"Take me home," I breathed.
She panted for a moment, chest pressed against mine, searching me.
"I'm ready," I said.
Something sparked in her eyes and she stopped breathing.
I pressed up and kissed her, feeling her lips that were stunned still. When I lay my head back on the sand, she was still frozen above me.
And then everything sped up, and she pressed down into me, as though she had been told she would never get to kiss me again. She cupped my cheek and sent a tiny moan into my mouth before smacking away
"Are you sure?" she asked, her expression one of almost painful gratitude.
I nodded. I was absolutely sure.
"My place or yours?" she asked.
"Yours," I said.
She nodded, still looking at me in disbelief. Then she kissed me again and smiled at me with giddy delight. She stood and offered me her hand, and we walked back to the car with our arms around each other, wind twirling our hair out to one side as we snuck smiles at one another.
I was gasping, trying to the relieve the uncomfortable tingling of the adrenaline that had surged through me when I saw Damon's face. I was angry enough to storm out of the restaurant after him, demanding that he stop and listen to what I had to say. When I pictured it, I imagined stomping up to him in my Ellies, just so he could see the powerful creature I'd become, able to reduce men to drooling masturbators who would feed bills into a machine for as long as I deemed them worthy of my attention. I'd look him square in the eye and tell him not to speak until I was done. And then I'd launch into telling him how unfair he'd been, and how he should never, ever treat anyone the way he'd treated me. No one should ever go from blissful security to the cold, hard emptiness of nothing with no warning. It wasn't up to one person.
I had loved him so strong and so deep that some of that love still lived within me. Holding the love and the anger at the same time was confusing and overwhelming and oh god, Faye was sitting out there by herself wondering what was taking me so long in the bathroom.
Faye knew seeing Damon had thrown me. She knew that I'd gone icy and rigid and she'd rushed to help me. Maybe she even knew who Damon was.
That made me feel even more vulnerable and weak. I didn't want her to know anything about Damon or how he'd crushed me. I didn't want her to know that the people I love have so much power over me that I could still be brought to my knees seven years later. I didn't want her to think that I'd never be able to stand on my own without her.
Seeing Damon reminded me that no one is to be trusted. Not even the gentlest, warmest people. Not even good people like Faye. If anything, those people are to be feared more than those who are openly callous, because once you get close to them, they'll hurt you. Just like Damon had hurt me.
When he sat me down that July and gave me the patient, grimacing smile that preceded his breakup speech, I was utterly perplexed. Why now? Why July, when we still had half a perfectly seasoned summer to spend together before I started at UMich? Why now, after we'd already made it through his freshman year at Kalamazoo? Why now, when we'd only had a few petty disagreements that incited so much guilt and anguish over the discomfort they created, we both immediately apologized? Why give up on something that wasn't broken or out of passion or out of power?
All I thought was Why.
It wasn't even a conscious Why. I just remember hearing the word tumbling from my lips with every tear. It was a blank, defensive Why, as though I could make him think hard enough to question his decision. It was hollow and clanged around inside my chest for the next few weeks, pushing up tears and interrupting thoughts unrelated. Why, why, why.
And after the Why faded and its echoes gave up their mocking, it was replaced with something much more threatening and demanding.
Now what?
What followed the breakup was worse than anything I could have imagined. Heartbreak is more painful that any physical injury ever could be. Even the memory of it evokes pain that could crush you if you didn't know you'd survived the initial attack.
I spent almost a month in bed, only getting up when my dad was home so he wouldn't worry about me. I didn't make as much of an effort when I was at my mom's because she seemed to know what to do, since Kimi had gone through her first heartbreak a few years earlier.
But there was no way Kimi's heartbreak had been as bad as mine. She hadn't been with her boyfriend for years, and she hadn't thought she was going to marry him. She didn't have a detailed, secure future planned out with the best boy in Ann Arbor. I had. I had had everything.
And then I had nothing.
Nothing in my stomach, nothing in my head by Why and the throb from over-crying. Nothing to fill up my days, nothing in my chest but a black hole, nothing in my future but a hazy four years that would theoretically be filled up with college.
I somehow packed my bags and started my freshman year at UMich. It was nothing like I'd imagined. There was no stream of new friends, no parties, no weekend trips to visit Damon. There were just classes in sterile rooms and the drone of the air conditioner or heater in my dorm room and the strange, pitying glances from my roommate as I studied the ceiling and the leftover Scotch tape and pushpin holes on the wall as I tried not to visibly cry. My grades were terrible, and I didn't even make the club track team. I was a shell of a person, and it lasted forever. Somewhere over the course of that year, I had vowed never to let anyone get that close to me again.
But I'd broken that promise now, hadn't I? Faye was too close. She could reach out with a finger and snuff me out, and I would fall over, a crumpled heap on the restaurant floor.
I tried to get the shivering in my limbs and the wriggling in my stomach to settle. I put my hand to my forehead as I paced back and forth in the handicap stall. I started clenching and unclenching my hands, trying to wring out the anger and weakness and fear Damon had resurrected. But nothing I did worked. I paced for so long that my anxiety only mounted because I knew Faye was alone and worried out in the restaurant that by now could have done a full turn.
