11. Aspyn
ASPYN
T ara returns from her honeymoon the next day, dragging Wendy and Marissa over to Sean’s place, where I’m still living.
I no longer think of it as my own, even though I’ve lived here for eight years.
We all curl up on the couches to watch a slideshow she’d put together of photos and videos from her Caribbean trip.
We sit, drinking Prosecco, giving the standard 'oohs' and 'aahs' over the honeymoon montage.
As I watch, a text comes through from an unknown number that Sean must be using, since I’d blocked his phone from contacting me.
21 days. -Sean
I long to tell him to fuck off, but ignore the text, instead, well aware that it’s been seven full days since our breakup.
Twenty-one more days to move out. I hate that he’s sent me a reminder that this place would be a memory soon, and I’d be settling back into my parents’ house, a half hour farther from my friends, in a couple of weeks.
When the topic shifts to Sean and his baby mama, I squirm uncomfortably on the couch and deny giving a shit.
“He’s moving her in here as soon as you leave,” Tara says, reaching out to squeeze my hand tightly.
“Sorry to be the one to tell you. I told him to lose my number for a while. Can’t help but be so angry with him for the way he treated you and the bullshit he fed Cody about you being infertile.
That’s unforgivable. Have you heard from him? ”
Fresh tears spring to my eyes. I wipe them away furiously, pissed that I have even a single tear left in me to cry over Sean. “Just long enough for him to remind me how many days he’s giving me before he moves Nurse Q in.”
“That makes me so mad—he’s got someone lined up like the last decade meant nothing. I want to kick him in his lying, cheating dick,” Marissa says, crunching a mouthful of popcorn.
“His black eye is pretty epic, though,” Tara tells us with a laugh. “I mean, he deserved it. Mom sent him home as soon as she saw it, after what I heard was quite a lecture. I believe she referred to you, Aspyn, as ‘the best you could possibly do.’ Mama meant business.”
Okay, that makes me feel moderately better. Cecile is usually kind and gentle, so to know she stood up for me to her own son gives me the warm fuzzies.
I let out a gigantic sigh, and Wendy laughs as she looks up from her phone.
“Sean’s already cheating on this Nurse Q.
Jett just accidentally sent me a video on his phone.
He’s at the club with Sean, and he most definitely has his hand up some tramp’s crop top.
” Wendy gawks at the phone with her eyebrows raised so high they nearly hit her hairline.
“Aspyn doesn’t need to see that!” Marissa plucks the phone out of Wendy’s hand, but I grab it out of hers so quickly, I manage to hit play on the video to see it with my own two eyes.
Yep, there he is, cheating on his pregnant girlfriend, which is clear only between the flashes of the strobe lights overhead.
They’re practically getting it on right there on the dance floor, her circling her hips back against Sean’s dark jeans, the expensive pair I got him for his birthday.
“Gross,” I say, but it’s kind of like a train wreck I don’t want to look away from.
It’s only a twenty-second video, but it’s such a good example of the person Sean Wright really is.
Grinding with a random girl who looks about a decade too young for him, while his knocked-up Nurse Q probably sits at home waiting for him, like I had done so many of the past 3,650 days.
Nah. No more.
I hand Wendy back her phone with a smile. “Hey, you know the best part of this?”
Wendy arches a perfectly threaded eyebrow while Tara stares at me, as if wondering how I could possibly answer that particular question.
“It’s not me he’s cheating on.” I press my lips together to keep from laughing, but the edges pull up too hard not to bust out an ear-to-ear grin.
Tara gives me a high five while Wendy bursts into giggles.
I jump up and run to the freezer, where I’m storing one hell of an expensive tequila. Finding champagne flutes, I pour the delicious liquid, and then I cut lime wedges for all of us, set them on a platter, and carefully carry everything back to the coffee table.
“I’ve seen saving this tequila for the right moment, and guess what? This is it.” I hand out the drinks and bring mine up to my nose to take a whiff of it. The color has a beautiful, slightly golden hue, indicating that it was aged for a long time in oak barrels.
“Ahhh, this is the stuff. First, we aerate it by just giving it a gentle swish. Then, we smell.” I demonstrate, and my friends follow along.
We all sniff the tequila, me for the second time. I get notes of citrus and a hint of floral aroma. “Okay, then we should cheer to...” I pause, trying to think.
“Fuckboy exes being long gone?” Wendy suggests.
“Freedom?” Tara adds, raising her glass high.
“Fucking new people!” Marissa sounds too excited.
“Friendship, too.” A smile tugs at my lips as I clink my glass against theirs, and we all call out, “Cheers!”
I take a tentative sip, and the flavor hits me right in the throat. I swirl it around my mouth for a few seconds and swallow, the citrus notes singing in the aftertaste. This is the good shit. I repeat the process until I grab the tequila bottle and pour us another.
