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  My whole body trembles. I can barely get the words out, but I’ve kept this bottled up for far too long.

  “You hate me! Why do you hate me so much?”

  “Lex, I don’t hate you.”

  “Then why are you so angry at me all the time? Why are you so cold? I don’t know what you want,” I say, weakly raising my hands palms out in surrender. I run into the bedroom, almost tripping over the shoes he left in the middle of the hallway, and dive onto the bed in a fit of agitation.

  He follows. In a steely voice, he says, “You mope around in sweats and a t-shirt. What is it that you want from me?”

  His words sting, but I don’t have a comeback for that one. He’s right.

  He sits on the edge of the bed next to me and in the dim light from our bedroom lamp, I can see his pursed lips and tightly clenched fists. He tosses the money I gave him on the bed.

  “You may think you’ve got it all figured out, with your excel spreadsheets telling me how to get out of debt, but that doesn’t make you any smarter or wiser than me. I can’t buy dinner. I can’t even buy you a pack of lifesavers without you trying to give me money.”

  “I’m tired of struggling,” I say quietly.

  He fires back, “We only struggle because of you. It’s always about you. You have a great job, but if you hate it so much why won’t you quit? We could’ve been gone, but you don’t want to leave your precious California. You can’t move to Anderson.”

  Spit flies from his mouth.

  “I tried to marry you, but you called it off. I tried to go to a good school, but you wouldn’t let me. I work extra shifts on the weekend. I’ve done everything I can to make things okay, but nothing’s ever good enough.”

  I reach tentatively for his hand, but it remains clenched at his side. The light from the overhead lamp catches the engagement ring on my finger dangling in the space between us. When he gave me this ring, I was so dazzled by the half carat diamond in a gold setting. But when I looked closely, I actually saw three black spots embedded in the stone. The jeweler told me they are flaws in the diamond, making it the most perfect representation of our relationship. Flawed. I withdraw my hand.

  The room goes silent except for the sound of his heavy breathing and the wracking sound of my jagged breath going in and out of my lungs. We stare at each other for a split second longer than I can handle. I turn away.

  He stalks towards the door punching the wall just to the right of the door frame on his way out. His keys jingle. The door slams shut behind him, shaking our whole apartment, while I sit there with a lump in my throat big enough to make my whole body ache.

  “Damn lifesavers,” I say to myself, unraveling the wrapper a little more to release one. Grasping the tiny red circle between my fingertips, I hold it millimeters from my eye, peeking through the hole like a telescope before popping it into my mouth.

  “So, when are you coming?” I’ve just pulled up to Belle’s Bridal, but rather than go in right away, I returned Jamie’s phone call.

  “I’ll be there for five days next month. Tony’s picking me up, and I’m going to stay with him for most of it, but I’m gonna see my mom too.”

  “I can’t wait,” I say before hanging up.

  With a sigh, my attention turns to the display window and the twin headless mannequins draped in white. I’d rather run for three hours on a treadmill in a non-air conditioned, overpriced gym than look at bridal gowns right now. I’m meeting Sarah, family, and friends at the very same bridal salon where I fantasized about finding the perfect wedding gown for myself. Realistically, I know I’ll end up at Budget Bridal where I can find more affordably priced dresses, but it’s nice to dream about being pampered and catered to at Belle’s Bridal.

  As a guest of the bride, an attendant ushers me over to a private viewing area and hands me a glass of champagne. I help myself to a plate of cheese and fruit and sit down on the richly colored, red velvet sofa next to one of Sarah’s friends and attempt to morph from Debbie Downer to excited, supportive friend.

  Sarah emerges from the fitting room in a gorgeous A-line princess dress that complements her curvy figure, taming her generous cleavage with a sweetheart neckline. When she gives me a hug, I strain my eyes to see the number on the $7,000 price tag dangling from the dress.

