We chatted lightly on our way to the coffee shop, a hub for undercaffeinated grad students where I’d spent all too much time during my degree years. I smiled at the sight of the familiar couches and armchairs. They were still going, even with the holes and patches that would’ve made me give up on them years ago.
Sydney insisted on buying my coffee, as much as I tried to argue. “We’re celebrating your big job interview,” she said.
I could’ve argued about how much she always did for me, but I let it go. Cash was tight for me at the moment, and she knew it.
She was always there for me, and I gave her so little in return. Where was the benefit for her? What could possibly be behind her doing all of this?
She gave me so much of herself and asked for nothing in return… but one day, I’d make all of this up to her.
Eighteen – Sydney
“Good morning, everyone, and welcome to the winter semester.”
Groans from around the lecture hall met my pleasant announcement. I had to laugh, because if I didn’t, I’d cry. The university had given me the 9:00 a.m. Monday time slot for an introductory freshman course. These students were going to be more grumpy than enthusiastic.
“If you’ll open your syllabi, we’ll go through what we’re going to be learning this term.”
I clicked a button on my laptop, noticing the alert that Lora had sent me a new email. It’d been a couple months since she’d started at her new job, and while she was settling in nicely, she still liked to send me rough drafts of her articles before publishing them.
I didn’t mind, of course. Her articles were so well-written, I would’ve read them for fun, and I loved to have some input on the final versions. Besides, if it made Lora happy, I was happy.
I put thoughts of her to the back of my mind as I went through the introductory lecture. Since we were only looking through the syllabus, it was over in a few minutes. To a chorus of more groans, I assigned a reading from the online discussion board.
Once the students were gone, I opened the email from Lora. There was nothing personal, just a new article with a note about why she’d written it. I saved it to my desktop, an inexplicable pride coming over me. She’d come so far in such a short time, and I liked to think I had something to do with that.
She hadn’t been in touch with Chantel in months, for which I was grateful. Being away from her abuser was helping her to regain her confidence and self-esteem. I could see the change in her, and it made me happy to know I’d had some part to play in it.
I’ll take a look at this today, I wrote back. Just have to teach another class and then I’ll have plenty of free time. Want to grab a coffee and talk about my notes?
Her response came back almost immediately. Sure! The usual spot?
I smiled to myself. It was nice to have a “usual spot” with a beautiful woman, even if nothing was ever going to happen between us. I found Lora more and more gorgeous as time went on. Maybe it was her improved outlook on life, or maybe I was allowing myself to appreciate her more now that she wasn’t such a fragile flower.
I knew my crush would remain one-sided. She was still in a delicate place, even if she was getting better. We didn’t talk about Chantel, but I knew she probably still had feelings for her. After a three-year relationship, and with all the mixed emotions due to the abuse, it’d take her more than a few months to heal.
I fully expected that she’d eventually tell me she’d met someone and started dating again. As long as that someone wasn’t Chantel, I was okay with that. I wanted the best for her, and nothing less. My role in her life was clear – I was here to be her supportive older friend, and I was okay with that. I had to be.
*
When we met at seven, Lora was too full of energy to sit and drink coffee. “Can we go for a walk?” she asked. “We can take our drinks to go.”
I shrugged. “Sure.”
This time, I let her pay for my vanilla latte. She brought it out to me and, after taking a sip of her own, licked the foam off her upper lip. My eyes lingered on her lips, and I had to drag them away. “Where did you want to walk?” I asked.
“Around campus, maybe? It’s beautiful out.”
Being early January, the temperature should’ve been below freezing. Instead, the air was crisp and the fat snowflakes melted as soon as they reached the ground. Although I hated the chill, I was willing to brave the weather for Lora’s sake.
“Sure,” I said again.
We headed out of the coffee shop, and our steps automatically led to the path that circled the campus. This was a route that I walked every day, while for Lora, it was more nostalgic. I flipped my hood up and clutched my warm coffee between both gloved hands.
“Everything looks so much prettier with the snow falling,” she said.
Including you, I kept to myself.
“I still prefer the summer,” I said. “I’m not freezing all the time, and there’s so much more to do.”
“Winter activities can be nice,” she said. “Skiing, snowboarding…”
“When you’re twenty-five,” I said with a laugh. “Almost-forty bones are easier to break.”
She scoffed. “You talk like you’re a senior citizen. You’re still in your prime.” She elbowed me. “And there are plenty of nonathletic winter activities, too. Sipping hot chocolate by the fire, watching movies by the fire, playing board games by the fire…”
“Which of us has a fireplace?” I laughed. “And all of those are just ways to artificially make yourself warm. I still prefer summer, when you can just be warm without the effort.”
“Ah, but warmth is so much better when you have to make the effort. You appreciate it more.”
“I’ll take a pass.” I sipped my latte and waved at a passing student I recognized from last year’s classes. “I do love the holidays, but after that, it’s just a long, cold slog until spring is back again.”
