What’s in the Box?
WHAT’S IN THE BOX?
RACHEL
The most frustrating thing about my breakup with Andrew was the break that happened within myself. If I had been attracted to someone like that, how could I trust my romantic choices in the future?
Andrew Wentz started at Horizon High School our senior year when his family moved from the Bronx to the Grand Canyon State. He was shy, a loner, and back then he let his curly hair grow long and wild. The Sicilian kid with a laugh that filled the room caught my eye almost immediately. There was something about his dark and brooding eyes that drew me in every time I looked at him.
When he transferred to ASU my junior year, I fell for him, because my twenty-something self didn’t know better. He was adventurous, charming, and when we first started dating, he made me feel like I was the only person in the room. In the beginning, being with him was exhilarating, but when the chase ended, the real Andrew emerged, and I was his boring girlfriend.
Soon, I found myself not in a relationship, but in a competition. Competing with other girls for his affection, with his work for his time, and with his family for their approval. He went to law school by day and tended bar by night. Of course, the girls loved his charm, and he soaked up the attention like a sponge over spilled milk. Once Andrew graduated, his expectations of me changed. I needed to look and sound like I belonged with him. So, I changed what I liked and what I wore, thinking maybe if I changed everything about myself, Andrew would finally think I was good enough.
And that’s the thing.
That’s it.
The scariest thing about starting a new relationship isn’t about the act of falling in love with someone new, it’s about trusting that I will not make the same mistakes. It’s about my current self letting go of the past and ceasing to be so angry with that twenty-year-old who let a man treat her like that.
When I caught Andrew sleeping with Celeste, that should have been the end. But I let him talk his way back into my life. After it was finally over, I wondered, did he change over time, or had he always been an ass and I was too lovesick to see him for who he really was? And so, there’s this constant battle with myself of wishing I could find the love of my life and at the same time being totally freaked by what happens when I do.
Since seeing Andrew at my store brought all this rushing back to me, brunch with Laura and Emily would be the perfect distraction. We met at Butters Breakfast Bar, where the bottomless mimosas were as divine as their chicken and waffles. I breezed through the door, running late due to a delayed Uber, and the girls immediately stood to embrace me. My eyes swept across the table and zeroed in on the pretty pink boxes sitting in front of Emily’s and my spots.
I stood gaping at mine. I didn’t need to open it. I knew exactly what it was.
“Oh my gah, Laura,” I said, throwing my arms back around her. “When did it happen?”
“What are you talking about? I haven’t said anything.”
“I know what’s in that box,” I said, easing into my seat. When I attempted to open it, Laura slapped my hand away.
“Not yet, dummy.”
Emily was beaming. “She wants to formally announce it.”
Thankfully, a mimosa was already waiting for me so we could clink glasses and wait for Laura to tell us that Foster had proposed.
“Seriously, when and where and how?” I asked.
Laura cringed. “Last Friday night.”
“That’s over a week ago,” I said. “How did you sit on this information?”
“I was so close to telling you when you came over the other night, but you were distraught and needing my shoulder to cry on. I didn’t want to take away from what you needed.”
I frowned. “Laura! You should have. This is absolutely way more important than my problems.”
“Definitely,” Emily said, winking. “Okay, can we open the box now?”
“Wait!” Laura shouted, extending her arms. “So having to decide between the two of you for maid of honor was destroying my soul, so we are letting fate decide.” Laura stood and switched the boxes a few times so that we lost track of which one we started with. “Okay, open them, and whoever has the maid of honor token wins.”
“It’s mine,” I said with a wry smile toward Emily.
“Not a chance,” she said.
Emily squealed when she peeked into her box, and my heart swelled with happiness. I knew Emily would’ve been secretly sad if she couldn’t do this for Laura.
“Congratulations, Em,” I said. “And so happy for you, Laura. Really, I’m over the moon.”
“Thank you. Foster can’t keep a secret so I knew he was up to something. But he planned a wonderful dinner and then we went to the place we met.”
Emily recoiled. “Ewww, that awful dive bar?”
“Hey, be nice. I love that little place!” Laura said.
“So how did he do it?” Emily and I asked in unison.
“He took the stage to sing our song during karaoke?—”
I leaned toward her. “Wait, what’s your song?”
“Wannabe’ by the Spice Girls.”
“No, it’s not,” I said.
“Of all the songs in the world, really?” Emily asked.
“Hey! No judgments! Anyway, he stops singing the lyrics and says, ‘Do you wanna be my wife?’”
Emily laughed and touched her chest. “I’m flatlining. I can’t take this.”
“He gets down on one knee, I say yes, the entire bar cheers, Doug the owner buys a round of drinks. Boom.”
I brought my hands to my temples. “This is too much. It’s the most perfect proposal in every way.”
“Let’s see the ring!” Emily said.
Laura extended her hand proudly showing her one-carat princess cut diamond in a traditional prong setting.
Emily held Laura’s hand. “It’s stunning, did he pick it out?”
“Yep. Can you believe it?”
“I can,” Emily said. “It’s like you two are already married.”
I finally glanced at my menu. “Yeah, you two … from day one. We knew there was no one else for either of you.”
Laura beamed.
We all calmed down enough to order brunch and another round of mimosas. Laura shared with us that the wedding would be bathed in Greek traditions and be held on November 4, 2024, at The Phoenician, time TBA. I was ready to swear off all weddings, but this one I couldn’t wait for. Sarah would round out our bridesmaid party since Laura was an only child and would get her box when she came back from her honeymoon.
“Wow, it’s April now, though. That’s not much time to plan,” Emily mentioned.
Laura shrugged. “The Phoenician had a cancellation and if we didn’t take it, we would have had to wait until the end of ’25. Besides, I’ve got an army of planners. We’ll make it work. Foss and I love each other so the rest doesn’t matter, am I right?”
“Totally,” Emily said.
“Who are the groomsmen?” I asked, slightly afraid of the answer.
“Matt, Zach, and of course, Cam.” Laura grinned wildly.
I deflated. “Oh no.”
“Foster is close to Cam, or I might be using my wedding as an opportunity to make sure you two get together.”
“This will ruin my plan of never seeing him again.”
Emily rolled her eyes. “You keep telling yourself that—because every time you do, that’s when it seems like you run into him.”
Thankfully my next mimosa arrived at that very moment. I needed more liquid courage to explain my recon mission of Cam’s bakery.
“He owns a bakery?” Emily asked. “So he’s that attractive and owns a bakery? How is he single?”
“He won’t be for long,” Laura said, winking at me.
I tilted my head. “Please.”
We boxed up our leftovers and hugged goodbye. I headed home and decided to purge some anxiety about returning to work tomorrow by cleaning my entire house. Returning to the store I relished, returning to my mother’s scowl, I did not. Once I showered and crawled into bed for the night, my thoughts drifted to Cam. Thinking of him was a pleasant escape, and I pulled out my phone, my fingers typing and deleting messages one after another. Eventually, I put my phone back on the nightstand and tried not to dream of him as I closed my eyes.