Chapter 5
Ryan
I ’d talked to a lot of people in a lot of bad situations, and one thing that united everyone was trying to find some ways to make sense of it, trying to find order in the chaos. Just the way of life, all part of God’s plan, a cosmic test —everyone had their own way to process it, in anything from earthquakes and wildfires to illness, domestic abuse, government failures, everything in between.
Comparing my situation to all of that felt crass—a ratty-ass man cheating on me and losing his shit on me when I confronted him and telling me I never deserved him anyway, it felt like something from a trashy soap opera at most, not a life-changing crisis. But one thing people always talked about in trying to make sense of it all was this idea that there was always light in the darkness, that there was always some blessing hidden in it all, even if it was a small consolation compared to the loss.
Someone losing their house in a wildfire bonds with the rest of their community in the rebuilding effort. Someone who loses a parent to illness remembers how important family is and renews their connections with their adult children.
Me, I got a damn good pizza. And honestly, between pizza and men, I’d take pizza. I think I was winning out.
Brooklyn’s house was a cute, cozy place—not in the way my aunt would use that to politely call a house small, but in that the cabana style and the wild gardens around the house gave it this feeling like a magical place tucked away from the rest of the world, and as I sat hunched into myself in one corner of the couch watching Brooklyn tend to a couple of small pizzas in a brick oven, I felt a little bit like I’d been whisked away to another world. A world where Shane didn’t exist and where I didn’t have to confront my family over the whole thing.
Damn, but I wished I could cry. I felt it hanging on the edges of my awareness like needing to sneeze but it just wouldn’t come—my body needed to cry, but tears wouldn’t come, and it left me frustrated and unfulfilled as Brooklyn set down a pizza peel in front of me, two perfect pizzas on the table.
“Give them a minute,” she said. “They’ll burn your tongue out of your mouth. Do you want something to drink? I’ve got alcoholic and nonalcoholic options depending on how you’re trying to deal with the situation. Or just water.”
“I don’t drink alcohol when I’m sad. Personal policy.”
“Smart one. Ginger beer?”
I nodded, knowing I should have used my words like a grownup but—but frankly, I didn’t really want to be a grownup right now.
When Brooklyn brought back a couple of mugs with ice-cold drinks, I cupped mine close to my chest with a quiet thank you , and she gave me the space to sit there processing for a while, before she leaned forward to pick up the pizza cutter and get started on the pizzas, talking absently as she did.
“So, you’re going to have to let me know how best to host you,” she said lightly. “If you want to talk shit about him, I’ll agree with everything you say. If you want to talk about something different, I’m an expert at filling dead air. And if you want some peace and quiet, I’ll figure out how to keep my mouth shut.”
“Was I supposed to do something different?” I said quietly, not even realizing I’d said it, but she took it gracefully, turning to me in the low glow of the firelight, offering me the pizza slices with a sympathetic smile.
“If you’d done things differently, maybe he wouldn’t have cheated—I can’t say I know the counterfactual—but nothing would have changed who he was at the core. At best, you’d have had a relationship with a restrained cheater.”
“How did I not know earlier?” I shook my head. “He was always off with someone else. For work, of course. Even when we traveled…”
Her nose twitched, a frustrated look almost like a pout passing over her features. Honestly, it was more… cute than I’d expected from her. “What a dick.”
I shrugged. She sighed.
“You didn’t know earlier because you trusted him. Nothing wrong with that. Relationships are built on trust. It’s on him for violating that.”
“It can’t be everything on him. You say that about everything.”
She smiled a little, a glint in her eyes. “I can, and I will. He cheated. He’s a dick.”
It shouldn’t have been this satisfying to hear that… I was mature enough to know that conflict was a two-way street and that there was always another side to any given issue. That surrounding yourself with a bunch of people who think the same person is shitty was just self-satisfaction and burying your head in the sand.
Still, felt nice to shit-talk him together with her. Maybe I’d already moved past denial and into anger. That’d be nice for me. Even so, I tried to be better, hugging myself. “He wasn’t satisfied. That’s on me. I never gave him enough attention—I’m not a very affectionate person, I guess—we almost never had sex. I guess it makes sense he’d go get it from someone else. Just… that wasn’t the way to do it.”
