Chapter 3
N eve groaned. She’d been asleep on the couch for hours, and, while it was a pretty nice couch, it did not lend itself to extended periods of sleep.
She fumbled for her phone, still tucked inside her coat pocket—a coat she’d wrestled herself out of and dropped on the floor in front of the couch. It would be embarrassing if her roommates found her like this.
It would also be embarrassing because they were a couple and Neve, suddenly… wasn’t.
She swallowed hard around the lump in her throat. She couldn’t keep crying about it. Well, she could, but she didn’t want to. Part of her was angry with herself for being so upset over someone who broke up with her in a Best Buy. But, maybe—
She cut the thought off, finally waking her phone up and noticing the time. After midnight. That meant Alice and Charlie were probably home. It would be weird if they weren’t. They’d gotten home, likely hours ago, seen Neve on the couch, her things strewn haphazardly around her, and just left her there. They both knew she was supposed to be gone tonight, at Roxanne’s. Sense dictated that they’d have put the pieces together.
Put the pieces together and felt too sorry for her to even wake her up. Just let her sleep. She needs it.
Neve grimaced, burying her face in one of the couch cushions. As if the day hadn’t been embarrassing enough. Could it really get much worse? Dumped. In public. Rescued by a stranger who Neve then cried all over. Her bag still sitting in her ex-girlfriend’s car. Giving into sleep for the entire day. And, finally, being pitied by her best friends. Great. Wonderful day. She hoped tomorrow would be just as good.
She clambered inelegantly off the couch, feeling a headrush when she wrestled herself upright. It had been a long time since she’d slept that heavily in a bed let alone on a couch with other people coming and going.
The kitchen was dark, but the rest of the flat was quiet, so she slipped the light on, being careful not to make too much noise. It was already tomorrow. No longer the day Neve had been dumped. Despite how it felt, life went on and everything was okay. She didn’t need to start this day with the inevitable pity and questions and sympathetic but slightly judging looks.
She opened the fridge and found the pity anyway.
We made enchiladas. Help yourself to the rest.
Hope it helps xoxo
She knew they meant well, and she appreciated the gesture—Charlie’s enchiladas were to die for—it was just that sinking feeling that Neve was a child again. Couldn’t do anything right, couldn’t be in a relationship right, couldn’t do sex right, couldn’t be an adult right. Would she forever be relegated to sitting home with pitying meals from a revolving door of flatmates who stopped here before moving on to their real lives?
She thought she’d done it, thought she was finally getting what everyone else got. Worst of all, she thought she’d finally been understood. Maybe you didn’t get understanding if you couldn’t meet everyone exactly where you were supposed to in a relationship?
She took the enchiladas from the fridge, debating whether microwaving them would make too much noise and deciding that she’d never once heard someone microwave food while she was sleeping, so it was likely fine. However, once she was watching them dance around the glowing microwave, she felt the weight weighing on her again. She didn’t want to believe the ridiculous, untrue talking points. She didn’t want them to be true. They probably weren’t true. She knew they weren’t true.
But sometimes they felt it.
Maybe that was just what it was like when you were slightly out of step with something others felt was the pinnacle of human existence. She wished she knew what it felt like. Sort of. It was complicated.
“Hey,” said a soft voice from the doorway behind her.
Neve jumped, whirling in a panic like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t. “Charlie. Jesus. Hi.”
Charlie looked around exaggeratedly. “Didn’t realize I’d brought the big guy with me.”
“What?” It took a minute. “Oh. Right. Sorry.”
Charlie smiled. It was very almost her ordinary smile, but, just under the surface, Neve could feel it: pity, concern. Judgment?
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Neve said, turning back to the microwave and stopping it before its loud beeps could sound. “Just woke up famished.”
“I was still awake. Just reading, you know?”
“Ah, of course.” Neve nodded as she pulled her food out of the microwave. Charlie was a voracious reader who’d never met a queer book she didn’t like. Both Neve and Alice were waiting for the day she didn’t like one, because no person could like every single book they ever read, but so far, Charlie defied both them and logic. “What was it tonight?”
“Ahh, a riveting tale of lady pirates, hidden treasure, mistaken identities, and a very sexy little scene out on deck…”
Neve frowned. “Orgy, or just the thrill of getting caught?”
Charlie laughed. “The thrill. Though, if the author wants to work in a whole crew orgy, that’d be hot.”
“You should email them that feedback.”
“I’ll consider it.”
Neve felt Charlie’s eyes on her as she sat down at the little kitchen table. She knew what was coming, but she wished it wasn’t. Neve didn’t know the book they were talking about, but she’d offer to let Charlie read the entire thing aloud to her before she’d pick being questioned—
“So, Roxanne.”