This year, like every other year, I’d flown home for Christmas. Although my parents were getting older, they’d still had the same big family dinner that they did every year. I’d gotten to catch up with my siblings and play with my nieces and nephews. Gifts were exchanged and cheer was had.
Lora and I had been in touch a few times over the holiday season, and I knew her vacation had been less idyllic. For one thing, she’d barely had any vacation from her new job. Since she set her own schedule, she’d only taken the bare minimum of days off. She’d seen her parents, and had a good time, but although she didn’t say anything, I knew she’d been thinking about Chantel.
“Anyway,” I said, wanting to get off the topic before that sad look came into her eyes, “did you have a chance to look at the notes I sent you?”
We discussed her article for a few minutes as we trudged along the path. As usual, she barely needed any help – her ideas were fully fleshed out, and all I was doing was suggesting a few more sources she could reference.
My boots had a slight heel, not really meant for walking, and I found myself slowing as we neared the south end of campus. The parking lot was nearby, and as much as my winter coat and hot latte helped, I was still getting chilled straight through.
“You okay?” Lora asked, seeing me shiver. “Do you want to go inside somewhere?”
“No, I’m used to it.” I pulled my scarf tighter around my neck. “I forgot this is the first winter you’ve really known me. I’m permanently frozen from December through to March.”
“I knew you a little last winter,” she said. “I remember how you were bundled up in about eight sweaters when I came to your office hours.”
I laughed. “I run a little warmer while I’m teaching – I guess the nerves keep me heated up – but when I’m sitting alone in my office, I’m basically a block of ice.”
“Do you want my scarf?” she asked. “I’m pretty warm right now.”
“That’s nice of you, but I’m fine.”
“Sydney, please.” She stopped walking and fixed me with a glare. “Take the sca
rf.” She was already unlooping it from her far-too-graceful neck.
“I don’t need it.”
“I’m not going to wear it. Take it.”
“And if I don’t wear it either?”
She shook her head. “Has anyone ever told you you’re really stubborn?” Pulling my hood down, she threaded her scarf over my own. “With everything you do for me, you can’t accept wearing my scarf?” She put my hood back, and the brush of her fingers on my skin made me shiver in a whole different way.
“Fine,” I sighed. “But don’t get used to this.”
“Don’t get used to you letting me be nice to you?” She rolled her eyes. “Thought we were friends. This is what friends do for each other, isn’t it?”
With no good response, I started walking again. Although her scarf did make sure all the bare skin on my neck was covered, it was still chilly out here, and my shoulders tensed against the cold.
“You’re still cold,” Lora said.
“How could you tell?” I was making my best effort not to shiver, and as far as I could tell, I was succeeding.
“I can see the signs.” She nodded to my hunched shoulders. “You’re freezing. C’mon, come here.” She slung an arm around my waist, pulling me close to her. Her body pressed up to mine, and her heat radiated through her jacket.
My breath caught in my throat. Suddenly my knees felt too weak to keep walking, and only the support of her slim arm kept me upright.
“Did that help?” she asked softly.
She had no idea what she was doing to me. “It helps a lot,” I said, a thrill running through my core.
It just didn’t help in the way she thought.
Nineteen – Lora
As January turned to February, a problem began to take root in my mind. Most years, it wasn’t an issue. I’d been fine with being single, and then for the past three years, I’d been with Chantel. This year, Valentine’s Day had crept up on me, and I didn’t know how to handle it.
Chantel had always gone over the top for V-Day. I always told her it was a made-up holiday that didn’t mean anything, but she saw it as an opportunity to sweep me off my feet. So she did, year after year, each Valentine’s outdoing the last.
For our last year together, she’d taken me on a ski trip complete with flowers, chocolate, and lingerie. We’d had a chalet to ourselves, and she’d been in such a good mood the whole weekend that it’d put me in a good mood, too. The fireplace in the chalet had kept us cozy, since we ended up spending most of the weekend in bed.
This year, I’d be alone – and while I absolutely knew that was for the best, I couldn’t help the memories coming back to me when I walked by romantic store displays or when Valentine’s-themed ads played on TV.
I tried writing an article on how the holiday was anti-feminist and misogynistic… but without actually believing in what I was saying, I ended up setting it aside. I loved Valentine’s. I just hated being alone for it.
“Do you think you’ll start dating again soon, then?” my friend Brandi asked as I vented to her over drinks.
She’d been in my undergrad with me, and we’d been close friends right up to the break-up. I’d gotten back in touch with her lately, as I had with several of my other old friends. I’d explained my absence by saying I’d been upset over Chantel and my lack of a proper job.
I hadn’t wanted to open up about the abuse situation, so I knew some probably wondered whether the cheating rumors were true. I just said I was in a better place now and I was ready to maintain my friendships again.
“I don’t know,” I told her. “I don’t think so. I’ll just keep complaining about it.” I forced a smile.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” She sipped her cocktail. “Because I know someone who’d be more than happy to take you out on a Valentine’s date, if you were up for it.”
I blinked. She knew someone who had a crush on me? She was straight and taken, so I knew she wasn’t talking about herself. “Who?”