I don't know how long I was in the bathroom, but I remember the dread that filled me when I heard the door swing open. I froze, hoping whoever it was wouldn't notice my feet under the door. They didn't, and I heard the sounds of someone in the next stall using the toilet and then washing their hands. After they left I was relieved, feeling as though I might be able to go back out into the restaurant and make it through a meal with Faye in a manner that wouldn't let on how jarred I'd been by seeing Damon.
But the next thing I knew, the door swung open again, and Faye's gentle, throaty voice called my name.
"Riley?"
I froze, but then realized I had to respond if I didn't want her asking the maitre 'd if he'd seen me leave the restaurant. I didn't want Faye to feel any more abandoned than she already was.
"Yeah?"
"Are you okay?"
I cringed. She knew something was wrong.
"Yeah," I lied.
"Are you sure?"
I couldn't bear the worry I heard in her voice. I took a quick breath and unlatched the door, stepping out with a fearful smile plastered on my face.
"Yeah."
Faye wasn't convinced. Her worry had a traces of sadness in it. It was going to be harder to fool her than I thought.
"What happened?"
Instead of walking into the arms she had half-extended out to me, I walked over to the sink and and made a show of vigorously washing my hands.
"Seeing him threw me off. That's all," I said, trying to sound casual. I dried my hands, bunching the paper towels up in my fists before throwing them into the garbage. "We can get back to our dinner."
We finished our dinner quietly, commenting on the view and the taste of the food, and when Faye asked if I wanted dessert, I declined. I was still squirming in the worst way, and I wanted to leave in hopes I could escape the awful feeling that had seeped into every crevice of my body since seeing Damon.
As we waited
out on the sidewalk for the valet to bring Faye's car to us, she took my hand, looking at me with concern that was only growing stronger as time passed. I cursed myself for being so transparent. Why couldn't I fake being okay like at Jez? Why were all my usual tricks not working?
She squeezed my hand and said, "Don't worry, sweetie. I'll take you home where customers can't bother you."
At that, I felt the ball inside my stomach draw everything into me tighter, as though it would never unfurl. My whole body recoiled, and I winced and pulled my hand away from her.
I couldn't believe she thought Damon was a customer.
Was that who every man in my life would be from now on? Every time I was uncomfortable around someone, would she assume the other person had seen me naked?
I walked away from her, angry and feeling the corners of the world curl in on me. Everything was falling apart. I walked quickly, clutching my purse to my stomach.
"Riley, wait," she called after me.
"I'll get a cab home," I called over my shoulder. I didn't sound angry or sad. I just sounded stiff.
"Baby, wait," she said, catching up to me.
I walked quicker, not wanting her gentleness to ensnare me. She could do exactly what Damon had done to me. She was already primed for it. If she got bored or tired or angry, I would be out of her life with a snap of her fingers. I was as disposable as I pretended to be at work. Only this time it was my heart, not my body.
Maybe Kimi had been right. Maybe no one would ever want to be with me, let alone marry me or have children with me. But maybe that had nothing to do with my job. Maybe it was just me.
I knew in that moment that I needed to figure out a way to get out of this mess with Faye.
I whirled around and held up my hands to Faye, trying to glare as I felt tears stinging my eyes. "I need to be alone right now," I demanded. "I'll get a cab."
Faye gave me a pleading look, trying one last time to burrow deeper into my heart only to yank it out. "Baby, please let me take you home. You can have all the alone time you need then, just let me drive you."
Tired and scared and too flustered to argue with her, I walked past her and got into the passenger side of her car, staring blankly out the windshield. Cautious, she got into the driver's seat, tipping the valet as she did.
She rolled the windows up and pulled away from the curb slowly, as though she knew how fragile I felt and was transporting me with care. Her feet were intentional on the pedals, never breaking too hard or accelerating too quickly. She kept her gaze straight ahead, save for a few quick glances at me, hoping to cut through my anger and fear.
I couldn't keep doing this with her. It was too dangerous. She was too close to me, too primed to crush me. I needed to protect myself.
When we got to my apartment, there was a parking place open directly out front. She pulled into it and carefully turned to look at me.
"Do you want me to come up?" she asked, gentle and cautious.
I shrugged, feigning indifference. I was worried I'd descend into chaos with her or without her. I hadn't decided on my course of action, so I didn't know what to say.
Taking my nonresponse as an indicator of my confusion, she turned off the engine and unbuckled her seatbelt slowly. "I left my book at your place. I should probably get that."
I knew it was an excuse, but it was an excuse I was comfortable with. "Sure," I said. I slipped out of my seat belt and opened the door, trudging up the stairs and opening the gate as Faye trailed quietly behind me.
Chapter 25: The End of the Rope
I woke groggy the next morning and had only a few seconds of relief before I sank into the bitter sadness that was missing Faye. I got dressed with a heaviness I hadn't felt since Damon broke up with me. Every part of my body felt like lead. Showering was a struggle akin to running a marathon, but I did it. I lathered my hair, too tired by the time I got out to contemplate drying it. I put on my most comfortable clothes for work and trudged to the café, praying to whatever deity would listen that my day would be uneventful and short.
