by AC Netzel
A few minutes later she returns with her cell phone pressed against her ear and the bottle almost three quarters empty. Aww, she misses Vince and she’s drunk calling him. She crosses her legs as she sits on the floor next to me and smiles.
“Hey buddy, my friend thinks you’re hhhhhot,” she slurs.
Buddy?
“Who’s that?” I mouth, pointing at her phone.
“Did you know that your initials spell blowjob? Ben and Julia. BJ. Bwah ha ha.”
I do a double take. “That’s Ben?”
She nods, with a sloppy drunk grin. “She likes to do the sex with you. And she doesn’t want to see Vince’s penis. I keep it in a box. I don’t know why she doesn’t want to see it. It’s very nice.”
“Give me your phone,” I demand. I try to snatch it, but Allie pulls away before I can reach it.
“Also I have some advice,” she continues rambling. “If your honeymoon resort has a swim-up bar… Don’t use it.”
There’s a pause. I guess he’s playing along.
“There’s always a few who never leave their pool bar seat. That’s ‘cause they’re peeing right there. IN. THE. POOL,” she yells in her phone. “Don’t make my friend swim through urinated water. Got it?”
I make another attempt for the phone, but she rolls on her side away from me, shaking her head.
“My friend Julia loves you. Despite the fact that your real name is Len-nerd.” Her brows crinkle as she frowns. “I don’t like that name. I’ll call you Ben-nerd… Or Steve. Which one do you prefer?” There’s a pause. “Okay, Steve it is.”
I laugh.
“I’m glad she’s marrying you. The last guy she dated was a major douchebag. Dooo-shay. You’re a good one. G-o-o-d,” she cups her hand to the phone and lowers her voice, “and she likes doing the sex with you. Did I tell you she thinks you’re hot?” She nods. “I like you, Steve. You love my best friend so, so, so much,” her voice cracks and tears well up in her eyes. “I love her too. You’re going to make her happy, right? Like for the rest of her life?” She listens intently and nods. “Good. I thought so. Okay, we’re squared away.” She rolls back and holds her phone out to me.
I look at her, with tears rolling down her cheeks and I tear up, bringing the phone to my ear.
“Hi,” I say, smiling and crying at the same time.
“Hi,” he says, amused. “Cocktail hour?”
I chuckle. “Yeah.”
“Vince’s dick?”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t ask.”
“Seems I have Allie’s approval.”
“You do.”
“Tell her I like her too.”
“I will,” my voice cracks as I glance over at her, drying her tears with the bottom of her shirt. She catches me and smiles.
“So you like doing ‘the sex’ with me, huh?”
I chuckle. “Yup. ‘The sex’ is great.”
He laughs. “I’ll let you get back to your girls night. I love you.”
“I love you too. And I do think you’re hot.”
He laughs again. “I’ve heard. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Steve.”
“Goodnight.”
I end the call and stare at Allie. Her eyes are glassy and red, and not only from the booze.
“I love you too, you unpredictable, crazy, phenomenal best friend.” I wrap my arms around her and hug her.
“Ugh,” she moans. Allie hates this mushy stuff.
I figure while we’re in sentimental mode, I might as well come clean on something. “I have a confession to make. I cried when Ben tried on his wedding band.”
“Lame-o,” she deadpans, forming an “L” on her forehead with her thumb and index finger.
“Says the girl who was just in tears over our friendship.”
She blushes then promptly flips me the finger. “I got over it.”
I laugh. “Seriously. I want to thank you. For being my friend all these years. For putting me back together when Ben and I broke-up and I shattered into a million pieces.”
“Pffft,” she practically spits. “You put yourself back together. A little bit at a time.”
“Well, maybe I put myself back together. But you were the glue.”
She blushes, her face reddened from the compliment and tequila. “You’re probbbbbbably the only person who could tolerate me as long as you have,” she slurs.
“It’s been a pleasure.”
