by Sarah Tork
“What?” I mutter confused.
Where is he going with this?
“It’s too bad, different place, different time—”—
“Stop saying things like that; you can’t say things like that. I don’t like you anymore!” I interrupt.
“You’re lying,” Ben states.
“I’m not. I actually hate you!” I spit out.
“You might, but that doesn’t mean you don’t love me anymore.”
I can’t believe he just said that.
I can’t believe it.
I turn away.
“Stop talking to me,” I say, facing the wall. I feel Ben come closer and breathe into my neck.
“You still love me,” he whispers.
“Stop talking,” I order weakly. He folds his arms around my waist and tucks his face into my neck.
“I can see it in your eyes,” he murmurs.
“Stop,” I plead quietly.
“Baby, please. I never stopped loving you,” Ben says.
“Stop, Ben. Don’t say stuff like that, you can’t!”
“I’m dying without you, baby.”
“Ben…please don’t,” I plead as his arms tighten around my waist.
“I fucking love you,” he says into my neck.
“Stop!” I jerk my head away from his face. “You don’t! You cheated; people who cheat, don’t know what love is.”
Don’t cry! Shit, I’m going to cry…my makeup!
“I fucking love you,” he says again.
“You cheated!”
“I made a stupid mistake. I was too drunk; we had that fight a few days before and I was at the party all by myself. Everyone had their girls with them,” Ben explains, and I find my strength back and yank myself out of his arms. But as I turn, he presses his body into mine and I’m trapped against the wall.
Shit! And we are in a hallway that went to the emergency exit of the building, so no one will come this way.
“So we’re back to that again, huh? It’s my fault; everything is all my fault. My lips weren’t the ones on someone else’s!”
Ben moans, frustrated. “Back and forth, this isn’t going anywhere.”
I look at him. “So don’t bother. Go back to the party and leave me alone.”
Something in Ben’s eyes darken. He leans back, letting me go, and turns abruptly, quickly walking away and leaving me practically paralyzed against the wall.
About to burst into tears, this is not the kind of reunion I had planned. I certainly didn’t plan for him to profess his love for me.
I’m so confused, because I don’t know what to do. Deep down inside me, I know I still love him. But things weren’t the same. I head back into the bathroom to check how I look. When I get in front of the mirror, I’m stunned. My appearance isn’t as traumatized as I thought. I thought I had turned into a complete mess. But I look almost fine, practically normal. A big difference to Ben’s face; he seemed tortured and angry.
Oh dear.
Chapter Eight
*Marisa*
The party clearly hasn’t died; dance music blasts loudly from behind the closed doors of the party room. I can’t go in just yet. For some reason, I have this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that as soon as I walk in, I’ll be charged by two very angry bulls.
Meaning: Mom and Gwen, who must have known where Ben and I were. They probably had planned that little rendezvous out in the hall as well.
Their plans failed.
So far.
The stubborn fairy on my left shoulder won’t let me give in. Maybe the old me would have given in just to appease a whole group of people. It would have been easy to concede, also to be cared for. Ben would have been caring and forgiving in the beginning, but after a while, things would have just returned to the way they were before.
I’m not the girl for him, clearly, and that kills me to admit; because every time I see his face in my head, or think I hear his voice, especially since coming back, has been difficult.
I take a last minute deep breath as my hand cradles the doorknob. I only open it wide enough to fit my body through - to the inch. I don’t want to cause a stir opening the door widely, dramatically announcing my return from the failed attempt of a reconciliation that went about the worst way possible.
There wasn’t a heartfelt, deep-down-in-his-bones apology. And I need that; especially after five years of being supposedly the love of his life, just as he had been (and maybe still could be) mine. It is as clear as daylight; he doesn’t believe he is responsible for the demise of our relationship, that the ‘simple’ kiss last Halloween was nothing more than a blip in our relationship radar, and that I needed to get over it.
Well, I can’t!