There it was.
Neve swallowed a mouthful of food a little too quickly, a little too hot. The burn was unpleasant but manageable. She wasn’t sure she’d say the same about hearing Roxanne’s name. “Indeed.”
Perhaps she should have been more grateful that one of the two people in her life who actually knew about Roxanne was willing to talk about it with her. She couldn’t quite find that gratitude, though.
“You wanna talk about it?” Charlie asked.
“Absolutely not.”
“But…”
Neve sighed. “ But , indeed.”
“Did you call it off or did she?”
Neve narrowed her eyes, watching Charlie as she leaned against the door frame in her tank top and shorts. “I don’t usually pack a weekend bag to go break up with someone. In fact, I don’t think most people do.”
Charlie laughed appreciatively. “Okay, fair point. Though, in my defense, most people don’t ask you to pack one for that either…”
Neve gulped, praying the burning in her eyes away. Her whole face felt puffy, her insides raw, and she hated how most of it felt like she was upset and angry with herself, not Roxanne. “Yes, well, turns out, sometimes, people ask you to pack a bag, take you to Best Buy, and dump you in the aisles, but hey, whatever works for them.”
Charlie worked hard to suppress her grimace. It didn’t work well, but at least she tried.
Neve stared at her, shocked at her own bitterness. Was being angry and bitter better or worse than being heartbroken and sobbing?
Charlie finally walked into the kitchen and collapsed into the chair opposite Neve. “You’re handling it better than I would have if she’d dumped me in a Best Buy. Must have been an awkward ride home.”
Neve glowered at her plate as she deliberately chewed and swallowed another mouthful. She figured it meant something terrible that she was glad of the burn for the distraction and relief it brought from the whole situation.
Eventually, she shrugged slightly. “I’m sure it would have been.”
Charlie’s dark brown eyes narrowed, fixed on Neve. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“She didn’t drive me home.”
The moment of silence around them felt oppressive. Somehow, it had felt easier to admit all of this to a stranger named Alba than it was to one of her best friends. Perhaps Alba had been right and it was because they’d never see each other again—it really didn’t matter what she knew. Now that Charlie knew, she’d know forever. And so would Alice.
“You’re telling me Roxanne had you pack a weekend bag, picked you up, drove you to the mall, broke up with you, and just abandoned you there?” The confusion on Charlie’s face was at least some comfort that the whole situation really was that ridiculous.
Neve nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you. Oh, and she still has my bag in her car.” She hesitated. “Well, actually, that might not be fair—”
“Do we care about fair in this situation?”
Neve smiled gratefully before continuing. “She spotted someone she knew right after she… Well, you know, and she’s never been great about running into her friends while she’s out with me, so, I just… let her go and walked away. Maybe she would have driven me home?”
“If her reasoning wasn’t something that suddenly came up in the mall—like, you didn’t attack her because she wants a red kettle, did you?”
“Of course not.”
“Then, there you go. She drove you out there planning to do that. She drove you to the middle of nowhere, with no way to independently get yourself home, to break your heart.”
“I’m sure that wasn’t—”
“It definitely was.” Charlie shook her head. “Roxanne had better hope we don’t run into each other, or I’ll give her a piece of my mind.”
“That’s really not necessary.”
“Who does that?” Charlie continued as if Neve hadn’t spoken. “What a shitty thing to do. She could have done it over the phone. She could have done it here before you left. She could have done it in the car right outside. There were so many options, and she chose the shittiest one.”
“Oh, I’m sure there are worse options.”
“In this situation, no, there are not.”
Neve looked at her. It had been easier talking with Alba about this, but she couldn’t deny that there was something about having one of your best friends so obviously outraged for you, so ready to validate how horrid you’d been feeling. Maybe Neve had needed both of them today.
Maybe Neve was also overly attached to a woman she didn’t know and would never see again. But, hey, Alba was, for all intents and purposes, her knight in shining armor. Just for today, at least. And sometimes, everyone needed one of those.
Everyone also needed a friend who looked as ready to charge into battle as Charlie did.
“How did you get home, then?” she asked, her forehead creasing. “Taxi?”
“Oh, uh…” Neve felt herself blushing at how dangerous an idea it had been to get into a car with a stranger. And how pathetic it sounded to have had a breakdown on that very same stranger. “I, um, ran into someone on the way out of the store.”
“Someone you know?” The suspicious expression on Charlie’s face implied she already knew the answer.
Neve swallowed more food, looking pointedly away. “Actually, no. Just a… stranger.”
Charlie’s expression dropped and she stared at Neve deadpan. “You, heartbroken and alone, got into the car of a stranger, didn’t text me or Alice to mention it, and thought that was a good idea?”