“I didn’t say it wasn’t. Where’s my booze?”
“Currently, it’s marinating your liver.”
“Time for Gatorade?”
I nod. “About half a bottle ago.”
“Okay, you get the drink. I’m going to curl up and take a little nap right here.” She coils into a ball on the floor and closes her eyes.
“Good night, Al.”
Chapter 20
I’m a little groggy from last night’s tequila, nothing a bottle of Gatorade and a couple of Advil couldn’t cure. Allie is doing much worse. When I left the apartment, she was lying down on the couch with a wet washcloth across her face, mumbling something about never drinking again.
Boozing it up like a fish when I have a laundry list of last minute things to do wasn’t one of my brighter moves. With my foggy, half-working brain, I move on. There are a few things I need to pack for our honeymoon at Ben’s apartment.
“Good morning Andy,” I say, as the doorman nods, tipping his hat.
“I hear the big day is coming up.”
“Crazy, isn’t it?” I grin wide.
“I’m going to miss you and Mr. Martin when you move.”
“Aww, thank you. We’ll miss you too.”
He opens the door and I walk through the lobby. Stopping at the elevator, I press the call button and glance at my surroundings. I’m going to miss this place. But at the same time, I love that we have a place for just the two of us, with no Ex baggage attached. Our place. Our bed. Our memories.
The elevator dings and the steel doors slide open. My stomach does a nauseous flip when the elevator moves. Damn tequila. I watch the floor numbers light up as the elevator climbs to the twentieth floor. This may be my last time in the apartment as a Conti. Next time I’ll be Julia Martin.
I love that.
I dig into my jeans pocket and grab my key. I can’t help but smile at the silver heart keychain. He gave this to me the morning we got engaged. I thought it was a sign of his commitment. I had no idea there were bigger things to come.
Inserting the key in the lock, I watch the doorknob turn and my stomach flutters. This time it’s not the tequila. It’s what always happens when I see this doorknob turn. Knowing Ben is on the other side will always do things to me. I hope that’ll never change. There’s no denying it. He’s turned me into a loved-up fool. I never thought I’d be ‘that girl’. Allie and I hate ‘that girl’. But what ya gonna do? I’m her.
Once I enter the apartment, I toss my handbag on the chair near the coat closet and watch it fall on the floor. Ben hates when I throw my stuff. I figure if I have to get used to his cleanliness, he’ll have to get used to my laziness. Somewhere in the middle is a happy medium.
“I’m not having this conversation with you,” Ben’s voice bellows from the kitchen. He sounds angry. I guess he’s on the phone. It’s probably his father, Dick the dick or as Allie calls him, ‘Dick Squared’. He’s always pushing Ben’s buttons. I’ve learned to stay clear of Ben until he has a few minutes to cool down. I’ll hang back here until he stops talking. I don’t want to be a casualty of that conversation.
“Please listen to me,” a female voice pleads. I frown. Camille? Why the hell is she here? “You’re still single. Don’t you see? It’s a sign.”
What the ever-loving fuck?
“A sign of what?” he asks.
“That you don’t want to marry her.”
Fury and anger instantly consume me. I’m blind with rage. Murderous thoughts flood my brain. My hands ball into fists at my side, my
newly manicured nails digging painfully into my palms. I’m two seconds away from storming into the kitchen and pulling that bitch’s hair out of her bitch head.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” he asks incredulously—and loud.
I want to rush into the kitchen and bash her, but for some reason, I can’t. I’m glued to my spot, eavesdropping on the shit-show unraveling in the next room.
“I could be ‘it’ for you. We have a history. Our families have known each other forever. Your sister is my best friend. How can’t you see it? Everything points to us being together.”
“No. It doesn’t.”
“She’s not right for you. She’s from New Jersey for God’s sake. I met her family. They’re not like us.”
“Thank God they’re not like us.”
“I’ll make you happy. I’d do anything for you.”