  “I’m so glad you made it.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” I say, infusing my voice with false cheer. I’ve done my best to put a lid on my misery and partake in her daily wedding banter, but I’m having a difficult time feeling bad for her because her florist can’t get the tulips in the perfect shade of pink when my engagement is blowing up in a miserable cloud of smoke. When do I get to plan my dream wedding?

  I grin and bear the whole dress shopping experience and when she decides on a beautiful gown fit for a queen with intricate beading on the bodice, I tell her that it’s absolutely the perfect dress for her and that I am so happy for her.

  When I step outside the whimsy and fantasy of the bridal salon, the weight of the world once again crashes down.

  Chapter 4

  We’ve run out of words. We don’t know what to say anymore. Sorrow fills his eyes but I’m so bogged down with guilt and the energy it requires to cope with the daily grind of work, I can’t acknowledge it. Will’s a firecracker ready to explode and I’m a ghost—there, but not really. I didn’t even say goodbye when I left the house to go pick up Jamie.

  Jamie always did have way more guy friends then girlfriends, so I’m not surprised she’s crashing with a guy even now that she’s married. There’s nothing strange about that for her. Overgrown foliage and potted plants line the pathway leading up to Tony’s house. When I hear the sound of loud barking come through the door, I panic because that big bark must belong to a pretty big dog. It’s a totally irrational fear of mine but knowing that it’s irrational doesn’t make me any less scared when I see a dark, wet nose peeking through the door as Jamie cracks it open.

  “I’ll meet you at the car,” I say, retreating from the doorway where the dog seems to be chomping at the bit to get out.

  “He won’t bite.” Jamie laughs.

  I hate it when people say that. Telling me he won’t bite doesn’t make me any less afraid. That is yet another issue between Will and me. In addition to being an uptight bitch about everything else, I won’t even let him get a dog. In no uncertain words, I said, “Uh, uh. Not ever gonna happen.”

  Getting a dog in an apartment that doesn’t even have a balcony isn’t practical, but try telling him that.

  Jamie comes running out of the house, her slim legs encased in skinny jeans with strategically placed runs in the thighs, and wearing high wedges. Her long, straight black hair flies out behind her.

  I can still remember the day we met in Mrs. White’s English class back in eighth grade. She was popular with the boys and everyone else, and we were so different, but we were fast friends. It turned out we were neighbors, and she was one of the fortunate few to have a car. It was an old beater but in high school, nobody cared as long as it ran.

  It’s a perfectly warm day, and my mood lifts immensely as we head toward the mall. Jamie loves to shop. Where else would we go?

  I drive downtown while Jamie immediately launches into a tirade about how much she hates South Carolina. It’s freezing in the winter and humid in the summer. She has to drive almost an hour just to get MAC make up. The malls out there suck. Everything shuts down by nine o’clock.

  “What kind of place doesn’t even have happy hour? People out there don’t even know what I’m talking about when I ask them when it starts. It’s insane. The answer is never and it stinks.”

  “Well, how do you like your job out there?”

  “It’s the only thing I like about being out there.”

  She’s working as the assistant program director at a convalescent home. She hasn’t even finished getting her Master’s Degree in Business yet, but even in a small podunk town, she managed to find a decent paying job in the fie
ld she’s studying in school. Job opportunities disappear when they see me coming, but they seem to drop right into her lap.

  “And how is Kevin?”

  “He works a lot. I don’t get to see him as much as I’d like, but things are good with us. We’re making it work, but let’s just say I’m really glad it’s a temporary assignment. I can’t wait to move back.”

  I was a bit doubtful at first because Jamie has a tendency to fall hard and fast. She’s infatuated with the idea of happily ever after. The first time she got married, she’d only been dating the guy for one month. The marriage lasted six months. This time, she waited a mere four months. But two years later, she and Kevin are still going strong and it’s looking like he wasn’t just another passing fancy after all.

  “So, how are you and Will doing? How’s work? How are you?”

  I don’t know what to say.

  “Let’s shop then go have lunch. I’ll tell you all the gory details later.”