Leaning in, she giggled. “If I tell you, do you promise you’ll give that person a shot?”
“No.” I rolled my eyes. What if it was a guy, or someone I just wasn’t into?
“Then I’m not telling.” She crossed her arms, giving me a self-satisfied look.
“C’mon, please tell me.” I spoke louder, trying to yell over the bar’s noise. “I told you I’m not ready to date. I’m just curious who might like me. Is it someone I know?”
“Uh-huh. Someone you know very well.”
Something clicked, and my stomach turned over. “Brandi, you’re not talking about Chantel, are you?”
She grinned, and my stomach tied itself in a knot. “I still have her on Facebook, and she’s been posting about you. She doesn’t say who it’s about, of course, but it’s obviously you. It was so romantic. Do you want to read it?”
I kept myself steady even though I felt like crumpling. “No.”
“Are you sure you don’t even want to look?” She seemed truly disappointed. “I would be overjoyed if Jared wrote something like that about me.”
“Even if it was after you’d been broken up for months?” I didn’t want to tell her about how Chantel had hit me, but I had to make her understand. “We split up for a reason, and knowing that she’s still publicly trying to get me back, it’s… manipulative.”
Looking down at her drink, Brandi made a face. “It seems romantic to me.”
“It wasn’t your relationship!” Now my voice was too loud, and Brandi cringed back as if I’d snapped at her. Well, I basically had. “Sorry,” I said more calmly. “I just don’t think people understand what went on between us. She wasn’t a good partner to me, and I’m never going to take her back. Not even for Valentine’s Day.”
The conviction behind my words surprised even me. I wasn’t even tempted to see Chantel again – although I guessed I might break down and look up her post later. I still missed her, but not in the way where I actually wanted to be with her.
I missed her the way I missed my childhood – as something from a long time ago, that I could never go back to.
*
I lay on my bed – a real bed now, I’d bought it as a Christmas present to myself – and surfed the Internet. Virginia lay beside me in a purring heap, and I occasionally reached over to stroke her soft fur in between the trashy articles I was reading.
I was trying my hardest not to look up Chantel’s post, but I was on the verge of failing. As much as I knew I never wanted to speak to her again, I was curious what she’d said that had Brandi so keen on us getting back together. Brandi had never been particularly close to her, although like my other friends, she’d been saddened when she heard about the end of the relationship.
“I’m not going to look,” I told Virginia. “I’m stronger than that.”
The cat – no longer a kitten – mewled. As long as she was getting petted, she didn’t particularly care what I did.
“Oh look, a text.” I clicked it, noting that it was from another friend I’d recently reconnected with. LORA! Have you seen Chantel’s post? it read. You really need to give her another shot!
My gut twisted, and I let out a sigh. Maybe I needed to read it just so she’d stop spreading misinformation.
My phone buzzed with another text, and I reluctantly looked at it. My spirits lifted when I saw it was from Sydney. Lots of thoughts about that last article – call me?
I called her right away, but not to talk about the article. “Could you do me a huge favor?” I asked when she picked up.
“Of course. Anything you need.”
My heart swelled. She was honestly the world’s sweetest person, and I had no idea what I’d done to deserve having her in my life. “It seems that Chantel posted something on Facebook about wanting me back,” I said. “Could you look it up for me and summarize it? I just want to know what I’m dealing with.”
“Oh, sure.”
“Thank you so much,” I said. “I’d do it myself, but
I already have her blocked, and I don’t want to unblock her just for this. Plus I’m scared that if I read it, I’ll fall for her lies again – you know how she gets to me, and – ”
“Lora, I already said I’d do it.” There was a laugh in her voice.
Only she could make me smile when we were talking about Chantel. With anyone else, I would’ve still been feeling sick. Of course, she was the only one who really knew the full story about Chantel.
I waited for her to find the post. Luckily Chantel had made it public, so that Sydney didn’t need to add her to her friends list.
“Okay, got it,” she said, and paused to read it. “This is… um… wow.”
I bit my lip. “That bad?”
“It’s… well…” She coughed. “Don’t read it.”
Fuck, now I wanted to see it more than ever. “What’s it about, though?”
“Just a lot of compliments about how amazing you are, and how much she regrets the things she did wrong, and how she’ll never find someone else like you. She talks about your last couple of Valentine’s Days and all the things she’d do for you this year if she had the honor of still being with you.”
“Oh.” Surprisingly, I didn’t care that much. I’d heard all of that before, and I knew it didn’t mean anything. If I went back to Chantel, she’d go back to her old ways, sooner or later.
“You okay?” Sydney asked softly.
“Yeah, of course.” I cleared my throat. “Just thinking about how incredibly not tempted I am, honestly. I think I might really be over her.”
“That’s great!”
The enthusiasm in her voice had me smiling again. It was so sweet that all she wanted was to see me healthy, happy, and away from Chantel.
Well… I wondered if there wasn’t a little self-interest in there, too. I still hadn’t forgotten about that time we’d talked about the idea of us dating. For the millionth time, her words replayed in my mind.
Shatter Me Page 9
