April Again
Brian
“Okay, Brian, I’m heading out.”
I look up at Justin and offer a smile I don’t feel. “No worries, mate. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You do plan on going home, right?” Justin asks, his eyebrow arched high enough that it disappears under the mop of his hair.
I didn’t think I was going to get along with this man.
For one, he’s never quite let go of the eighties, despite being born a decade later.
He wears his hair long and shaggy, and lives in denim no matter the dress code.
He’s one of those men who seem to exist slightly outside the normal flow of things, as though he’s following his own set of rules.
He speaks carefully, earnestly, and sometimes says things that make you wonder if you’ve misheard him. You usually haven’t. He’s just already ten steps ahead of everyone else.
Because that’s the thing. He’s brilliant. And funny too. Once you learn his sense of humour.
“I’m going home,” I tell him. “I’ve been going home.”
“If you say so, man, but Rosalia says you never leave your desk.”
“Rosalia needs to mind her business,” I mutter. I clear my throat and offer him a smile. “Don’t worry. I’ve been going home. The tarantula must be mistaken.”
“I dunno,” he says, scratching his chin. “She’s usually pretty good about these things.”
He stares at me. I stare right back, determined not to look at the tarantula tank where I’m sure Rosalia is watching everything with her beady little eyes.
“Whatever. I gotta go wrestle a goat for a hat.”
He salutes me, pushing off the door and leaving me alone for the night.
Again.
“Just you and me again, Rosie, you little snitch.” I stand and approach the tank, grabbing the tub of live prey and dropping one into the enclosure. I watch for a moment as she feels around her web, testing every vibration before striking with lightning-fast reflexes.
The poor cricket had no chance.
“Happy eating.” I turn the overhead lamp off and give her some privacy, taking my laptop into the now empty staffroom.
The office is much smaller than the one back home, but since it’s only Justin and myself here, I don’t mind. The only reason we have an office at all is to make it feel more official, but Justin tends to work from home, only popping in to bring his daily dose of madness.
I’ve been here in Detroit for about three weeks now. And while it’s not home, it’s not the adjustment I thought it would be.
Before Blackpool, the plan was not to live here. In fact, I’d factored Jesy into every decision I made regarding my working relationship with Justin and the merger of our two companies.
And the fact that I didn’t want to factor Rachel in led to my decision to break things off with her. It was a fucking rough decision, one that earned me a slap across the face.
But it was the right one.
I planned to tell Jesy I loved her and that I had this incredible work opportunity that I’d love to bring her on board with. If only she gave me the chance.
And if she didn’t want to come to Detroit with me, I’d travel back and forth to be with her. For her. I’d give her the freedom from her shitty husband, the space to create and find her place in this world.
Jokes on me.
Because she just left.
In fact, worse than that, she left and went silent. I could have forgiven her for leaving. I could have rationalised it, as much as it fucking hurt.
But to say nothing.
Boy, do I feel like a fucking fool.
So, instead, I packed up and moved out of the flat I’ve lived in for years and took the plunge. Here for at least six months and doing what’s best for my company.
She is not what’s best for my company.
I force her out of my mind, focusing instead on making a bowl of Ramen. I stare out of the window at the streets of Detroit below.
Ah, there are worse places to live.
Even though I’m not a city boy. Even though being here with the tall skyscrapers is a little bit intimidating.
Jesy would have been fine. Glasgow is full of tall buildings and bustling city life. She’d have been right at home in here despite her small-town beginnings and…
Fuck.
I hate when that happens. I sigh and move away from the window, taking a seat at the table and opening my laptop.
Far from distracting me from Jesy, a message notification pings, flashing her name on my screen and making me feel as though I’ve been plunged into an ice bath.
I open it greedily, despite the part of me that hates myself for doing it.
She’s only sent five words, but I can already feel myself tensing as anger courses through my body.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
You have received an instant message from:
Jesy
Jesy: You moved without telling me?
Brian: Please tell me you’re joking right now.
Jesy: No. You don’t move without telling people.
Brian: You don’t leave the bed you’ve just spent all night fucking someone in without telling that someone.
Jesy: I apologised for that.
Jesy: Except you wouldn’t know. Because you moved!
Brian: Fuck off, Jesy.
Brian: You haven’t apologised. You haven’t fucking spoken to me in over a month.
Jesy: I sent you a letter!
Brian: And? I didn’t receive that letter. I’ve had no apologies.
Jesy: Oh, well I’m not apologising now! You moved!
Brian: You left!
Jesy: Fuck you!
Brian: Fuck you too!
Brian Trainer has left the conversation
7 Apr | From: Jesy Mason | To: Brian Trainer
Subject: Hey!
I wasn’t finished with this conversation. You don’t just get to leave. I have questions. Where the hell did you move to??
