Page 41 of Alexander: Alexander's Story

Walking into the private hall to the large bathroom, I pass dueling closets,hisandhers. His is full, not surprising, but when I turn to look at “hers,” I find it’s filled as well. Clothes hanging up.Gorgeousclothes. Shoes line the shelves. Everything smells expensive, like a classic floral perfume and a hint of leather. There’s even a suitcase tucked around a corner. It’s all still here.Like a shrine.

No wonder he never invited me up here. It would feel like a betrayal.

The bathroom is the same story. All his toiletries line the sink besidehers.

The monogrammed makeup bag is what does me in, though.JD. My gut twists.Jess D-something.

Fuck, he’s sick. And I am, too. Sick for being here, thinking I could have any effect againstthis.

He isn’t ready.And he likely never will be.

It’s been six months, and he’s still holding on to every fragment of her he can. Would he have kept the Christmas presents under the tree if it hadn’t been for Blanks?Probably.

I have a hard time believing Blanks is the one she’s with, but maybe it is him. Maybe all these people are fucked up, and I can’t see it because I hadn’t wanted to. Or maybe I couldn’t because I’m fucked up too.

Yeah, this is hell.Just more and more of the same. Always wanting, but never having.

I walk downstairs, wishing like crazy I hadn’t come up here at all. I should have heeded the unspoken rule. Now that the wool has been pulled back from my eyes, I can’t unsee it.

I grab my phone, change into a baggy tee, and head for the basement to watch a sad movie when I pause.

Slipping the diamond ring and its matching band off my finger, I set them on my bathroom counter as pain radiates throughout me.Okay.

Sad movie night can now commence. Maybe I’ll watch Steel Magnolias or something like that. I feel ready to be gutted by someone else’s pain for once.

Alex

It was certifiable; I’m a piece of shit.

I stare down at her, asleep on the basement sofa, cradling her phone with the screen still unlocked, where she’d been looking at flights. I don’t blame her. Maybe that’s what I should do: just buy her the first ticket out of here. Anywhere she wants to go, she could.

I take a seat next to her on the sofa and hang my head down, my elbows resting on my knees.I don’t deserve her.

Her phone clicking locked draws my attention. She’s staring at me, and I’m looking back, tears already brimming in my eyes.

The sympathy she usually reserves for me is lacking, her stare vacant. Her ring finger is naked. She chews on her bottom lip, fighting back whatever it is she really wants to say.

“I didn’t deserve this,” she finally manages to get out.I agree.“I don’t even want to be your friend right now.”But fuck, that hurts.

“Okay. C-can I explain?” She stares blankly but doesn’t reply. It tumbles out of me before I can stop it, “Jess-she fucked my best friend, and I never got over it.”

“Blanks?” she asks. I shake my head.

“Damian. When things ended between us, I sort of thought it was only a matter of time before they… And it was because she’s with him now. Finding out this afternoon…it was bad timing, I know.”

“Bad timing?” She scoffs. “My whole life is bad timing, Alex. I literally can’t listen to you tell me some sob story. Not tonight. Go find someone else to pretend to be your wife, okay?” She pushes the blanket off her and moves to stand.

But I’m standing with her. “I’m sorry, Emma, okay?”

“Is that a sorry with an ‘o’ and two ‘r’s’? Or just an s-r-y?” She turns around to leave, but I grab her arm.

“I’msorry, Emma. You didn’t deserve that. Iknow, and I said I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think you mean a single word that comes out of your mouth,” her tone is mean. She shakes my hand off her arm, flustered. “I hate you, Alex. Because I knew my life was shit before, and I’d accepted it. But then you bring me here,” she motions around, tears clouding her eyes. “And I see how amazing life could be with you,” she sighs. With a lower voice, she finally asks, “But how can anyone be with you when you’re still with her?”

“I’m not with her,” the words are ground out between clenched teeth.

“Because you don’t want to be?” Emma asks the one question I can’t answer honestly. When the words won’t form, she looks away, then says, “That’s what I thought.”