Page 7 of The False Start (Off the Bench)

Chapter Five

LILA

“ I ’m sorry. I can talk now,” I say, once I’m outside free of both the noise and pitying eyes.

“Oh, but you couldn’t talk in front of your friends?”

“It was just loud, okay? The bar is packed and everyone’s yelling, so if you wanted to talk, I just needed to come outside.

It’s also rude to talk on the phone at a table full of people, not to mention that I assumed this would be a private conversation.

Everyone at that table knows who I’m talking to right now. It’s not like I’m hiding it.”

“Oh so there are more people?”

“No, that’s not what I said.” Why was it so hard to get my words out? He always twists them to make it sound worse than it is. “It’s just the four of us: me, Katie, Theo, and Theo’s friend Cal.”

“Tell me more about Cal.”

Shit, how did he zero in on that.

“I don’t really know him. I’ve only met him once before, in passing at a club.” That’s basically the truth. “He’s one of Theo and Katie’s friends from prep school.” I sound exhausted even to my own ears.

“Whatever, Lila. If you’re going to cheat on me, can you just be honest about it?”

Jesus Christ, not this again. Six months after he moved to New York, the cheating accusations started, and every time I think we’ve moved past them, there’s someone new that he’s worried about.

My circle has gotten smaller and smaller over the years as I remove people Dennis didn’t like or saw as a threat.

My eyes sting, even as I try to level my voice.

“I’ve never cheated on you, Dennis, I swear. Nothing’s ever happened between me and anyone else. But we broke up on Thursday, so whoever?—"

He cuts me off before I can get the words out. “Just your slutty dancing.”

“You’ve been to the club too. I don’t hold it against you that you might dance with your friends.”

There’s silence and for a brief moment, I think I’ve won, even if it’s only the battle of today.

“So, they’re your friends now?”

I cringe. “You know what I mean, they’re not just random strangers.” Cal’s thigh between mine flashes in my mind, and I shut down the very un-friendly feelings that course through me.

“At least when I go out, I don’t dress like a twenty-one-year-old whore in clothes I’m busting out of just to get attention.

You’d think the attention from your boyfriend would be enough, but no.

You have to have strangers panting over you in public, as if they’re not just staring in disgust at a grown woman pretending to be in college still.

” The words land, blow after blow raining down on me as I stand rooted to the pavement.

That’s his big card to play, and it hits every time.

“You don’t mean that.” The spot behind my eyes starts to sting, and I try to keep the shakiness out of my voice.

“Whatever you say, Lila.” I hate how he says my name like that. The emphasis on the ‘la’ like I’m some dumb girl with a fake valley accent. “And here I was thinking we’d get back together and could finally be happy.” He sighs, like he’s actually upset that we’re not a perfect happy couple.

“You broke up with me, remember?” I feel like I’m caught in some never-ending time loop.

It’s Dennis and Lila, it’s always been Dennis and Lila, but it’s never ‘look how happy they are.’ He’s called it off at least six times over the last couple years, and I always take him back.

I don’t even know why really, only that I do, and, in a way, I can’t imagine a life with someone else.

What we have is at least consistent. He loves me in his own way, even if Katie and our other friends don't see it. He wasn’t always this way.

He used to be sweet and caring and take me on fancy dates and make me laugh.

One day, I’ll get that person back. We just need to get through the rough patch.

“Why would I break up with you? I just was stressed out at work and needed some space. Of course, I don’t want to break up with you, baby.

I’m sorry I just love you so much, the idea of someone taking advantage of you like that makes me crazy.

Theo’s always given me a bad vibe, you know that.

I can’t imagine his friends are any better. ” He says the last line with a scoff.

“Nothing happened with Cal. Why can’t you ever just believe me?” I ask, the tears finally spilling over as my voice breaks. “It’s so exhausting fighting like this, and I love you. You know I love you. I wouldn’t cheat on you, okay? Why do you have to do this?”

“Do you really love me?”

“Yes!” I scream, causing several people walking by to stare at me in alarm.

“That’s all that matters. I won’t let anyone rip us apart, Lila.” I wish that my heart fluttered at the declaration instead of the lead weight dropping into my stomach. “I have to go. We’ll talk soon.”

Click.

I stare at the phone screen. He hung up. Are you fucking kidding me? I look back at the bar, the crowd of people cheering and know I can’t go back.

I open my Uber app and set my pickup location. Three minutes away, thank God.

A hand brushes my shoulder. “Hey, you okay?”

I whirl around, finding Cal standing there, his arm still outstretched.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“Wow, thanks.” I deadpan, trying to force some levity into the situation. How much had he heard?

