guy. It’ll only cost you a few bills.” I shrug. “But hey, what’s money when you’re from the land of plenty?”

  My stomach churns, sickened until I’m nauseous. My fists clench at my sides, my nails digging into my palms. I need to punch something and I lash out at the first thing I can rip apart.

  Us.

  “Calm down. I know you’re upset about your mother but don’t take this out on me. I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

  “The right thing for who? For you? It’s certainly not for me. I don’t want to call off anything. We’re past the point of no return. The wedding is five fucking days away. Five days!” I take in a deep breath and glare at him.

  “I’m only doing this once. And I want it right. I want it perfect for you. The way it is now, it’s not.”

  “Liar,” I shout.

  “Watch it, Julia,” he cautions, his tone soft but stern.

  I flip the bird and then flick my middle finger under my chin at him. My Italian temper rearing its ugly head. The room feels like it’s spinning, the walls closing in. This conversation is making me viciously angry and physically ill.

  “Lies, lies, lies,” I spit out. “I know what I see. I know what I hear and I believe the truth in front of me.”

  “I am your truth.”

  “No, Ben. It’s your truth. My mother can’t be there. I’m fine with it.”

  “You are so far from fine. You can’t think straight. I know you’re upset, but don’t take it out on me.” His eyes narrow, his voice lowering. “And don’t accuse me of things that are not remotely true. You’re becoming insufferable.”

  “Good. Suffer,” I hiss.

  We both fall quiet, never breaking eye contact. The tension between us is thick and palpable. And I feel it— the charge crackling between us— the need, the want, the hurt… even the lust—but I ignore it, choosing to hold tightly to my rage instead.

  “I want a future with you but not like this,” he says quietly. “Not like this.” Defeated, he shakes his head, waving me off, and heads down the hallway.

  “Oh no you don’t,” I yell. Unable to stop myself from making the situation worse, I chase after him. “You don’t just cancel my wedding and run off.”

  He spins around, facing me. “Our wedding,” he snarls.

  “It used to be ours,” I retort.

  “Enough,” he shouts, waving his hands in the air. “Enough of this bullshit. Fuck it, Julia. Fuck it all.”

  I stop in my tracks and take a quick step back, momentarily stunned at the volume of his voice. My defiance and fury, or whatever this is, bubbles back up to the surface, unable to let go.

  “I’m going to be there. At the church in front of God, our family, and friends. In my white dress. Holding a ridiculously huge bouquet of flowers. And if you don’t show… If you stand me up at the altar… We’re done.”

  He stares at me coldly then leans in close to my ear, his cheek rubbing against mine.

  “Then we’re done,” he whispers, low and menacingly.

  My eyes widen in disbelief. How did this escalate so quickly? Everything is unraveling, but there’s something in me that won’t stop the madness.

  “I never want to see you again.” I turn around to leave, my breathing ragged and my heart beating wildly.

  Ben grabs my wrist, stopping me mid-spin. I glare at him, enraged. I’d think he’d at least flinch at the daggers my eyes are shooting at him, but he stands tall, his jaw clenched tight.

  “That’s your choice.” His words sting like a slap across the face. He releases my wrist then raises his hands in surrender.

  I huff as I head back into the living room. Spotting a couple of coasters sitting on the end table, I grab them and fling them in his direction.

  “That’s
what I think of your stupid coasters,” I shout, watching them ricochet off his body down to the floor. I snatch my cell phone and laptop off the couch and table then head for the door, clutching my handbag from the chair near the entrance.

  I grab the doorknob, but Ben prevents me from opening the door by placing a hand on it.

  “If you go,” he warns, “that’s it.”

  I twist around to face him, my back up against the door and stare directly into his eyes.

  “Then that’s it,” I say in a low, threatening voice. My knees buckle as the words leave my mouth, but my defiance helps me recover before I fall to the ground.

  He raises his arm and takes a step back, allowing me to open the door. I turn around, dramatically swing it opened, and leave.