“I guess this makes tonight a sleepover,” Marissa decides as she takes the champagne flute and swirls the golden liquid.
“No problem. That’s why we have a sleeper sofa. Well, that’s why I do. Sean will arrive home to no couch at all, just his precious recliner. Oh, and I got high the other day and masturbated all over the expensive suede.” I let out a cackle and add, “Maybe just avoid the chair tonight.”
All my friends tilt their heads back and laugh until we’re all sniffling and tearing up, and we finally steel ourselves so we can enjoy our second glass of tequila.
“To vibrators, our trusty companions,” Marissa announces with a snort, and all four of us clink our glasses to that one and fall into a comfortable silence.
“It just sucks that I can’t hold all his shit against him given that Sean’s my brother. Wish I could give him back, but we’re thirty years too late for that.” Tara groans.
I sense that this is troubling Tara more than she wants to admit.
“Listen, girl. I don’t need you to hate him for me.
I have enough hate for him on my own. You have to give Nurse Q a chance and love this baby regardless of how you feel about Sean’s despicable actions.
He’s not a good guy, but he’s still your family.
I can get away, but you’re stuck. Take a few weeks to give him the cold shoulder and then start putting up with his miserable ass again. That’s all you can do.”
Tara throws her arms around me, nearly tackling me. “Thank you for understanding. I want you in my life forever, but I can’t keep Sean out of mine either.”
“I can,” Marissa decides. “Bear isn’t a big fan of his right now either. I think he’s decidedly Team Aspyn.”
“Cody, too,” Tara admits. “He keeps asking about you, girl.”
“I’m stuck with Sean.” Wendy heaves a sigh. “With Jett being his cousin and all. Yuck. We’ll be family one day.” She spits out “family” like it’s a dirty word, and she wants to use mouthwash after saying it.
“If Jett ever gets off his lazy ass and proposes. You’re twenty-eight now, right, Wendy? What’s taking him so long?” Marissa asks.
Wendy’s jet-black hair falls into her face as she shakes her head. Her ice blue eyes shine with tears as Marissa clearly hits a delicate subject with all the grace of a fucking freight train.
I close my eyes for a second, hating the look on Wendy’s face. When she croaks out, “I don’t know,” I throw my arms around her and tell her, “He’s not stupid, Wen. He’ll put a ring on your finger. He’s not Sean, I promise.”
She holds me tight and whispers, “Thank you.”
As she vents about six years without a ring, I pull up a quick text to Jett and write, “Don’t be a dick like Sean. Go to the goddamn jeweler and pick something out. Soon.”
When he replies with, “On it, but shut up about it,” I try not to smile.
I do, however, open my mouth to say, “I bet you it’ll happen anytime. Let’s just say I have a really good feeling about it. He’s got a good head on his shoulders, and he’s not stupid enough to lose you, Wendy.”
She gives me a winning grin. “If you’re so sure, I’ll choose to believe you.
My mom keeps telling me that cliché line about not buying the cow when he gets the milk for free, and she warns me that moving in with him last year was a mistake because now he gets me to be his domestic goddess with a bare ring finger. ”
“Your mother, bless her heart, is one of the most pessimistic people I’ve ever met,” Tara tells her. “Now, come on. How about one more shot?”
“Only if you want me to fall unconscious,” I mutter. The alcohol has warmed my body, brought heat to my cheeks, and the room feels like it’s closing in on me. “Be back.” I slip out to the backyard and admire my gorgeous view of the Rockies, thinking for a brief second how much I’ll miss this view.
I tug my phone out of my pocket and take a photo of the dazzling stars above, beside a bright moon and Venus.
Sean had never been much for stargazing, but I adore how insignificant I feel in the grand scheme of things when I look up.
So small—yet some astrophysicists would say created from stardust itself.
Me—the tiniest blip in the universe but containing the universe within me.
I sigh with the wonder of it all, and I wish, in this moment, Deacon were at my side.
Something tells me he would appreciate my inner musings.
When I turn to go back inside, I’m carrying more peace with me than before.
The girls are pulling out the couch and making the bed with sheets they know I keep in the hall closet, while Marissa, known for her ability to sleep anywhere at any time, just curls up on the other, much softer, sofa and closes her eyes.
“Bedtime?” I ask, locking the sliding glass door behind me and turning off the oppressive kitchen light.
“Yes. Love you,” Marissa tells me as she turns away from the TV light, and then gets so quiet, I’m sure she’s already asleep.
I venture into the living room and perch on the recliner as Tara selects Jimmy Kimmel from the DVR. Minutes later, we all fall asleep, bellies full of Prosecco and tequila, hearts full of friendship none of us would sacrifice for anything.