  “Ooohhhh they feel so good.” Jamie and I each tried on a pair of Uggs in Nordstrom’s. The shop-a-thon went on longer then we initially planned. We’ve been out so long that our feet hurt and the air has chilled. I distinctly remember thinking how ugly these shoes were when I was in eighth grade. The popular girls even wore them with skirts and I thought they looked dumb. But as I slide my tired foot inside that warm fuzzy boot, they seem like the brightest idea next to sliced bread.

  I check out the price tag on the box, wondering if I really want to pay this much for a pair of clunky moon boots. Christmas will be here before I know it and we’re still paying off the mattress we bought when we upgraded to a queen-sized bed.

  “Just get ‘em both! They’re cute. It’ll be fun wearing them together.”

  It’s just that simple for her. As long as I’ve known her, she’s never worried too much about money—or anything else, for that matter. She floats through life getting everything she wants without having to try.

  Jamie goes for the tall ones, but I decide on the less expensive, short, black pair. Marching determinedly to the cash register, I hand the sales lady the box and tell her I’ll be wearing them out of the store so there’s no turning back.

  We shop well past lunchtime and now we’re starving, but at least our feet are comfy as we take the mall exit leading to Fourth Street so we can find a place to eat. The streets are buzzing with energy and people dressed up for a night on the town. The air is thick with electricity that I hope is catching. Jamie and I link arms and wander down the street until we spot a cute little restaurant we want to try.

  “So, what’s going on?” Jamie says as soon as we’re inside, seated and have placed our orders. I suggested Italian because there is nothing better to drown my sorrows in then carbs and wine.

  “Well... things with Will and I haven’t been going that well lately.”

  “Just two weeks ago you said that everything with you and Will was, and I quote, great. Was that a lie?”

  “Well...yeah. I guess it was,” I admit, nodding my head. “We had a big fight...well, two big ones actually. The second one being the worst one we’ve ever had. He sleeps on the couch. We’re like roommates except most roommates talk at least. We don’t even really do that.”

  I go on to tell her about the petty arguments, forgotten anniversaries and how, even though I’m only twenty-four, I feel like a beaten down fifty-year-old who stays home all the time with my curmudgeon fiancé.

  Her brow wrinkles with concern. “How long has this been going on?”

  I cock my head to the side and cast my eyes sideways as if that will help me remember better. That’s a really good question.

  “Hmmm...The last happy memory I have is our one-year engagement anniversary. He took time off from work and surprised me with a weekend getaway at the beach in Coronado.”

  I think hard, trying to come up with something else more recent, but that’s it. Everything happened really fast. I got the job at Silver Insurance, so he transferred to a hotel down here where he works as a front desk reservationist and proposed just days after we moved in together. He took me out to dinner at a fancy restaurant and set it up so that when the waiter came back with dessert, it was my ring on the plate instead. Like the lead in a romantic comedy that leaves you in tears at the end, he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. Just like the movie, everyone around us started clapping.

  Within a month, we planned a small wedding in Ohio. We’d already waited years for me to finish college, so we didn’t want to wait any longer. It was just going to be family at a small ceremony in his mom’s church, and dinner afterwards. It made me a little sad that I wasn’t going to have a “real” wedding, but we couldn’t afford it. I tried to convince myself I was okay with that, but we called it off a few weeks before the actual date. Well, I called it off, as he is always quick to remind me, but it felt rushed and thrown together. I was settling, and I didn’t want to regret it later.

  “But, Alexis, wasn’t that, like, two years ago? Two years, and you’ve never said a word?”

  In the beginning, being together was like water ripples in a lazy river. Everything was so natural and easy. But something shifted. Those ripples became aggressively angry waves, and we found ourselves in the middle of a tsunami, clinging to a broken tree branch. Thinking backwards, I scan my memory. What changed?

  “Two years ago, he switched to day shift and got weekends off.”

  “Wasn’t that a good thing?” Jamie asks, confused.