  As quick as I can, I walk to the elevator, knowing he’s watching me from the doorway. I press the button and it opens immediately. I take one last look back.

  He leans against the doorframe, his face red, eyes cold and distant, his feet firmly planted in his spot.

  “I won’t chase after you,” he shouts down the hallway.

  He’s actually watching me go. He isn’t going to stop me.

  “Good.” I walk in the elevator and hear the doors slide closed behind me.

  I was right. I handed him an out.

  And he took it.

  ~o0o~

  .

  I stare at the stainless steel doors as the elevator begins to descend. Placing my hand over my heart, I wonder how it can still beat when I just broke it in half.

  My mother was wrong.

  I’m not a pine tree.

  I’m an oak.

  And like an oak in the wind…

  I snapped.

  Chapter 13

  *I left Ben.*

  *Left him where?*

  *Told him it was over.*

  *Where are you?*

  * Our apartment.*

  *Are you alone?*

  *Yes.*

  *Are you OK?*

  *No.*

  *I’ll be there in 15 minutes. Don’t move.*

  ~o0o~

  As I push the door to my bedroom open, my stomach drops at the sight of my wedding gown hanging from the ceiling fan above my bed.

  “Oh God.” I cover my mouth with my hand as a sob escapes. I didn’t think my heart could break anymore. I was wrong.

  So wrong.

  I walk over to the dress and glide the back of my hand down the smooth white silk. Tears well in my eyes as my fingertips trace the delicate pearls, the tiny hand sewn crystal beads, and lace. My beautiful dress. The beautiful dress that will never walk down an aisle, never have a first dance, never be worn.

  I stare down at the floor and spot my matching white shoes. I knew the heels were too high for an all-nighter, but in spite of it being impractical, I fell in love with them anyway.

  Like I fell in love with him when it wasn’t practical.

  Tears roll down my cheeks as I sink to the floor. I tip my head back and stare at the ceiling, dazed.

  “Jules?” Allie yells from the living room. I don’t have it in me to answer back.

  What happened? What happen? What happened? Over and over, it’s all I can think.

  The bedroom door swings open. Allie rushes in dressed in the pair of sweats and T-shirt I know she sleeps in. I was so wrapped up in my world falling apart. I didn’t realize how late it is. I took her out of Vince’s bed. I’m a terrible friend.

  “Oh shit,” she exclaims, staring down at me, my arms wrapped tightly around my knees, rocking myself back and forth. “Jules? Can you hear me?”

  I nod, but the lump in my throat is so big, I can’t get a word past it.

  She drops her handbag and sits next to me on the floor, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I lean into her and it all comes out of me. All the anger, frustration, and hurt I’ve been internalizing releases, and I bawl. An ugly, hard, merciless, wail.

  My body shakes uncontrollably. I gasp for air between my sobs. My chest burns, my stomach in knots. Allie continues to hold me, smoothing my hair with her free hand, allowing me to let it out.

  “Use this.” She grabs a mismatched sock off the floor and hands it to me. “Desperate times.”

  “Thanks.” I take it and wipe my runny nose.

  “Are you ready to talk now?” she asks.

  I blink a few times, straighten myself up, and nod.

  “Okay,” she says cautiously. “What happened?”

  “He… he called off the wedding and told me we’re done.”

  Her eyes widen as her head jerks back. “He what?” Her nostrils flare and her face reddens. “I’m going to kill him. I’ll find him, castrate him, and kill the motherfucker.”

  “What am I going to do?” I ask.

  “You’re going to dance on his grave when I’m done murdering him. That’s what.”

  “I should have known. I should have known he’d never go through with it.” I take in a deep breath. “You were right. He had cold feet. He didn’t want to marry me.”

  “I was joking. In a million years, I didn’t think it was true.”

  “It was. He looked me straight in the eye and told me ‘We can’t do this.’”

