Page 91 of June: Jess' Story

“I’m afraid it’s just who we are, Jess. We’re runners.” I know.

This moment is like splicing a film. I mentally cut myself off from the Jess of a second ago to the Jess of now. The Jess of now has no clue about Alex and the pain that brings because I’ve mentally cut my life in two. W.A. and W.O.A. (with Alex and without Alex). Those are the two time periods I’m operating in, and we are firmly in the W.O.A. now. I may have thought I was before, too, but I wasn’t. That much is obvious.

“I’m sorry, Brit.” I say again.

“Stop saying it. I’ve known.”WHAT?

I slowly turn to face her head on, my face as white as a sheet.

“I knew the moment you stepped in my office. I hated you, but I was also so fucking curious about you, too.” My stomach is just one jumbled pit of sour feelings and bad decisions.

“Why did you let me work for you?” I ask her because in my mind, no self-respecting woman would put herself through that kind of torment. I know she’s a masochist, but…

She shrugs. “Honestly, it was for a lot of reasons. None of them are that great...”

“I need to know.”

“Okay, fine. I wanted to meet the woman who turned my husband's head. Thought maybe I could learn a thing or two from you. And then more ashamedly, I thought maybe me being jealous would be good for our marriage because at that point I had assumed he was cheating on me, or sort of wished he was because our marriage was in utter shambles.

And also, I needed a friend. And, if you turned out to be a terrible person, I could make your life miserable.” She tilts her head to the side, really examining me.

“But you weren’t a terrible person. You were a great friend. You pushed me to be better, and stronger, and you never gave Damian the time of day, at least in my company. And I fell in love with you.”

“Britain.” I’m crying. She’s crying, too.

She goes on. “He came home that night and told me everything. For as many things as Damian is, he wasnevernot honest with me. He told me everything when it happened. With you. And honestly, learning how to forgive someone for something Icould have done myself isn’t as hard as it seems. It’s just one foot in front of the other until, eventually, one moment, one day doesn’t define us. Or them. It’s just a blip. A fragment in time.”

“A snapshot,” I say.

“Yes! Exactly. And we wouldn’t throw someone away because of one bad photo, now would we?” We wouldn’t.

“You’re the best person I know, Brit.” I ugly cry. I mean, really. I’m sweaty. Hair is matted. Tears are rolling down my face and I can practically hear the plop they make when they hit the checkered tile floor.

“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m the best…I’ve been petty recently. I didn’t ask you to come to my wedding, I didn’t greet you when you moved here. I have to admit I was mad at you.”

“I know, and it was deserved.”

“Well, I don’t know that it was. Because I honestly thought you were lying to me about something much worse than you were. I thought you were cheating on Alex with Damian, and I was more angry for Alex than I was if you were sleeping with Damian.” She sort of laughs. “So, like the fact that you’re just friends, and I honestly think that’s a really beautiful thing to be with someone, I really don’t have a leg to stand on. And if it weren’t for the fact that you were engaged to Alex, I don’t think I would have cared at all if you and Damian were a thing. So as it turns out, I’m the asshole here.”

“You are hardly the asshole,” I scold her.

“Can we just agree to not keep any secrets? At all. Period. Please?”

“Agreed.”

“Great,” she says with a certain finality to it.

“Well, then, I am almost 100% positive that your brother is the love of my life. And well, you know how that just ended.”

“I do. She rubs at my hand before continuing, “But things can change, things can happen. Just give it time.”

I shake my head at her sadly. “I can’t invest any more time into someone who loves someone else more than me.” Brit rears back slightly at my comment.

“And who else would he love?” Her brows are furrowed with confusion.

“His wife, Amy.”Duh.(The duh is implied in my tone.)

“Alex never loved Amy,” Brit says sort of quietly, but with utter confidence while shaking her head.