I slide through the doorway, the loud blast of dance music circling me; and if it wasn’t for the unfortunate circumstances that consume me, I would gladly let myself go and succumb to the beat of the song.
Things like five years of supposedly being in love with the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with and he cheats on you, kind of ruin any chance of letting go and forgetting your worries. You can’t forget this shit; it follows you until something better comes along and takes over.
And from what I can see, it’ll be awhile before I trust anyone (Xander does not count. I was weak!) ever again. So, I guess I’m going to have to prepare myself for a few years of misery and self-pity.
I don’t want that. I want be happy and carefree. I want to be that girl who doesn’t give a shit, like it’s his loss and I’m so over him; because if that ass can’t see the love of a good woman, (I’m not perfect, but who is) then fuck him. I’m going to find someone who’ll appreciate me.
The smart side would have said that. I want to find someone that would like me for me, all faults included, who will cast aside all judgment, only to be discussed if absolutely necessary. And if it is discussed, it’s only in the most respectful way possible.
Because, if the one person you love doesn’t speak to you with anything but respect, what’s the fucking point of being in a relationship? I’m so sick of getting shit on all the time, and just taking it without being able to defend myself because of the worries of being further persecuted. I’m so tired of not being appreciated and loved the way I deserve. I want to not be scared that if I ever make a mistake, that a cloud of shit won’t come charging (i.e. Mom, Ben, or Gwen) at me, ready and salivating at the chance to lecture me on all the things I’m doing wrong.
I’m so tired.
I glance around the entire lively room, filled with happy guests dancing, enjoying the evening that Mom probably spent a few months planning. But of course, she sent me an email for it last minute, yet all these people are happy.
I want in.
I also want to get out of here. I don’t even want be here anymore. Everything I hate about my old life is in this room. My gaze stops at a small huddle on the other side of the dance floor, where Mom, Gwen, and the dads are in deep discussion. At the same time, by my amazing luck, they take notice right away and catch me looking. Perfect timing! Their disgruntled defeated expressions tell me enough about what they were discussing.
Me. Ben. Our failed relationship. Me. Ben. Stubborn me, who doesn’t know a good thing when she sees it. Well, I’m not one of those women who accepts cheating just because she’s scared of losing her special man.
Fuck him. Fuck them all.
I stride over to my table where Darcy and Cameron are sitting with the rest of the kids; they’re all playing with their phones.
“Hey, Darcy,” I whisper into her ear as soon as I get to the table. She looks up from her phone. “I’m leaving, okay?” I quickly tell her; she puts her phone on the table and twists her body around to face me.
“Why? The party isn’t over yet,” Darcy says loudly. Cameron looks up from his phone confused.
“Where are you going?” Cameron asks and gets up from his seat to come stand beside us.
“You guys,” I whisper to th
em, my eyes pleading, hoping they’ll understand the situation. “I can’t be here anymore; you know how it is. They won’t leave me alone.”
Cameron looks at Darcy worriedly, then back at me. “Is it Ben? Is he bothering you?” Cameron asks. “Because if it is, I’ll kick his ass for you.”
Johnny looks up at the sound of his brother’s name, looking at us confused. I shake my head and fake laugh at Johnny, hoping he won’t take anything from our conversation too seriously. I look back at my brother and give him a small smile as my hand squeezes his shoulder. “Little bro, don’t worry. It’s fine. I’m fine. I just can’t be here anymore,” I tell him reassuringly.
“But we haven’t seen you for months,” Darcy whispers. “When are we going to see you again? It’s going to be our birthday in July.”
“I’m not going to miss your birthday for anything in the world. I’m going to go back – well, okay, I live in Toronto now, and I have job – please don’t tell anyone. I’m just going to go back tomorrow, work, save up, and gotta buy you guys some awesome presents. You only turn fourteen once,” I explain as their eyes widen when I mention I now live in Toronto.
“You live in T.O.?” Cameron gasps excitedly.
