Page 20 of June: Jess' Story

“He may have just told me, but I already knew.” I reach out to holdJamie’s arm slightly. I don’t know why. I think a part of me hopes it will make Tommy jealous.

Tommy tilts his head like a lost puppy. All innocence.Ick. Ick. Ick.

“I’m not interested in being anyone’s spare,” I say, giving Tommy a sad smile. I look at Jamie to see concern reflected back at me.

“I don’t want it to be an ‘either or,’ Jess,” Tommy says to me and I roll my eyes mentally.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t, Tommy.” I push my chair back with my legs, pat Jamie on the chest as I go up on tiptoes and whisper in his ear, “He’s all yours, buddy. Thanks for ruining my daughter’s family.” And then I walk away. I ignore Tommy’s plea for me to stop, and when I look back, Jamie is preventing Tommy from getting up with a hand on his shoulder.

Fuck them.

I walk out of the alley and down 9th Street. I walk with abandon. I even slip out of my heels and stroll barefoot down the streets of DC. (Gross, right?) Well, I don’t care. Can’t care.

I walk to City Center and stop for gelato, then walk up and down the brightly lit shops. I pretend to window shop, but I don’t absorb an ounce of anything I see.

Eventually, I find a planter and sit on the edge to stare off into the distance, occasionally glancing down to see if my gelato has turned to creamy soup in its cup.

My life is shuddering to a halt while the world around me…just keeps marching. Pedestrians head to the metro. Tourists stop in front of Moncler. Interns pop into Dolcezza for their pre-going-out quad espresso. It’s amazing, all this forward motion. But not me.

I’ve never wished for a time machine before. Not when my dad died, not when Julia died. But now…I think I would go back. I’d go back to a night I wish I could forget, and see how that might have changed…everything.

But that doesn’t exist. It’s not real. So I pull out my phone and hover over Britain’s contact. I could use my best friend right now…but damn, she doesn’t need anymore stress in her life. She’s just a few months pregnant. Heartbroken. She’s trying to forge a new life for herself, and her kids. She doesn’t need to carry my weight either.She’s unknowingly carried my mistakes for years.

Instead, I flip to messages and do something I haven’t done in a long time. Years, actually.

Jess

Today was a bad day. My husband is in love with his best friend. He asked if I’d be their third wheel, but I won’t. I refuse to do it. Not sure what I’ll do now. Maybe it’s time to move back to the city. Maybe May will let E and I have my old room. But I think you’re right. Me coming to DC was a mistake.

Maybe I text Amy because I know in all likelihood I’ve just sent the message out into the ether and not to Alex, or anyone real for that matter. Which is oddly satisfying in its own right.

I’m sure Alex disconnected the line years ago. But on the off chance he didn't, there’s a sort of hopeless thrill I get from texting him all my craziest thoughts and dreams (read: fears). It’s freeing to tell someone who doesn’t give a crap about me. Someone whocan’t judge me. And even if they did, I wouldn’t give a shit.

I wait a few minutes, a little bit hopeful, and when nothing comes through, I slip my phone back into my new Bottega Venetta clutch (thanks, Tommy) and start walking towards the metro. I don’t bother checking for a response from “Amy” after that.

When I get to the escalator at Gallery Place, I put my shoes back on. I put on my don’t-fuck-with-me-face, and head home.

Home. Fucking laughable.

FIVE

Jess

It’s almost midnight when Tommy slips into our bed.The fucking gall.I immediately sit up and stare at him. My eyes wide. Livid. That’s what I am, livid. He has the nerve to get into our bed after…that?

“What are you doing?” I ask harshly.

“Come here.” He reaches out for me, but I lurch back and away from him. “Jess, baby, please come here.”No. No. No.I shake my head. Finding words is all of a sudden way too hard.

He sits up and slips an arm around my midsection, pulling me towards him. I could fight back, push him away, but the shitty thing is, I need somewhere to rest my head. I need someone to hold me and tell me everything is going to be alright. I need comforting, too, and it’s a miserable realization to understand that Tommy is that person for me —wasthat person for me.

Fuck him for smelling so good, too. The cologne I bought him for his birthday fills our shared space. Our shared existence. And especially fuck him forfeelingso good, for absorbing the weight I’ve placed on his shoulder.

“Jess, I told you without telling you a long time ago.” I stiffen in his arms, at his words. I know Tommy is bisexual. I knew that. It’s never been an issue. Not once. It’s the betrayal that bothers me. It’s the fact that he’s notmineand mine alone that bothers me.

Yes, I knew there was someone he was with a long time ago that he still had feelings for, but he assured me it was in the past. It would have never worked. It couldneverhappen. (Never say never, huh?)

“I didn’t know it was Jamie, Tommy. You left that part out.” I can feel him nod against my back, then rest his chin on my shoulder.