Neve winced. “Uh, yeah, that’s… sort of how it went down. I mean, we’d already been talking for a few minutes when I got into her car, and she seemed perfectly lovely and normal.”
“How lovely. And normal. Have you learned nothing about stranger danger?”
Neve rolled her eyes and got up to clean her plate. “I’m not five.”
“So you say.”
“Oh, my god. Charlie, I promise, the situation was perfectly safe. Alba was helpful and kind, and she was there when I needed someone.”
“You could have called me, you know?”
The slightly hurt undertone had Neve cringing. The last thing she needed was to offend her best friends. She didn’t need to be more alone in the world than she already felt.
She turned slowly. “I know, sorry. I just… wasn’t thinking straight. Sorry.”
Charlie shrugged. “It’s okay. Just call us next time.”
Next time. Because they all just knew there would be a next time?
Deep down, Neve was certain Charlie didn’t mean it that way. Most relationships failed. That was just life. It wasn’t necessarily a commentary on how Neve could not, and would never be able to, maintain a relationship. But it felt like that.
“Did she give a reason?” Charlie asked, helping herself to a grape from the fruit bowl, totally oblivious to the crisis her words had given Neve.
Neve bought herself some time fussing at the sink. This was another thing she didn’t want to have to say out loud. She’d managed to tell Alba, but she didn’t really want to tell Charlie. Maybe because doing so made it really real. Telling Alba made it real enough that the breakup had happened, but telling Charlie was acknowledging that thing they apparently all knew—nobody was going to want Neve forever.
She busied herself as she set about putting the kettle on and offering Charlie tea. Would it be terrible to tell her? Would it be worse not to? Did it mean something about Neve or their friendship if she didn’t? Were you allowed to keep certain things private in a friendship? Even if you’d already told someone else? Were you allowed to postpone the inevitable pity if you didn’t want it?
Neve went back and forth the entire time the kettle brewed and as she made their drinks, Charlie simply waited for the answer as she sat at the table eating grapes.
When Neve rejoined her, she knew she had to give some answer, and, if Roxanne had given her a lie as a reason, who was to stop Neve trying to make that reason reality? Charlie had asked if Roxanne had given a reason. That was the reason she’d given. Just because Neve sensed the real reason underneath it, didn’t mean that was the thing she had to share with everyone.
“Her family,” Neve said quietly, fearing saying it any louder would give away the lie. “You know how they are. She said it wouldn’t work if we could never tell them we were together.”
“Huh.” Charlie stirred the contents of her mug, watching them pensively, as if she didn’t truly believe the reasoning. Maybe she didn’t, but Neve wasn’t going to think about that. “Maybe she should have figured that out nine months ago.”
“Yeah, but here we are. I guess at least she’ll know for the next relationship.”
Charlie studied Neve for a moment too long, making her itch and want to squirm. Neve fought hard not to give in to the urge. To do so would be tantamount to admitting her lie.
After an uncomfortably long time, Charlie looked away. “Guess so. I still can’t believe she didn’t have the courtesy to break up with you somewhere kinder.”
“Maybe she wanted a neutral space.”
“Understandable, but there’s neutral, and then there’s… whatever that was. Entrapment.”
“That’s not what entrapment means.”
“It should be.” She shook her head. “And you. I can’t believe you got in a stranger’s car. Do that again and I’ll murder you.”
“Isn’t your worry that they’re going to murder me? What difference does it make if you just murder me anyway?”
Charlie gulped her tea. “You’re heartbroken, so I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”
Neve shook her head. Her question had nothing to do with being heartbroken and everything to do with logic. What difference did it make who murdered her if someone was going to anyway?
And, honestly, the longer she thought about it, the less heartbroken she felt. She was hurt and a little angry, and heartbroken for something, but it wasn’t really Roxanne. It was more heartbroken for the version of herself that got to live a normal life with a normal love, heartbroken for the life she no longer believed she’d get.
But, Roxanne? Maybe things hadn’t been all that wonderful after all. Maybe Alba had been right when they’d sat outside Neve’s building and she’d insisted that even if someone couldn’t be out with their family, they’d still make you feel special and loved, rather than making you feel like a burden.
Maybe Neve wasn’t even all that different. Here she was, talking about her deepest fears and experiences with a stranger, but unable to tell her own best friends. Maybe she didn’t have a place judging what Roxanne would tell to whom. Wasn’t Neve doing that exact same thing? Keeping people at a distance and shutting them out to protect herself? Maybe Neve had been the threat in Roxanne’s life all along. And maybe threats weren’t enough to give up all the things you wanted for.
Maybe they’d always been heading here. Maybe Neve always would be.