“Is that some kind of threat, Jersey?” Instantly, the visual of her and Andrew again dominated my thoughts. “Or are you just trying to make me lose my shit over the fact you’ve been with my best friend?”
“Seriously?” A flash of anger flared in her eyes, but then she stepped away from me, raised her hands, and shook her head. “None of it matters. I’m leaving.”
“You can’t leave.”
“Why?” she shrieked while shoving me with both hands. “Why do I need to be here? What the hell kind of game are you playing, Nate?”
“I’m not playing a game.”
“Yes, you are. If we’re just fucking, then you shouldn’t care if I’m here or not. Or if I fucked your friend or not. Just as I shouldn’t care that you care.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, exasperated with this conversation. Where the hell was all this coming from? Not only had it been a shock to hear she had turned up at my office last week, but it was also a shock to see the uncharacteristic way emotion now shimmered in her eyes. The heaving of her chest with each breath, the tremble of her full bottom lip, the desperation in her expression as she tried to escape me. Something was bothering her; every fiber of her being revealed as much. This woman in front of me wasn’t the tough-as-nails Amy I’d come to know.
Deciding on a new tactic, I softened my voice and asked, “Why are we fighting?” When I gently wrapped my hands around her upper arms, her eyes slid closed as if in pain. “Look at me. What is going on?”
Her lids slowly raised, but it was now defeat that I saw. “Please. Let me go. I can’t be here,” she whispered in a soft, pleading voice.
“No.” Not only wasn’t I going to allow that to happen, but I also wasn’t going to let her walk away. Taking it even further, I slid my hands up her bare arms until they found the smooth skin of her neck. “You’re not leaving. Not like this.” I closed the distance between us, pressing my body against hers. She tensed before the shimmer revealed itself through a tear, one I caught with my thumb. “What is this really about, Amy?”
“I can’t do this with you anymore, Nate.”
“Then let’s go inside, have a drink, party. Forget this.”
She shook her head adamantly. “No. I can’t see you anymore.”
I remained silent, fumbling through the emotions that paralyzed my thoughts and body. A sucker punch to the gut would’ve hurt less.
“Bye, Nate,” she added.
I gripped her arm to stop her. “Why are you walking away from this?” She went to respond and then shook her head. “Elaborate, Jersey.”
“Just go enjoy your party. I’m sorry I ruined your birthday.”
Survival mode almost kicked in. I should’ve agreed with her and moved on with my life. Should’ve gone back to playing the field no different from a seasoned ball player inning after inning. I should’ve also chalked up these past months for what it was… a great affair. It was inevitable that this day would come. We both knew that.
It was the part of me, a huge part of me, that wasn’t ready for this to end. Not yet. Contrarily, I felt we were just getting started. We had so much more to experience together. Ironically, none of what was left had to do with sex. Predictably, that scared the shit out of me, but not any more than her walking away did.
Meanwhile, Amy checked out. The entire argument that played out within me didn’t matter as she slipped out of my hold and walked toward the sidewalk. That was when I finally came to my senses. “Amy.” But she didn’t acknowledge, didn’t stop. She calmly strolled down my street, her phone pressed against an ear, and never looked back. “Amy! We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
Still nothing.
I could force her to stay. Or I could give her space, give me space, to figure out what the fuck had just happened between us. There was a third choice: leave with her. But that would open dialogue with myself, my friends, and my family that I wasn’t ready to have.
This was our birthday party, one that my sister-in-law had put a lot of effort into planning. My parents as well. I couldn’t chase Amy when I had no idea what it was she was even running from.
So I did the only thing I could… waited for the car she ordered to arrive, watched as she got into it, snapped a photo of its license plate, and, when it disappeared around the corner, went back inside to enjoy the party.
“Where’ve you been?” Brad asked two seconds through the door.
“None of your business.” When his lips twisted in annoyance, I snapped, “What?”
“Where’s Amy?”
“Why the fuck do you care?” I stalked away to grab a nice stiff drink, and he was smart not to antagonize me. This night was quickly careening off a cliff, and the only way to brace for impact would be to do so while nicely toasted.
But as I asked the bartender for a whiskey neat, Andrew said over my shoulder, “Dude, we need to talk.”
“Not now.” With drink in hand, I slid by him, deeper into the crowd. Of course he followed. He even went as far as gripping my upper arm to tug me out the back of the house.
Guests mingling and dancing made the decibel level under the tent far from conducive for a discussion. It also made it harder for me to punch Andrew square in the face if my instincts pushed me in that direction… without witnesses, at least. So instead I jabbed a finger back from where we came and led him up the stairs to my childhood bedroom.
After slamming the door shut, I placed my drink down on the dresser, afraid I would hurl it at his head. “Speak.”
“Come on, Nate. You can’t hold this against me.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“Because it was years ago. We met at a bar. I was there with a bunch of guys from my old firm. She was there with a group of women. One thing led to another, and we ended up at my place.” A vein pulsed in my neck, and Andrew noticing it had him swallowing nervously.
“Why didn’t you say anything the day we saw her at lunch?”
“Like I said, I had no idea it was her,” he whined. “She was clear across the restaurant and looked so different. Her hair used to be black and straight.” All he received from me was a few exasperated blinks. “It was one night,” he went on, pleading his case. “I didn’t even have her last name, address, or number. She hightailed it out of my apartment the minute I fell asleep, and that was the last I saw of her.”
The visual of them together replayed, and through gritted teeth, I asked, “I have one more question.” He eyed me like a tiger who had escaped his cage. “If she hadn’t left, would you have seen her again?” His blue eyes instantly darted away, and that was all it took for every molecule of anger I held to erupt. Like a maniac, I lunged, pushing him against the door.
“Fuck, Nate. Calm down.”
It was impossible to do. Between the description he’d just given of their time together, the visual cruelly playing in my head, and the fact he would’ve seen her again, it wasn’t Andrew in my clutches. It was a bastard who’d fucked my girl and would repeat that if given the chance.
“She’s mine,” I growled like an animal. Andrew’s eyes widened, but it wasn’t fear I saw… it was sympathy. He felt bad for me.