“Can we come and visit?” Darcy asks right after.
“You guys, come on. You think Mom’s going to let you visit me? And speaking of Mom, don’t tell her where I live, okay? This is between you guys and me, got it?” I look at the both of them, then behind them to see if Jennifer and Johnny heard. Their heads are down, so I’m guessing no, but it could be a front.
We’ll see. God knows that those two kids tell their mother everything, especially if they’ve heard any of the gossip from my house via the twins.
Usually about me and the problems I’d cause daily. I was top news.
“I’m coming back for your birthdays. Mom’s having a huge party, right?” I ask them.
“Duh!” the twins say at the same time.
I look away, chuckling. My siblings are funny, especially when they say what they are thinking at the same time.
God, I missed them. I turn back to them and give them both hugs at the same time, because that’s how we do it. “I’ll send an email tomorrow, okay?”
They both nod and return back to playing on their phones. I nod goodbye to Jennifer and Johnny and leave the table, heading toward Dad who is back with his friends again. Thank God, because I didn’t want to say goodbye with Mom lurking in the background, making stupid remarks about how selfish I am for leaving so early, especially in light of my absence.
In her eyes, I probably owe time.
Not gonna happen.
Dad looks up as I walk up to him. “Dad, having fun?”
“I’m having a great time. Are you having a good time, dear?” he asks me, putting his drink down.
“Um, it’s been interesting, but that doesn’t matter. This is your day; the only person who should be having fun here is you!”
Dad holds out his arms and I go in for a hug. “I’ve missed you, Marisa. Things aren’t the same here without you. You know that, right?”
I tuck my face into my dad’s neck, taking a giant whiff of his cologne; it instantly calms a bit of my nerves. “I know, Dad.”
“You know you can come home anytime you want. Don’t worry about your mother; she may not be showing it, but these last five months, they haven’t been easy for her either,” Dad explains, releasing me from the hug. I lean back, tucking the clutch underneath my arm, fixing loose strands of hair, and tucking them back to the side just like Gustavo created.
“Dad, come on. You know that’s never going to happen,” I tell him, cocking an eyebrow.
“Seriously, she’s been in pain, I know she’d love it if you came back home,” Dad said. “And wait a minute, I don’t even know where you’re living now. Where are you living now?”
I look at him, contemplating whether I should tell him or not. Considering I just told the twins, and the chances that Johnny and Jennifer heard were more than likely, it is bound to come out anyway.
“Toronto,” I tell him, and his eyes widen in an instant.
“Toronto!” Dad repeats, obviously flabbergasted that I moved a good four-hours away. “Why? How?”
“My car and my savings from Dairy Queen. I’ve got a job now, but I had to sell my car a little while ago. Things are expensive down there,” I explain to him as the shock of me moving to Toronto wears down.
“Wow,” Dad says, still shocked.
“Yeah, um, I’m going back tomorrow,” I tell him, which shocks him yet again. “I’ve got to go to work on Monday.”
“You’re leaving tomorrow?” Dad asks in a panic. “But you just came back after months of being away. We haven’t even been able to sit down and talk. We need to talk.”
“Well, actually, speaking of leaving, um…I kind of have to leave right now.”
Dad opens his mouth to object, but I beat him to it. “But my train doesn’t leave until 1:30; maybe we can have coffee tomorrow?”
Dad calms down. “I’d love that. Is that my birthday present?”
“No! I have your birthday present right here,” I open my clutch, pull out the Canadian Tire gift card, and give it to him.
“A gift card, for me? Marisa you shouldn’t have spent money on me; especially with moving to an expensive city like Toronto,” Dad says, opening the envelope the card came in. “Wow, this is a lot. You should have saved your money,” Dad says, not looking away from the gift card.
Success.
And just like my special luck, Mom chooses to come over and investigate what I’m up to. “What’s going on here?” she announces, then tucks herself right beside Dad as if they are a package deal.