  Her mouth falls open. “I’m speechless. Are you sure? I mean, it’s so out of left field. He looked happy and totally down with the marriage thing. What changed?” she asks then pauses for a moment. “There wasn’t another person in the equation, was there?”

  “He claims there isn’t.”

  “You don’t believe him?”

  “Look at the way he structured his life before me. Casual friends, casual sex. Even his writing style is informal. Five days before a very non-casual event comes up, he throws in the towel.”

  “My God, you think he’s cheating on you? Julia, I don’t think…”

  “No.” I shake my head as a tiny sliver of reason takes over. “Not really. He would never do that to me.”

  “Wait a minute… your text said you left him and told him it was over.”

  “I did.”

  “So who called off what? Dammit, I’m confused as hell. Take me back to the beginning and tell me exactly what happened.”

  “Okay. We got back from visiting my mother at the hospital.”

  “That must have been tough.”

  “It was, but she was insistent that she was fine with not attending the wedding.”

  “Do you believe her? You and your mom are super close.”

  “Do I have a choice? My brothers are setting her up so she can watch from her tablet. She says it’ll be like she’s there.”

  “And you’re on board with this?”

  “Again, do I have a choice? I mean, of course, I want her there. It’s destroying me but I have to buck it up. The wedding is… was… five days away. There’s nothing that was going to change it. I had to accept it and I did—at her request—with her blessing.”

  “So, you got your mother’s approval to go ahead. I’m sure that was some relief.”

  “More like the consolation prize, but,” I shrug. “Whatever.”

  “Okay, what happened when you got back to the city?”

  “I was working on the stupid seating arrangements. Then Stuart and my sister start sending me texts about crap I don’t feel like dealing with. Back and forth with their issues. I have enough shit on my plate, you know?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Between my mother and Jackie Faux’s seating notes, I was getting frustrated. Allie, I don’t know half the people invited. It made me think about what a circus it’s become. Then I thought, at least my immediate family and friends would be there so I could tolerate it.”

  “Tolerate your wedding day?”

  I frown. “That sounds bad. I guess I don’t mean it that way. I was looking forward to it. Anyway, I saw my mother’s name on the guest list and I lost it. You’d expect that, right?”

  “Sure.”

  “Ben saw I was crying and came over to me.” I turn to her. “All
ie, I knew what he was going to say before he said it. I told him not to say anything, but he didn’t listen.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said, “We can’t do this.”

  “Wait a minute… he said ‘we can’t do this’ after he saw you crying over your mother?”

  “He said we should postpone the wedding until my mother was well enough to come.”

  “Postpone? There’s a huge difference between postponing and outright calling off a wedding.”

  “I told him I was fine with her not being there and reminded him about all the money we’d lose. He said he didn’t care about the money. That’s a boatload of cash he was ready to give up so easily.”

  “HmmMmm.”

  “And Al, what are people going to think when we cancel our wedding five days before?”

  “Who the fuck cares what people think?”

  “I guess I do. I’ll be the subject of endless gossip.”

  “So? Who cares what other people say? You never did before. You can’t live your life worrying about what someone might say about you.” She tilts her head and frowns. “Who the hell are you and what did you do with my friend?”

  “That’s pretty much what he said. Anyway, things got ugly. I accused him of having cold feet and lining up a side piece.”

  She closes her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Oh Jeez, what else did you say?”

  “That he was relieved my mother was ill so he could cancel the wedding and return to his old life.”

  “You said what?” she asks incredulously.

  “I told him that I would be at the church in my dress and if he didn’t show up, we were done.”

  “So you’re the one who said ‘We’re done’?”

  “Well, yes. But he agreed.”

  “Hmm. Mmm.” She nods, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

  “I told him I never wanted to see him again. I think I may have thrown a few coasters at him. It’s all a blur. I called him a liar and grabbed my stuff to go. He told me if I left, that’s it.”

  “And you told him…”

  “Then that’s it.”

  She slaps her palm to her forehead, closing her eyes again, and shakes her head. “Anything else?’

  “He told me he wouldn’t chase after me.”