17. The Third Day Before Christmas
The Third Day Before Christmas
Scene I
[In front of a nice-looking apartment door.]
Viola, dressed as herself, stands in front of the door.
I have so many questions for myself:
Do I knock on the door? It’s my own apartment. I’ve only been gone for just over a week. I still have a key. But, is it rude not to knock?
Do I actually believe that Mal has something important to talk about, as his third text indicated, or is this just another game of his?
What the fuck am I doing?
I know I shouldn’t rush into this. I know I should take time and reflect.
Unfortunately, I’m already late for my shift at Snowspruce.
While Maria was surprisingly understanding about me needing to sort out some apartment logistics with my ex, I don’t want to push my luck.
Especially since she specifically said that, since she’s doing me a favour, I could ease her workload by finally bringing in my paperwork…
which I have no intention of doing today.
So, I knock. I knock and I wait an insultingly long time until Mal opens the door. He’s all smiles as if his dick wasn’t inside a nurse at the hospital the last time I saw him. While he knew I was there with my injured brother.
“Hey,” he sighs. I can practically hear the empathetic ‘how you holding up, kiddo’ that wants to follow that hey.
I hold up my phone, his last message pulled up. “You said you needed to talk about something important with the apartment?”
His smile doesn’t change, not technically, but I see a shift in it. For a second, everything just hardens into place. It’s gone the next moment, quick enough that I could tell myself I imagined it. Not anymore. I see through him now.
“Do you want to come in?” He opens the door wide.
I don’t want to come in, yet my feet waltz me through my old dance.
The apartment already feels like a lifetime ago.
I walk from room to room like a ghost haunting my old life.
I see flashes and echoes of who I was just a short while ago in the different corners and crevices of the apartment.
I see myself waiting for Mal to come home.
I see myself cooking and cleaning because I know he’ll be just so tired when he gets back from work.
I see myself holding back tears, wondering how love can feel so cold.
I shiver with grief for that girl.
“It’s so clean in here,” I mutter.
Mal chuckles, leaning against the wall, brushing some of his perfectly coiffed sandy hair away from his eyes. “Yes, who would’ve thought I could clean?”
Not me. In all our time together, I don’t think I ever saw him wipe down a counter or mop the floor. I thought I’d show up to see the apartment looking like Sebatian’s. Instead, it looks how I remember it.
Mostly. Here and there are pops of colour, decorations that I certainly didn’t buy.
“You’ve been decorating?” I ask, pointing to a standing picture frame on the bookcase that says ‘Live, Laugh, Glug’ and has a picture of a glass of red wine on it.
For a second, there’s no answer. I turn to look at Mal. Immediately, his face goes from neutral to smiling broadly. “Well, I had to do a little bit of shopping since you took so much of our stuff with you when you left.”
I recoil. That’s one way of interpreting how that went down.
First of all, everything in the apartment is mine, not ours.
I paid for everything since Mal was broke from school.
I also barely brought anything with me at all.
Secondly, did I decide to leave the apartment?
I know that was the outcome, but I don’t remember expressing that I wanted to leave.
Rather, we started arguing and everything became a blur until I was packing up my things.
“What was so important that I needed to come talk to you immediately about, even though it’s going to make me late for work?”
There’s nothing in the apartment, aside from tacky new decorations, that screams emergency. I thought maybe I’d see a burst pipe or raccoon infestation. I should’ve known it was only important because it was important to him.
Mal cocks his head. “You’re working? I thought the accounting firm was on holiday for December?”
I’m shocked he remembered. “I have a seasonal gig, so let’s make this quick.”
Mal sits on the couch, my couch and pats the spot beside him. No part of me wants to sit beside him. Not now that I’ve snuggled Duke, fallen into every contour of his body and felt the heat of his adoration radiate through me. In comparison to that, Mal looks like a crocodile cloaked in human skin.
I don’t move. “Seriously, make it quick.”
Mal’s eye twitches when it becomes apparent that I’m not playing his game.
“Viola, dear, I know we said that I’d move out and you could take back the damage deposit, but I don’t think that really works for me.”
It’s almost word for word what Sebastian said Mal would be saying.
“It doesn’t work for you?”
He shakes his head. “This apartment is really convenient. It’s close to work, it’s set up just how I need it…
” Yeah, I know. I know because I did all that .
“Besides, you and I have a pattern. We break up, we fall back together. I’d hate to give up such a perfect place if we’re just taking a little detour on the path towards our forever. ”
A little detour ? I came to the hospital to be with my brother after he fell off that bar’s balcony. I even texted Mal that I was coming, yet I still caught him in the act. That’s not a detour. That was our car driving off a cliff.
“So what? You want to keep the apartment and give me my damage deposit back?”
Mal winces. “You know I’m still getting my feet under me. I don’t really have any extra money right now.”
