Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
WAYLON
The one upside to work being slammed is that I barely have time to think about Bianca. I still do, of course, but I need to focus most of the time.
Shit gets darker whenever I go home. There’s only so much working out and organizing and studying I can do. I’ve slept like shit since then because my thoughts keep spinning until I just pass out.
Today has been a little slower, with routine appointments and treatments all day. It’s given me more time to think than I’d like. But my last two appointments seem more involved than the ones I’ve had all day without the issues the pets are facing being life-threatening. At least there’s that to look forward to.
“Your last two appointments rescheduled,” Marisol says about fifteen minutes before my second to last appointment.
“Oh.” Great. I run my hands through my hair and check my watch. I don’t want to spend even more time at home. “I can stay until close for emergency walk-ins, if you need me to.”
“Okay, sure.” Marisol shrugs and doesn’t ask anymore questions.
I work on my paperwork and prepare for tomorrow, snagging one of the rescue kittens to cuddle while I do. I’m just twenty minutes away from wrapping up when Marisol pops her head into the back.
“Dr. Stryker, we have a last minute appointment,” she says, glancing between me and the lobby down the hall. “It’s Catherine and Buttons.”
I blow out a breath. I usually don’t handle Buttons, Catherine’s mixed breed dog, because of our history, but I’m the only vet left here for the day. I hate being around her but I’d never refuse any animal that needed help.
“I’ll be there in a second.” I stand up and put the foster kitten back.
Catherine is sitting in the lobby, Buttons on her lap. Her hair is in the messy bun it’s always in when she’s stressed, plus leggings and a t-shirt. I have no idea what’s going on in her life aside from whatever’s going on with Buttons, but she’s not as put together as she usually is.
“Hey,” I say. Her eyes snap up to mine. “What’s going on with Buttons?”
“Dr. Healey saw him the other week for this rash he has and it looks like it’s getting worse,” she says putting Buttons down.
She got Buttons toward the end of when we were dating, so Buttons knows me. He wags his tail and sniffs my leg before I guide us into one of the exam rooms. I shut the door behind us and sit down on the floor. Buttons isn’t big enough to be considered a big dog, but he’s not small either. His black and white fur looks healthy and fluffy, aside from one spot near his back left leg.
I check over his rash and she fills me in on what Dr. Healey said. Buttons tries to climb in my lap to cuddle and a pang rings in my chest. We agreed that he was Catherine’s dog when she adopted him, but I always assumed he’d be ours. Splitting up and not having him was another punch to the gut on top of everything else.
“We’ll try some anti-fungals next,” I say. “And if that doesn’t work, come back to the office and we can try a different approach.”
Buttons turns in a circle on my lap, nearly stepping on my balls, and flops down, completely content. The rush of memories is like being hit by a train. I thought we were in the happiest days of our relationship when we first adopted him — I thought we’d healed from the first time she cheated, but she was out there hooking up with other guys.
“Is it a pill? You know he doesn’t like pills,” she says, eyeing her dog on my lap.
“It’s a shampoo. Give him a bath weekly with it, and apply a soothing cream. We’ll get you both of them,” I say, trying to ignore her you should have known that tone. Other people — particularly Jada — picked up on it when we were together, but I missed it. Now it’s so damn obvious that I can’t believe I didn’t notice it until someone pointed it out. What was my problem?
“Okay.” She gets up and picks Buttons off my lap. Snatches, almost.
“I’ll go write his prescriptions. They should be ready to pick up by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Fine.”
No thank you, apparently. Not that I’m surprised. She lost her polite sparkle once we broke up, almost as if she’d been this way all along. I hold in a sigh so I don’t start anything with her and get out of the room as soon as possible to write Buttons’ prescriptions.
Someday I won’t feel completely thrown off by having a normal interaction with her, but today isn’t that day.
It’s not that I’m wrestling with lingering feelings of betrayal — I’ve accepted the fact that she was two-faced for our second shot at a relationship. I just can’t get past the fact that I thought I knew her so well but I was so fucking wrong. Her condescending attitude, her judgment of shit that really isn’t all that weird. Now it all looks obvious. Though maybe she just got a whole lot worse the more time went on.
I can’t believe I was so blinded by love. Or by the person I assume she was.
I wrap up the day, still playing irritating memories on loop that make my brain ache like a bruise. Jeremiah’s text asking if I want to get drinks comes at just the right time — I need to decompress.