  “Yes. It was. We got to spend more time together, but then it made school harder. That’s also about when he decided he wanted to move to Anderson.”

  “Anderson, what? Is that a place?” Jamie asks.

  “Yes, it’s a place. This tiny little town in Indiana. It snows a lot there. Like, knee deep snow and salted roads. I said he wasn’t trying hard enough, and he said I didn’t understand how difficult it was to juggle full time work and school because I didn’t have to do it that way.”

  “What does that have to do with Anderson?”

  “This small private college there offered him a partial scholarship. A partial scholarship. He was interested in their Computer Science program, but it didn’t make sense to take on student loans and upend our lives when he could just stick it out at the community college. If he can’t get through one semester without dropping a class, I don’t think anything would be different in Anderson. He misses small town life with its lower cost of living, slower pace, and four seasons, but dark cold winters would be really hard on me. I need the sun.”

  “You couldn’t give it a chance? It can’t be worse than South Carolina,” Jamie replies, which only massages my guilt about refusing.

  Will’s mother did a good job of that too. He never told her about all the classes he dropped. She had no way of knowing how much time he spent with his eyes glazed over and a game controller clenched in his hands. When he turned down the Anderson scholarship, I was to blame for keeping him from moving closer to her and preventing him from pursuing his lifelong dream of becoming a video game designer.

  “What would I do there? Work at Walmart? I couldn’t move my whole life when I don’t trust him enough to believe he would follow through. We’re not married,” I say defending myself.

  “And what about that wedding? Have you even talked about it?”

  Four years dating and almost three years engaged. That’s a long time for anyone, let alone someone who is twenty-four, which means I live in dread of that inevitable question. When’s the wedding? They always ask. The private voice inside my head answers, Maybe never, or, Would you be interested in financing it? But my standard, cookie cutter response is always, We’re working on it, accompanied by an exaggerated smile to throw them off the scent. We just can’t decide on what kind of wedding we want, or, We’re were saving money, works just as well. Pretty soon, they stopped asking and just started saying, Oh well, you’re practically married, and we continued to fool the world into thinking that we have the pe
rfect relationship. My eyes go glassy with unshed tears, but I blink them away.

  “We don’t even talk about it anymore.” The wedding has become that elephant in the room nobody speaks of.

  “Why are you still together?” Jamie asks curiously.

  “I love him...and I’m too afraid to be without him,” I answer truthfully. The cracks in my soul are a lot bigger than the cracks in our relationship, and as dysfunctional as our relationship has become, he’s all I have.

  “I’m fine. We’ll make it work. We have to,” I tell her and make a goofy face to show her I’m really okay.

  Our waitress appears at our table with two hot steaming plates. “The fettuccine Alfredo for you, and the lasagna for you. Here’s some extra bread. Can I get anything else for you?”

  The first glass of wine is just starting to make me a little tipsy and a lot blue, so I ask for another.

  “Jamie, you don’t know how perfect your timing is. I really needed this.”

  “That’s what I’m here for. I’m your best friend, and I can’t believe you’re just now telling me all of this. What gives?”

  “You’ve had a lot going in your life too...and I guess I just hoped it would get better.”

  I push my plate closer to meet her fork, which is already straining towards my lasagna, and make a mess trying to get her fettuccine into my hungry mouth. We order desert, even though we’re stuffed, and catch up on all the things we’ve missed in each other’s lives since she moved.

  That night, my two glasses of wine at dinner turn into three. Invigorated by bustling downtown streets and a much needed separation from the jarring discord that has become my life, I drag Jamie into the next bar we pass. One shot of tequila turns into two, pushing my worries with Will into another dimension. In my altered state, boot cut jeans jammed into Ugg boots is actually a short red dress with black stilettos and I’m the hottest girl on the dance floor. I make eye contact with a cute guy sitting at the bar then saunter over and chat him up. After he buys me a cocktail, I move onto the next.