“I’m in love with her. There is nothing that will ever change it. It’s a fact. You need to reexamine what you think we were. We were young. You knew it wasn’t serious. Did I ever lead you on?”
“No, but...” she says. “Don’t you ever think about us?”
“There was never an us.” He sounds frustrated and annoyed. I wish I could see his face.
“Why do you have to get married? Why her?”
“Because I’m hers, Camille.” He pauses for a moment. “I’m hers.”
“You could feel that way about me if you just tried. Look at me the way you look at her.”
“No.” He exhales an exasperated breath that is so loud, even I hear it. I bet he’s rubbing the back of his neck. He always does that when he’s frustrated. “Look, one day you’ll find the man who can’t live without you. I’m not him.” His voice softens.
He’s doing his best to let her down as gently as he can.
“Things between us were so good before you even knew she existed. We would have found our way together. Then she waltzes into your life and steals you from me.”
But the bitch isn’t having it.
“I was never yours,” he tells her.
“You could do so much better.”
“Watch it,” he warns. “Be very careful with the way you speak about my wife,” his voice low and menacing.
“She’s not your wife,” she counters defiantly.
“She’s been my wife from the day she said yes. The rest is legalese.”
Well, now there are two more things to add to my to-do list: throat punch the kitchen bitch and kiss that man.
“You’re supposed to be with me,” she states emphatically.
Delusional! This girl is erasing reality. I could always hide her lifeless body in a rolled up area rug. We’re moving out. It would look perfectly normal.
“No. You’ll find someone who loves you the way you love him. It’s not me. It will never be me.”
“I can’t lose you, Ben.”
“You never had me. We were friends. That’s all it was. Let it go. It’s never going to happen.”
I could chop her up into little pieces, squeeze some lime juice on her and serve her to our wedding guests during the cocktail hour. Cam-eel Ceviche… or Camviche.
“I love you. I do. I can’t help it. I’m dying here because I’m giving you all of me,” she cries, “and you don’t want it. You don’t see what’s in front of you. You and me. It’s all I ever wanted. We could be happy together. Don’t you ever wonder? Don’t you ever think about me?”
I strain to listen for his answer, my neck stretching closer to the kitchen. I know Ben loves me but I guess a part of me, the stupid part, always wondered that same question.
We’re both greeted with silence.
“Ever?” she asks again.
“No. Not the way you want.”
“Did you ever love me?”
“I care about you as a friend.”
“More than a friend,” she insists.
“No. Not more.”
“You never loved me?”
More silence.
“No,” he answers softly. “Not that way.”
“I’ll do anything. Anything,” Camille begs between her sobs. “You called off your wedding. It’s because you don’t want to marry…”
“Stop it,” he cuts her off. “You’re embarrassing yourself. We postponed our wedding because her mother was ill. I’m going to marry her and nothing and no one will change that. Especially you.”
“You don’t belong together. You have nothing in common. Open your eyes, Ben. We were good once. We’re meant for each other. I’ll be anyone you want. You want me to be like her? I’ll be like her. Just love me,” she implores. “Stop this while you still can. You’re making the biggest mistake of your life. She’s South Jersey trash. She’ll never be good enough for you.”
A loud bang startles me. I jump in my place and gasp. Ben either threw something across the room in anger or killed her. I’m okay with either. Camille is sniffling and sobbing, so I’m going with the first option.
“Let’s get something clear,” he says threateningly. “She’s better than the both of us and through some miracle, she said yes. What we had was over a long time ago. I thought we were friends now. Not anymore. I don’t want you. I don’t love you. ‘We’ are never going to happen. Listen carefully… I’m going to be Julia’s husband. Every fucking day and that’s never going to end. I’m finished with this conversation.”
“But...”
“No buts. I think it’s best if we don’t see each other anymore. Go home.”
“Ben…”
“Camille, go home,” he says sternly.
“You’re going to regret this.”