“But I do?” I yell. Yell . I never once yelled at Mal. “I’ve spent the last seven years paying for everything for us. I have no savings, yet I’m supposed to go out and pay for a new place? Alone?”
“You’re staying with your brother—”
“And what about my stuff, Mal?”
His eyes darken. They don’t even snap back to pleasant afterwards. They just darken while his face holds an unpleasant look. “You mean our stuff?”
I shake my head. “ My stuff. My stuff that I paid for. That I picked out and I paid for.”
Mal brushes invisible lint from his sleeve. “You’re lashing out at me, like you always do. Make me the bad guy because you’re struggling with managing your own life.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to argue that I don’t always lash out.
But that’s what I always do. I get caught up in disproving his wild, sweeping accusations instead of pursuing my point.
He needles and needles me by making me defend myself and then accuses me of attacking him.
The fight ends with me beaten down and exhausted, without ever actually getting to my point.
“My stuff, Mal.”
Mal leans forward, wiping at his eyes with his palms. “I can’t believe you’re reducing our relationship to stuff. Did the last five years not mean anything to you? Did you ever even care about me?”
I might have fallen for it if I’d never seen the unfiltered authenticity of Duke’s smile or heard the truth in his words as he confessed that he liked me for me. I’ve seen into the crystal-clear pool that is Duke’s eyes, and now, Mal’s just look like puddles of bullshit.
“It’s because of our history that I’m letting you off easy. Give me my stuff back and the damage deposit, and I won’t go nuclear. I won’t—”
I’m interrupted as the front door opens.
A pretty young woman in pink scrubs enters.
“Hey babe, I forgot my lunch in the fridge. Did I mention that I made you—” She freezes when she sees me, keys dangling in her hand.
From the lanyard, I recognize them as our spare set.
“Hello,” she says pleasantly. Then, turning to Mal, she asks much less pleasantly, “Who’s this? ”
Who’s this? Like I’m the intruder. Like I’m the one who doesn’t belong.
Mal gets up from the couch, all the cords in his neck popping out. “You were supposed to be at work,” he grits out.
She cocks an eyebrow. “Yeah, and I told you I forgot my lunch. I didn’t realize I’d be interrupting you entertaining random girls in our apartment.”
I look her over, in awe that she’s already speaking to Mal in the way I should’ve. I also look her over to confirm what I already know: she’s not the girl that I caught Mal cheating on me with. Just another girl who’s been with him long enough to move in.
No wonder the apartment is so clean.
“Hi, I’m Viola. This is my apartment.”
Mal flies off the couch. “Listen, this is my ex. She came over here wanting to talk. I told you how she is.”
I smile, even though I want to throw up a little.
“Did he tell you that I’m the only one on the lease, though?
” Mal freezes. Honestly, I luxuriate a little in his panic.
“Ahh… Just remembering, are you? Remembering that you didn’t want your name on the lease.
You said that because of your credit score, it’d hurt our chances at getting the place.
Although, now I see that you just didn’t want anything to tie you here in case you decided to cut and run. ”
The girl at the door falters. “Is this true?”
Mal looks between us. He takes a step towards me. “Viola—”
I hold my hand up. I’m just so done with him. “You could’ve just decided to not be a complete piece of shit for two seconds and given me my stuff. Now, I want you out of here.”
“What about us?” he asks. The girl at the door gasps. When Mal sees that I’m unmoved, not even bothering to answer him, he switches tactics. “I have rights. I’ve lived here for years.”
I nod. “Remember when we moved in? The exact date? I do. I was so, so happy.” And I was.
“Do you remember what I said? I said that it was a fresh start for a fresh year. Our lease is up December 31 st . As the only person on it, I will not be renewing it. If you love the apartment, feel free to apply for it. Merry Christmas, Mal.”
I walk out, not bothering to turn as Mal shouts at me, “You can’t do this!”
Clearly, I can do this. I’ve always had so much more power than I gave myself credit for when it comes to Mal.
His footsteps thunder behind me. He grabs me by the arm. Not hard, but with no hesitation, no thought of the fact that this is a violation. “I’m not done talking to you. You’re being too emotional to listen right now.”
I lower my voice, though not as low as it needs to be.
“If you don’t want me telling your new girlfriend exactly when we broke up, we are done.
I’ve wasted years of my life—good years—on you.
Years when I could have been building my future or having fun.
Years where I could’ve been loved and treasured.
Years where I could have been happy.” I inhale deeply.
“No more. From this moment on, you’re nothing.
In fact, you’ve always been nothing. You always had to push me down to make yourself feel tall.
Well, not anymore. I’m going to move on and never think about the small man who held me back. ”
Mal clenches his jaw. “I’m not small.”
I smile. “Then why would you never let me wear heels?”
With that, I leave, breathing for the first time in years.
Exit Viola, smiling.
In the background, Mal and the woman yell at each other.