I head home, shower, then take Duke to the bar. Jeremiah and Jada are in the back at our normal table. The look Jada is giving me has some venom in it, so I’m assuming Bianca told her that we “broke up”. Or maybe Bianca even told her everything about this fake relationship and she hates me for lying.
“The only reason why I’m not going to rip you in half is because you were my friend first,” Jada says. “But it sounds like you really fucked with Bianca’s heart, so I’m still kind of pissed at you.”
I sigh and slide onto a stool. “I understand.”
“So? Explain,” Jada says.
“Let the man breathe and get a drink.” Jeremiah pushes an empty glass and the pitcher toward me. Usually we do the pitcher because it’s cheaper, but I almost want something a little stronger.
I pour myself a drink and down half of it. I’m tired of lying — I lied to Mom and it’s hurt our relationship. I don’t want my best friends finding out the same way Mom did.
“There’s more to Bianca and I’s relationship than I told you both,” I say.
I tell them everything — from our awkward first meeting in person, to the fake date that spiraled into our arrangement, to what happened at the wedding. They listen intently, eyebrows going up higher and higher.
“That’s fucking crazy, man,” Jeremiah says.
“Which part?” I ask.
“The whole thing. Especially the fact that you let a woman go who you have feelings for and vice versa because of fucking Catherine.” He leans back, drumming his fingers on the table. “You know she was the worst. Bianca is very clearly not the worst. So what are you doing?”
“For real. And Bianca seemed really torn up about it, by the way,” Jada says. “Or at least over text.”
“Have you seen her in person?” I ask. I know I hurt her, but the thought of her being alone and hurt is even worse.
“No. I’m not going to crowd her unless she asks for company.”
I rest my elbows on the table and run my hands down my face. Duke lifts his head and rests it on my foot.
“But again, what are you even doing?” Jeremiah asks. “I get being gun shy, but there’s a difference between gun shy and completely illogical.”
I bristle. “I’m not completely illogical.”
“You kind of are.” Jeremiah sits back in his seat. “Bianca’s not Catherine. We knew Catherine, and to be honest, she always had her issues way back in college.”
“But you guys didn’t say anything when I took her back?” I pour myself another drink, then a glass of water.
“We did, dumb-dumb,” Jada says. Jeremiah shoots her a look ”Sorry for being harsh, but we did. As gently as possible because you were making heart eyes at each other for some reason. We didn’t want to shit all over your parade, especially since you knew her better than we ever did.”
I blow a breath out of my nose. I was a little too into her — Catherine was smart, funny, and charming a lot of the time. And we were seen as similar by everyone else. The overachievers who “did everything right”.
God, I was so stupid.
“Seriously, just think about it since we’re here to keep you on track,” Jeremiah says, leveling me with a look that’s more serious than I’ve ever seen him. “Think about the last time you saw Catherine. I know things are tainted because hindsight is 20/20, but just do it. Is she anything like Bianca whatsoever?”
“I saw her today,” I say. “And…she was pretty fucking terrible. She wasn’t that bad when we dated, but to be honest, I saw little glimpses of those traits today when we dated. And I’ve been pissed off at myself ever since.”
Now the constant churn of memories from earlier starts to shift. Catherine isn’t a great person, especially not for me. But just because she was doesn’t mean that I have to beat myself up over it. I can just take what I learned and fully move on.
“Don’t be pissed at yourself for how you felt in the past,” Jeremiah says. “That’s some bullshit. Because your feelings were involved and you made some mistakes. We all fuck up. But what’s even more messed up is letting all the bad thoughts you’ve had about how things went with Catherine keep you from something good.”
“Seriously. And based on the way you and Bianca are together, there’s a lot of good there,” Jada adds.
I hear what they’re saying, but being able to shut off those old thoughts isn’t as easy as hearing and agreeing with a good argument.
But the more I let it sink in, the more what they’ve said makes sense. Being with Bianca always feels easy — I don’t have to live up to absurd expectations. I just have to be myself. I never felt like that with a romantic partner. It was a feeling I assumed I had to go to my friends for. But I can have that feeling with the person I love.
Except I’ve clearly hurt Bianca and I have no idea how to fix things. She’s been rejected and fucked over by too many people in her life to easily forgive — not that I deserve her forgiveness just because I’m falling for her. But I want it more than anything.