7 Apr | From: Brian Trainer | To: Jesy Mason
Subject: RE: Hey!
You changed your name.
7 Apr | From: Jesy Mason | To: Brian Trainer
Subject: RE: Hey!
It’s my maiden name.
7 Apr | From: Brian Trainer | To: Jesy Mason
Subject: RE: Hey!
No more Jerry?
7 Apr | From: Jesy Mason | To: Brian Trainer
Subject: RE: Hey!
No more Jerry.
Which you’d know if you didn’t move.
7 Apr | From: Brian Trainer | To: Jesy Mason
Subject: RE: Hey
Jesy if you want any chance of moving forward from this you’ve got to shut the fuck up about the move. You lost any right to be angry about it when you left me alone in Blackpool.
I planned on telling you all about it. I had this whole speech ready to go, but you blew me off. You don’t get to be the angry one right now.
Who ended the marriage, you or Jerry?
7 Apr | From: Jesy Mason | To: Brian Trainer
Subject: RE: Hey!
Jerry, technically.
I told him what happened between us. He kicked me out. Called me some names.
But I told him knowing full well what was coming, he just beat me to the punch.
Literally.
7 Apr | From: Brian Trainer | To: Jesy Mason
Subject: RE: Hey
What do you mean literally?
7 Apr | From: Jesy Mason | To: Brian Trainer
Subject: RE: Hey!
Well, he hit me, Brian.
I didn’t expect any less.
7 Apr | From: Brian Trainer | To: Jesy Mason
Subject: RE: Hey
What the fuck?
Why are you being so blasé about it? I hope you reported him.
7 Apr | From: Jesy Mason | To: Brian Trainer
Subject: RE: Hey!
I cheated on him.
It’s not the worst thing he’s done to me in the past month so I’m just letting it go. No, it’s not okay. Yes, I’m fine. He just acted out of anger and the moment to report him has passed.
7 Apr | From: Brian Trainer | To: Jesy Mason
Subject: RE: Hey
The moment is never passed. You can report him any time. But let’s put a pin in that.
What do you mean hitting you isn’t the worst thing?
7 Apr | From: Jesy Mason | To: Brian Trainer
Subject: RE: Hey!
He’s been sending my stuff back to me in boxes. A little while ago he sent my adult toys back covered in spunk.
7 Apr | From: Brian Trainer | To: Jesy Mason
Subject: RE: Hey
He did what?
That’s absolutely fucking disgusting. Not to mention sexual harassment. And violating. Who the fuck does that?
Report. The. Fucker.
I’ve got half a mind to show him what happens to men who abuse women. God, why the fuck did you stay with him so long?
I swear, Jesy, make better fucking choices.
7 Apr | From: Jesy Mason | To: Brian Trainer
Subject: RE: Hey!
Aw.
You feeling protective?
7 Apr | From: Brian Trainer | To: Jesy Mason
Subject: RE: Hey
Don’t be cute.
Just because I’m angry, doesn’t mean I’ve stopped caring about you. It doesn’t work that way.
So, yes. I’m feeling protective. Yes, I want to pound his face into something concrete. And I am very glad you are no longer around him.
But I still don’t particularly want to be around you either.
You have received an instant message from:
Jesy.
Jesy: I’m sorry.
Jesy: I panicked, okay?
Brian: You panicked.
Jesy: Yeah. I mean I was married.
Brian: You were married.
Jesy: Right. And you had Rachel.
Brian: And I had Rachel.
Jesy: Can you stop repeating everything I’m saying?
Brian: Just wanted you to read how pathetic you sound.
Jesy: I said I was sorry!
Brian: I didn’t have Rachel, by the way.
Jesy: What? What do you mean?
Brian: I broke up with her before Blackpool.
Jesy: You didn’t say.
Brian: Nope. I didn’t want you to feel like you were the only one cheating.
Jesy: Oh, but you don’t mind now?
Brian: What fucking good did it do for me? I tried to do whatever I could to ease your guilt. I asked you countless times if you were sure. You told me to ‘shut up and fuck you’ if I recall correctly. I did everything right. I gave you every chance to stop.
Brian: I did everything right and I still got screwed.
Jesy: What else can I say except I’m sorry?
Brian: Give me a better fucking reason, Jesy. I told you a month ago. Leaving me there I can sort of understand. Or I can at least rationalise it knowing what I know about you. But not talking to me?
Brian: That is where I’m tripping up. I fucking missed you, Jes. Did you not miss me? Did it not fucking rip your heart out to go from what we shared in Blackpool to nothing?
Brian: Or did I just completely misread the situation? Was I far more into you than you were to me? Did you just want an escape from Jerry?
Jesy: No!
Jesy: No, that wasn’t it at all.