One minute away.

“Seriously, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just needed to deal with something, and I didn’t realize how tired I was, so I’m just gonna go home. I already know I won anyway, so really there’s no point in staying.” I try to grin at him, but my mouth doesn’t work properly.

“You’re not going to say bye to Katie?”

“I can text her, or since you’re here, you can tell her I went home. She knows where to find me.”

I realize with a start he also knows where to find me.

“You weren’t going to say goodbye to me?”

“Goodbye.” I can’t quite meet his burning gaze.

I see my car and wave.

“There is a point.”

“What?”

He clears his throat, staring at his high-end Nike sneakers. “There is a point.”

“A point to what?”

“Staying for the rest of the game.” He looks up, and I can feel the intensity in his eyes boring a hole into the side of my head.

“Oh, yeah?” The car pulls up, and I open the door, meeting his gaze finally. His silver eyes are like molten steel, nearly melting my own resolve.

“I thought we were having fun.”

I give him a sad smile. “We were.”

I slide into the seat and shut the door behind me, refusing to look back up at him.

I make it halfway down the block before I start crying again.

The second I walk in the door, I turn my phone off.

There’s not a single person I want to talk to right now, and I know Dennis won’t actually speak to me for at least twenty-four hours.

I eye the open bottle of wine on my counter and grab my emotional support water bottle instead.

This thing has been through hell and back and honestly seen more shit than a Lollapalooza port-a-potty, so it can get me through tonight.

I’m slightly dazed as I sink into my large sectional and turn on the TV, flipping to an old season of Love Island on autopilot and settling back against the throw pillows.

Nothing can make you feel better about your own love life than hot twenty-year-olds dancing around in bikinis and talking shit about the washboard abs they have as partners for days on end, and I firmly believe that.

A door slamming down the hallway startles me awake, and the show is now four episodes ahead from where I left it. I glance out the windows and see the inky blackness oozing around my building, interrupted by the skyscrapers lit up against the night in varying colors.

I glance at my phone, finding only a black screen, and then switch it on.

It starts to buzz.

And buzz.

And buzz.

I drop it on the couch, getting up to wash my face of the salt tracks left behind from my earlier sobbing.

At least I had sucked down enough water before my nap to keep the swelling of my cheeks to a minimum.

I pop a melatonin because, at this point, I might as well just go back to bed. It’s already nearly one in the morning.

I walk back to the living room to check my thankfully now silent phone and scroll through dozens of notifications.

My eyes catch on one from the front desk to my building. A delivery, around 11 p.m. I frown, trying to think if I’d ordered takeout before I passed out.

I throw on an old hoodie and my Uggs and go check it out, knowing I’ll just think about it all night otherwise.

I step out of the elevator and see Maureen’s braided head peeking out from behind the tall front counter.

“Hey, Maureen.”

“Miss Lila, these came for you!” the older woman says, pointing toward a large vase full of pink and white roses clustered around three bright sunflowers.

I blink in shock.

“I think you have the wrong person. There’s no way those are for me.” Never once in all our years together had Dennis ever sent me flowers like this. He must feel absolutely horrible about earlier. I hadn’t bothered to read the three messages waiting from him before I came downstairs.

It’ s impressive honestly, to have gotten them here this quickly after our fight. And they are beautiful.

“I checked the card, they’re definitely for you—Lila Summers.”

“There’s a card?”

“Well, of course, how else is your beau supposed to court you?” she asks with a wink.

“It’s not really courting if they’re apology flowers and we’ve been together for a few years now.”

“Wells if my husband looked like that, I wouldn’t be working the night shift, I’ll tell you that much.”

I start. “What do you mean? You saw him? Not just a delivery man?”

“Oh no, honey, he wanted to deliver them personally, but your phone went straight to voicemail, so he left them here for you.”

My mind is whirling. How did Dennis get here so quickly? Common sense says he didn’t. That the flowers are from someone else.

“What did he look like?” I ask cautiously, even as I take a step toward the flowers, reaching for the card I see sticking out of the top.

“Oh, girl, in a word? Gorgeous.” She laughs. “Tall, so tall my neck got tired just from looking at him, and blond hair most girls would kill for, but his eyes, Lord his eyes. I thought they’d just about swallow me up.”

My hands are shaking as I pull the card off the bouquet, seeing my name, Lila Summers scrawled in an elegant hand across the front. I turn it over and my breath catches.

Lila,

You deserve to be happy.

Cal

My eyes are burning once more as I scan the note a second time.

“Well?” asks Maureen.

“Well, what?”

“Are you going to forgive him?”

I can’t help but smile. “He never needed to be forgiven.”