She put a hand on my arm, a soft touch—just a brush of her fingertips at first, scoping out the reaction, seeking permission, and when I didn’t pull away, she settled her hand on me more solidly, reassuring. “It’s not your fault, Ryan,” she said quietly. “If he was upset about the lack of sex, he could have talked about it. Or broken up with you to be with someone else. If he didn’t like the way you show affection, he could have done something about it. It’s never about you. Trust me—I’ve talked to a million people freshly after getting cheated on. People all react this way—it’s normal—but it’s never their fault.”
I laughed, a sudden sound pulling itself up from me as a smile played on my lips. “I guess working at a resort bar, you see the wildest parts of human behavior…”
She smiled wider. She had such a good smile… the way her canines flashed a little, how she smiled wide enough it strained the corners of her lips into little rounds, it was the kind of smile that radiated genuine cheer and affection, making you feel like she just liked you— like as a verb, as an action, as something she consciously and actively did. It was kind of infectious, and I smiled with her as she said, “You don’t know the half of it. The stories I could tell you.”
“Maybe I feel better knowing my whole deal is probably pretty pedestrian…”
“If you like, I could talk about the guy whose girlfriend cheated on him with both of his brothers in one week.”
I blinked twice. “Oh my god. I thought I dealt with trauma in my work. How did he even find out?”
She grinned. “He checked her phone…”
I wrinkled my nose. “She was getting risqué with them in text?”
“Worse. She took videos.”
“Oh, god. With each of them?”
“He said he would never be able to look either brother in the eye again. That was a year ago now, and I sincerely hope he’s held to that conviction.”
“Can you imagine? I’m going to retch.”
She pushed the food my way again. “Well, better not do it on an empty stomach. C’mon, eat up. Perfect temperature now.”
“After you’ve gotten me on the thought of watching my girlfriend have sex with my siblings… like you’re trying to make me lose my appetite.” I took a bite of the pizza, which smelled heavenly, and found it to taste every bit as good—perfect bite to the crust, a rich sauce with the warmth of good, fresh oregano. The woman took her pizza seriously, and I wasn’t taking it for granted, even though I lost it a little when she said,
“Don’t tell me you’ve had a girlfriend cheat on you too.”
“No—” I fumbled the pizza a little bit, setting it back on the board and covering my mouth as I swallowed. “No, thank god. I’d be thinking of her having sex with my siblings right now if so. And of me finding the video. I have a twin, too, it feels worse with a twin.”
“Identical?”
“Couldn’t be less identical. His name’s Oscar. He’s, uh… he’s okay, actually. He took my side in the whole…” I shifted awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling about my life. I’m not jumping straight from the topic of… semi-incestuous cheating to my career change.”
She grinned wider, eyes glinting. “You love the topic of incest enough to want to hold onto it? To each their own, I guess.”
“You’re lucky I’m grateful for the pizza, Miss Sterling.”
“I am curious about your career, too,” she laughed, relaxing back in her seat, kicking one boot up on the edge of the table. Chunky Doc Martens, of course. Her whole look, her style, said at least a little queer, and she owned it comfortably—had been perfectly casual asking about a girlfriend in my past, like the only remarkable thing about it was if she’d cheated on me too. When I thought about it, I was pretty sure I’d made a comment about her hitting on me while I was in shock after she’d dropped the bombshell on me about Shane, and she’d just said she wouldn’t hit on a woman who’d just gotten cheated on.
I could hardly imagine that level of relaxedness about it… I didn’t think anyone would really be outright hateful about it if I came out as bisexual, but it just felt like something we didn’t talk about. Thinking about mentioning a girlfriend with work colleagues, it felt… immature, unserious, somehow. Maybe because I’d tried to leave my attraction to women in my high school years.
Also, just the thought of telling Mom I liked girls made me want to shrivel up and die. Then again, we’d see if Mom even liked me anymore after I broke up with Shane and left him with everyone to control the narrative however he liked.
I envied this woman, honestly. Not just for the brick pizza oven and charming little beach home—which helped—but she just radiated authenticity. Maybe it’d rub off on me a little if I talked to her. A girl could hope.
“I’m a journalist,” I said, after a few seconds’ too long a pause. Brooklyn was still patient with me, though—probably knew my brain was scrambled eggs at the moment. “Well—that’s a lofty term. More aspirational than anything else. I’m a freelance writer, run an online newsletter that makes most of my money from subscribers, and I get contracted for guest articles… it’s all a bit piecemeal, but I put it together one way or another. I got my degree in journalism and media, but I’d been working a sleek corporate job in the social media field, and I’d started writing on the side, built it out a little bit while I was working, and one day I just decided to go for it. You know—chase my dreams.”