It certainly wasn't short, but other than a delivery being an hour late, it was uneventful. I only had to take two breaks to duck into the broom closet and cry. I thought about what life would have been like if I were still working at Jules' and was thankful I didn't anymore. It would have taken me too long to mix each drink, and my tips would have been terrible, Dave would have asked too many concerned questions, and I'd have had a meltdown in front of the customers, which would have been humiliating. Only since meeting and falling in love with Faye had my tears been so plentiful and frequent. It was as if she'd scraped off an extra layer of my skin and defenses, an extra layer everyone else had, and I had to walk through the world exposed and vulnerable to every feeling around me.
When the day finally ended, I went home and collapsed on the couch. I'd checked my phone every few minutes throughout the day, but no one besides my sister and Justine had texted me. It was as though Faye had forgotten I existed. I wondered if I would ever be able to pretend she didn't exist.
It wasn't like there was protocol for this, you know? We'd effectively broken up, but since we'd never technically been together, I didn't know how the breakup was supposed to go. Did we not talk? Did we text only? Wait a few weeks? I had so many questions.
Justine made me macaroni and cheese and salad for dinner. I was so tired and drained, extending gratitude to her felt like the last thing I'd be able to do. I did the dishes and fell into my bed, sleeping until ten the next morning.
I thought about going for a run before work, but I was so heavy, I opted to sit on my floor and stretch instead. I felt like a quitter for not jogging, but I just couldn't face the world until I had to.
The day dragged on at work. I hid in the back office as much as I could, but as fate would have it, that was short-lived. After I'd helped our performer set up for the night and was sitting down with a stack of invoices, one of the servers came in to the office and said, "Kelly has a question for you."
I sighed, not bothering to mask my annoyance. I set down the invoices and walked out into the main room of the café, glancing around to double-check everything was ready for the show as I made my way to the stage area.
And then, in the back of the room at the little table I'd reserved for her only a few nights before, I spotted Faye.
I was just as gutted as I'd been when she walked out of my apartment.
She was sitting with her hair curtaining her face, half-hiding from the rest of the room. The candle on the table in front of her cast a gentle glow on her perfect, olive skin, and her eyelashes created dramatic upwards shadows into her eyebrows. She was reading something on the table, but I couldn't see what. She had a drink in front of her, but she hadn't touched it.
For a brief, bright moment I wondered if she'd come to apologize or to try to work things out with me. But then I saw Claire sitting next to her, chatting away, and realized she had just come to get Claire out of the house. She's probably forgotten that I worked here. I couldn't remember if I'd even told her the name of the café I managed. When I'd invited her before, I'd just given her the address via text, which I'm sure she'd forgotten by now. She would have let me know if she was coming to visit me.
I reached into my pocket for my phone. She hadn't texted me. She'd probably just come to see the performer.
And I was crushed again by how little she cared for me.
I couldn't handle the mixing of my worlds. Work was the one place that was only mine. She wasn't supposed to affect me here. And yet she was here, and her presence had completely thrown me. I wasn't sure how I'd get through the night knowing she was so close.
Knowing I needed to focus on work to prevent a breakdown, I turned toward Kelley. "What's up?" I asked, trying to project confidence and a dwindling amount of patience for her demands.
She asked me something about her feedback monitor, and I reiterated what I knew I'd already told her.
Then, without looking back at Fa
ye, I walked back into my office and prayed I wouldn't be needed for the rest of the night. Other than sneaking into the tech booth to help run the show and survey the patrons and sweeping the kitchen a few times to ensure everything was running smoothly, I wasn't needed.
I almost thought I'd gotten away with avoiding Faye when someone knocked on my office door.
"Someone wants to see you," one of the waitstaff said.
I sighed, thanking the waitress and wondering if there was a way to leave without blatantly blowing Faye off. She'd blown me off so many times, she would have had it coming. And yet my upbringing and my undying love for her wouldn't let me. I trudged into the main room, bracing myself to be dismissed in front of Claire once again.
I was surprised to see the main room was mostly empty, save for a gay couple in the back finishing their dessert and the waitstaff who were hurriedly clearing the tables so they could get home.
Faye, now sitting alone, was looking around the room nervously.
When I approached, she looked spooked for a second, then plastered on a brave expression. I saw, to my surprise, that her drink was only half empty. She was fidgeting with the edge of the tablecloth as her eyes struggled to hold my gaze.
“Hi,” I said, hoping I didn't sound too sad or hopeful.
“Hi,”she responded, the word rushed and even more anxious than she looked.
She didn't say anything for a moment, so I decided to address her as I would any patron. She was, after all, a guest in the café I managed.
“Can I get you anything?”
Faye looked even more flustered, as though my dismissal was amping up her anxiety.
“Uh, no,” Faye said, tugging on her sleeves. “I was- um, I was hoping we could talk?” She said it with an upward inflection, making it sound like a question rather than a statement.
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