Page 74 of Threads That Bind Us
“You weren’t going to tell me about this little update?” she asks, her voice still teasing.
I raise my eyebrows at her, incredulous.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I reply, trying to organize my thoughts.
There’s no way she can know that this is a relatively recent development. Charlie and I live together. She had to assume we were sleeping together.
“Look, I’ve been very respectful and understanding of whatever arrangement you’ve got going on, but now that you’re getting laid, I’m exercising my rights as your best friend to be privy to all details, thank you,” she demands, looping her arm through mine and dragging me toward the bar.
“I don’t understand,” I admit, half a step behind her.
She yanks me forward and I have to jog to avoid falling.
“You think I don’t know when my best friend is or is not getting it?” she scoffs, obviously offended. “When you and Natalie were hooking up in the walk-in, you used to send me actual paragraphs describing your orgasms. There’s no way you wouldn’t have given me bare minimum details if you and Charlie were sleeping together. Plus, the only times I’ve seen you together, you avoided touching like you were allergic to each other.”
I yank her to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk, gawking at her.
“You knew I wasn’t sleeping with Charlie and you didn’t say anything? Didn’t you think that was odd?” I should deny it, telling her Charlie and I have been head over heels for each other from the start. But the pressure of keeping this tomyself has been overwhelming, and denial seems impossible anyway.
“I assumed you had your reasons.” She shrugs, acting like this truly is no big deal. “Not every relationship is about love or lust or whatever.”
I bristle at her words, immediately shrugging out of her grasp and crossing my arms.
“It’s not like that,” I start, but Kenzie interjects before I can get worked up.
“Look, I know you’ve got a complex about your mom and her endless parade of shitty, rich boyfriends. But I think you’re letting the pain she caused turn you into kind of a judgmental bitch about this, if I’m being honest,” she huffs, glaring at me in a way I’ve never seen from her before. “The reasons people choose their partners are none of our business. If someone wants to be with someone for their money, or sex, or because they’re soulmates written in the stars, that’s completely up to them. There’s nothingwrongwith that, as long as no one is hurting each other. And yeah, your mom sucked because she let her choices affect you and Ana, and prioritized her partners over her children, but the choices themselves are not the problem here. And you’re doing this gross thing where lying to yourself and to me just so you don’t have to admit that maybe therearegood reasons to make these kinds of decisions. So, you know, you should stop doing that.”
Kenzie is out of breath, the anger fading from her expression, replaced by a slightly embarrassed grimace. We’re both quiet for a bit, standing on opposite ends of the sidewalk, avoiding each other’s gaze.
“You’ve been wanting to say that for a while now,” I guess. My chest is tight with shame.
“Not to dig in, but it’s been bordering on slut shaming. AndI know Isabelle’s a massive bitch, but it feels like you’re using this mentality to punish yourself, too.”
I wrap my arms tighter around myself, trying to fight the nausea settling in my stomach. Maybe Kenzie’s right. Maybe I was so mad at Isabelle for abandoning us, I villainized everything about her, even parts that probably didn’t deserve it.
When I was young, before Ana was born, she used to help me get dressed for school and talk about how, one day, I’d have a million outfits to pick from. That I could have a dress in every color if I wanted it. That we’d drive to the seaside and shop at the stores with pretty pastel colors in the windows whenever we wanted. She had dreams, and at some point, they included me.
Maybe there was a time when she wanted support, too. Things changed, of course. Boyfriends and fiances and husbands with money came and went, and there were never dresses or school supplies or trips for me and Ana. But maybe I took my anger too far.
“Charlie and I had an agreement,” I say under my breath, trying to swallow down this misplaced pride. “I can’t really say a lot about it, but I needed help with Ana’s bills. And he needed someone willing to marry him.”
Kenzie moves to stand directly in front of me and wraps her arms around my shoulders, hugging me tight.
“I would have said yes, too,” she whispers, squeezing me as I slip my arms around her waist. “And not just because he looks like that.”
I burst out a laugh, tears falling involuntarily down my face.
“Itdoeshelp that he looks like that,” I chuckle into her shoulder, blinking back more tears. She unwinds herself from me and pulls me up the street again.
“I’m sure it was less fun when you weren’t fucking his brains out.”
I smack her on the shoulder, looking around to make sure no one heard her.
“Jesus, Kenz,” I say, trying to find the good vibes of our earlier conversation again.
“He left a hickey on your ribs, dude. That’s not even a hickey-friendly zone. You guys are having crazy sex, I can tell,” she laughs as we finally spot Catalina’s on the upcoming corner. “You can’t be all that mad at him.”
I don’t answer, mulling over how to approach this as we push the saloon doors open. Catalina’s is nearly empty, which is unsurprising for an early Wednesday afternoon. Some classic rock station plays softly over the speakers, and the decor looks even more odd in the daylight than it did all those months ago. Catalina herself is behind the bar this time, and Kenzie and I belly up right in front of her.