She held her drink up for a toast. “Here’s to that,” she said. “I worked in the corporate world for six months before I told my boss to eat a bag of dicks and went back to bartending. I’m a lot happier making less money and doing something I like more.”
I clinked my drink against hers. “Maybe you can try telling my family,” I said with a dry laugh. “They acted like I’d decided to run away and join the circus. Most of them still haven’t forgiven me. Especially since Shane works in the same industry and they like him better than me, and now that I dumped him, they’ll act like I just destroyed it all specifically to make them sad on purpose.” I sighed, hard, hunching over the food. “I’m sorry, I’m just dumping everything on you.”
“Letting it out is healthy. Sounds like a lot of your family sucks.”
“They don’t suck, they… they’re perfectly lovely. They just want what’s best for me, and we disagree on what’s best.”
She raised her eyebrow. “A boyfriend who cheats on you and a job you hate?”
I laughed, sudden and spontaneous, surprising myself. “That’s a harsh way to put it,” I said lightly. “But I guess it’s not wrong.”
“Oscar took your side in it, though?”
“Yeah. He and I have always been close. You know, twins—you end up inseparable a lot of the time, even when you hate each other. We never really had the hating each other phase, though… just the codependent one,” I laughed. “He’s a little awkward at times and doesn’t do emotional support, vulnerability, all of that, but it’s that kind of thing where you know he’s there for you even if he doesn’t say it.”
“It is good to have someone who says it, too, though.”
“Well, I guess I’ve got you,” I said, even though that felt a little premature—weirdly placing her into the role of looking after me, even though I should have been a fully capable adult myself—but she grinned, taking another piece of pizza.
“And Allison, for better or worse.”
“I’m still not convinced you two like each other.”
“Ah, love her. Little lesbian I’ve taken under my wing so I can make fun of her for not knowing how to talk to girls.”
I had a nervous quiver that, for some reason, I pushed through to say, pretending to be casual about it, “Do you just go around trying to adopt all the… non-straight women you can and guard them?”
“Oh, for sure. I’ve taken an oath to the patron saint Sappho to protect her fledglings,” she said, flexing an arm. Casual and relaxed about it. Did she understand that was me trying to awkwardly tell her I wasn’t straight too? And why was I even trying to, anyway?
Guess it wasn’t that surprising… I envied Brooklyn’s fearless authenticity, and here was something I didn’t know how to own with literally anybody else. Plus, she was clearly okay with it. No better place to practice and see if I could own it.
“Well, her fledglings appreciate it,” I laughed, feeling my cheeks prickle a little as I helped myself to another slice of pizza, playing it off like I was casual about it. “I really am grateful, you know. I owe you a favor I don’t know how to repay.”
She winked at me. “Go rock-climbing with me.”
“I—what? Right now?”
“Maybe not right now,” she laughed. “I do it regularly at the local gym, but literally all the other regulars are straight guys and not all of them shower regularly, so I’m always literally begging any woman to accompany me and make me not the only woman in the room. Bonus points if it’s another queer girl, but Allison hates it with every fiber of her being. I’ve already bullied her into it twice and I just scored a promise for her to try a third time, but I feel like she’ll hate it again.”
I laughed awkwardly. “I’m going to be terrible at it, you know. I have zero upper-body strength.”
“I’ll teach you. Girls love a girl who does rock-climbing.”
Okay—she’d gotten the memo. I didn’t know why I was so embarrassed and shy about this, but that was probably a sign it was something I needed to work on and I was moving in the right direction. “That’s the way to deal with getting cheated on, then?” I laughed, focusing on the food so she wouldn’t see me blush. “Get some thick biceps and get a bunch of girls all over me?”
“Not the worst approach,” she laughed. “So? What do you say? I won’t be mad if you say no, but I will be happy if you say yes.”
“Ah… sure. My family’s got an itinerary for our time here, but I’m sure they won’t mind me slipping in an extracurricular or two. Especially now that I’m not sure how much room there even is in the itinerary for me.”
She winked at me, a glint in her eyes. “Forget them. Allison and I will be your tour guides, and if they try pushing you away, all that means is that you get the better experience than they do.”
I laughed, a knot untangling in my chest. “Then I look forward to embarrassing myself at the gym.”
She grinned, and honestly, for everything, it was such a nice thing to just be able to light her up that way—to give her something that made her happy after she’d done so much for me. I’d turn myself into a regular gym rat to thank her for this.
After all—it was a damn good pizza.