“No. I won’t. Leave. We’re done here.”
“But…”
“Now!”
I spot her rushing out of the kitchen, wiping her tears with the backside of her hand. Her eyes are red and swollen, her skin pale.
Figures—she’s an ugly crier.
Her eyes widen when she sees me and she stops abruptly. We stare at each other for what feels like forever. Her chin quivers as she takes a deep breath, puffing out her chest and straightening her posture. She let down her armor with Ben and now she’s lifting it back up.
“Nice of you to drop by,” I say as I step aside so she can let herself out.
She breaks eye contact, hastily brushing past me and grabs the front door knob. She twists her neck and takes one last look back. I’m not sure if she’s looking back at me, Ben, or the future she wasn’t meant to have. Uncurling my fist, I bring my left hand up to my shoulder, purposely aiming my engagement ring in her field of vision.
“You ruined everything. You’re the biggest mistake he’ll ever make,” she huffs as she swings open the door.
“I’ll be sure to relay that message to him while we’re on our honeymoon,” I say sarcastically. I know my words are mean, and I’ve never been one to kick somebody when they’re down, but sometimes you have to say ‘fuck it’.
The only way to fight a bitch is to be a bigger bitch.
The color of her face changes from pale white to bright red. “You’ll get yours,” she warns, her eyes narrow, shooting daggers my way.
I narrow my eyes, shooting big ass cannonballs her way… ‘Cause fuck her.
“You’re right. I will get mine. Tonight. In bed. With Ben.” I lean against the wall with a wicked smirk, crossing my arms in front of my chest as I lift a brow.
She huffs again and storms out, slamming the door behind her.
My stomach is in knots. For as good as that felt at the time, especially after what I overheard, it’s a hollow victory because I know Ben is probably feeling guilty.
I walk into the kitchen, knowing he likely heard my exchange with Camille. He’s leaning against the kitchen counter, staring down at the floor. I lean against the doorway frame and watch him. I’m not sure if he’s mad or sad. Maybe both.
He looks up and spots me. I give him a small smile. He forces a smile back.
“Hey,” I say as I walk towar
d him.
“Hey,” he answers, running his hand across the back of his neck.
“You okay?”
He nods. “How much did you hear?”
“Enough.”
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. She’s desperate.”
“I had no idea her feelings were…”
“That deep?” I finish his thought. “I knew.”
“I told her I never felt that way about her.”
“I heard.”
“She crossed a line for the last time. Our friendship is over. I’m done.”
“She’s your sister’s best friend,” I remind him.
“That’s Elizabeth’s problem. I won’t listen to anyone speak negatively about you or us.”
“Okay.”
“Why aren’t you angry? When I heard you speaking to her, I thought you were going to come in here screaming with fistfuls of her hair.”
“Oh, I’m angry. Believe me, visions of her hair in my grip were vivid. But karma will deal with her.” I shrug. “Anyway, I guess I feel a little sorry for her. She couldn’t help herself. You have no idea how easy it is to fall in love with you.”
He looks down at the floor, shaking his head. “It was never my intention.”
“I know.” I place my hand gently on his shoulder. “She knows it too. She’ll be okay. She just needed to hear it from you.”
“You heard all that and didn’t barrel in?”
“If I have to worry about you running away with psychopaths, I shouldn’t marry you. I know you love me. I mean, look at me… I’m fabulous,” I say, trying to lighten his mood.
He smiles and kisses me sweetly on the lips. “You are.”
“You called me your wife.”
“I did.” He smiles again, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, setting my heart soaring.
“I liked it.”
“So did I,” he says.
“You know I adore you, right?”
“That’s not the first time I heard that today,” he teases, lightening a heavy situation.
Playfully, I smack his chest. “You’re a bad man.”
“I’d like to show you how bad I can be. Let’s forget all this bullshit happened.” Leaning toward me, he whispers in my ear, “I missed you last night.”
