Harriet was pacing in front of me. “Are you going to marry Ryan?”
“No!” I said.
Everyone backstage froze, and turned to stare at me. Harriet grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet.
“Come on,” she said.
We made it to my dressing room, where she kicked everyone out and shut the door behind them.
“I thought you and Cal…” she said.
“I know!” I said. “Oh my god. Cal.”
“He did not seem pleased,” Harriet said.
I gave her a look. She put her hands up.
“This is such a mess,” I wailed, feeling like everything was spinning out of control.
I wanted so badly for all of this to be a horrible dream, but I looked down at the ring again, felt its weight on my finger, and knew that it wasn’t a dream at all. I’d just been proposed to—onstage—by the very person I’d planned to break up with.
And I’d accepted.
“Why did you say yes?” Harriet asked.
I stared at her. “What else was I supposed to say?” I held up my hand, the ring. “Thanks, but no thanks? In front of that crowd? In front of our fans?”
Harriet chewed on her nails.
“Shit,” I said. “Fuck. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Because what else was there to say?
How was I going to get out of this?
“What do I do?” I asked.
Harriet looked panicked. “I don’t know,” she said. “How would I know!” She was pacing again. “I mean, I don’t know anything about this kind of stuff. I haven’t even had one boyfriend, let alone two.”
“I don’t have two boyfriends,” I said, but she was still going.
“I mean, I would say that honesty is the best policy, but it’s not like I’ve been completely honest.”
“What?”
I wasn’t even sure she heard me. Her hands were gesticulating madly, and it almost seemed like she was in a trance, talking to me, but mostly talking to herself. In the brief moments when her hands stilled, I could see that all of her nails had been chewed to the quick.
“I’ve been trying to tell you for months,” she said. “Months! And I’m just too much of a coward.”
I got up and grabbed her by the arms. Stopping her. “Harriet, what are you talking about?”
Her eyes were wild and unfocused. I waited until she seemed to see me. Actually see me.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“I’m gay,” she said, and then put her hands over her mouth.
“Okay,” I said, waiting for her to tell me what she’d been so afraid to share.
We stared at each other, each of us waiting.
Finally it sank in.
“That’s what you’ve been trying to tell me?” I asked. “You’re gay?”
She nodded, eyes wide.
“That’s great!” I said, pulling her into a tight hug.
“It is?”
“I mean,” I said, “it’s not bad. Is it?”
“No,” she said. “I just didn’t know if you’d—”
“You’re my best friend and I love you,” I said.
“You’re not disappointed?”
“Why would I be disappointed?”
“Because of stuff and LC…” She looked down at the floor. “You wanted us to get together so badly.”
I shook my head. “I just wanted you to be happy. I want you to be happy. That’s all. That’s all.”
I could see relief wash over her. And there was a little sadness in knowing she’d been so scared to tell me, but I was glad that she finally had. It was good enough news that for a moment I completely forgot about the massively fucked-up mess I was currently in the middle of.
My hand felt so heavy.
Both Harriet and I stared at the ring.
It was enormous. Beautiful. Not my style at all.
“You could pull the moon out of orbit with that thing,” Harriet said.
“What am I going to do?” I asked.
We sat. I wanted to take the ring off, but I was a little afraid I’d put it down somewhere and something would happen to it.
“You have to talk to him,” Harriet said.
“Cal or Ryan?”
“Both,” she said.
I nodded.
“Ryan first, probably,” she said.
I nodded again, but when the show ended, the first person at my door was Cal. Harriet made a quick but awkward getaway, leaving us alone.
“Nice ring,” he said.
It was in a tone I’d never heard him use before. Mean. Cruel. That wasn’t the Cal I knew.
“I had no idea it was going to happen,” I said.
He gave me an incredulous look. “Really,” he said. “This is all just some insane coincidence.”
“Yes!” I said.
“You just happened to follow me to my room the night before your boyfriend proposed to you onstage in front of thousands of people?”
He was making it sound like I’d planned the most elaborately cruel prank.
“It came out of nowhere,” I said. “We haven’t even spoken about marriage.”
That was all true. Mostly.
Every so often Ryan would mention it, but it was always around fans and in some casual “maybe we’ll get engaged, wink-wink” way that I’d always assumed was to keep the rumor mill talking about him.
I realized now that I probably should have taken it more seriously. Probably should have taken Ryan more seriously.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I was going to tell him after the tour was over.”
Cal crossed his arms. “And now?”
“I’m going to tell him,” I said. “I just…I just need some time.”
He nodded, not in an “I understand, that makes perfect sense” way, but in a tense “well, if that’s how you want to handle it” way. He was so angry.
“How much time?” he asked. “Should I come back on your one-year wedding anniversary?” His face was twisted into a sneer. “Or should I just show up the night before and sneak away in the morning after you’ve had your fun?”