Well, they are because they’re married; but she knows that Dad and I, our relationship, is much better then hers and mine. It kills her to know that not everyone finds me annoying and troublesome.
Maybe it’s just her and Gwen that are actually a package deal.
Whatever.
“I just came to give Dad his gift,” I explain nonchalantly.
Don’t lose it; keep calm. Don’t let her affect you; ignore any jabs.
“Oh really, what did you buy?” Mom asks, peering over Dad to trying to get a good look at my present. “A Canadian Tire gift card.”
The knowing smile struggles to break free at the sound of Mom’s annoyed voice. She hates Canadian Tire; especially when Dad comes home with things they didn’t need.
Special sponges anyone?
“Yeah, Dad loves Canadian Tire. What better gift is there?” I tell her, smiling brightly. “I hope he buys some good stuff from there – oooh, maybe you two can go together one night next week. You can have a date night! They don’t close ‘til nine, so it’s all good; and get some hotdogs afterward at the little food hut they have out front. There’s a special on Wednesdays. I think. Two can eat for five dollars– it’s uh-mazing.”
What a great idea! I come up with all the fun stuff.
Mom clearly disagrees.
Her eyes bulge in disgust. That would be her worst nightmare; especially wasting one of their precious date nights at Canadian Tire, scouring the aisles for cleaning supplies and cutting boards in every size known to man.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Mom snaps disgustedly, her eyes flaming, obviously trying to keep it in for the sake of Dad. But if he wasn’t next to us right now, I’d be getting more than an eye roll and a silent fuck you.
I can read her mind right now. Don’t you dare try to ruin my date night! Gwen does not want to go to Canadian Tire on date night.
Yeah. I’m a mind reader now. All I have to do is look deep into her eyes and it just comes to me.
I’m a genius like that.
Back to business. I’m leaving the party. I snap back to what I’m supposed to be doing.
“Anyway, it was just a suggestion. I actually came to also say I have to go,” I explain as Mom stops in mid-eye roll, jerking her face back to me, lo
oking panicked and horrified.
“What?” she screeches.
“I told you before. I’ve got an appointment I need to be getting to,” I tell her with a small smile. Her eyes widen in response.
She thinks I’m serious.
Fuck!
“I’m meeting a friend. Relax, geez!” I look away, now rolling my own eyes.
Let’s see how she likes that.
“You can’t leave! What about Ben?” Mom screeches further.
“Yeah, what about him? I had a talk with old Benny-boy back in the hallway. Nothing’s changed, so stop it,” I warn her, leaning toward her a little. “Stop whatever it is you guys are trying to do!”
Mom looks frazzled, shaking her head as she looks from Dad to me. “I don’t know why you insist on keeping up this behavior. Ben said he was sorry. What more do you want?”
I look away flabbergasted, letting out a deep breath. “His apology can go to the dogs for all I care. It’s about as genuine as all the puffed up lips in this room.”
Mom’s eyes widen. Her lips are puffed up, courtesy of Dad’s wallet. I’m sure that shit was expensive; and there is probably a dent in the finances due to it.
And I’m the selfish one.
Look in the mirror.
“Well, this was fun, Dad.” I lean toward him and give him a hug. “I hope you have more fun for the rest of the party, and we’ll talk tomorrow. I’ll call you.”
“Okay, but I better hear from you tomorrow,” Dad says in my ear.
“Don’t worry,” I assure him. I lean away and glance at Mom who looks like she’s a fish out of water. “Goodbye, Mother. Have a pleasant evening.”
Her eyes widen, and I swiftly turn away and make my way out of the party room. Once in the hallway, with the lack of blasting music and every square-inch contaminated with drunken guests, I feel like I can finally breathe again. The night is over, well, part of it at least. There’s still one part I have to get through before I can officially call it a night and return my anxiety levels back to normal.
Halfway down the hallway, a strange banging noise comes from a pair of doors that read employees only. I slow down for a second to investigate out of curiosity.
