Chapter 4 Piper
Ididn't remember deciding to drive to Maya's.
One moment I was pulling out of my apartment complex, and the next I was parked outside her building across town, staring up at the lit windows on the third floor. Her kitchen light was on, so she was home.
I sat there for a long moment, engine running, hands still gripping the steering wheel.
I could have called and warned her I was coming. But then she'd ask questions I didn't want to answer over the phone, and I'd probably start crying again, and I'd already cried enough for one day.
I grabbed my duffel bag from the back seat and headed inside.
The elevator took forever. I watched the numbers climb—1, 2, 3—and tried to figure out what I was going to say. Hey Maya, funny story, I caught Liam cheating and moved out, can I crash here? Probably too casual. Liam's been fucking someone else since March. Too blunt.
The doors opened.
I walked down the hall to 3C and knocked.
Maya opened the door in leggings and an oversized sweatshirt that said FISCALLY IRRESPONSIBLE in glitter letters. She had a glass of wine in one hand and her phone in the other. Her eyes went from me to the duffel bag to my face.
"Oh shit," she said. "What did he do?"
And just like that, I started crying again.
"Okay. Okay, come here." Maya dropped her phone on the entry table and pulled me inside, wrapping her free arm around me. She still had the wine glass in her other hand, holding it away from my hair. "You're okay. Whatever it is, you're okay."
Except I wasn't okay. I was so far from okay I couldn't even see it from here.
But I let her hold me anyway, breathing in her familiar lavender shampoo and the faint smell of the Chinese takeout she'd probably had for dinner. After a minute, she steered me toward the couch and set her wine glass on the coffee table.
"Sit," she ordered. "I'm getting more wine."
"I don't—"
"Sit, Piper."
I sat.
Maya disappeared into the kitchen. I heard cabinets opening, the clink of glass, liquid pouring. She came back with a bottle and an extra glass of red wine.
"Drink," she said.
I accepted the glass and took a sip. Then another. The wine was cheap and too sweet, but at least I had something to do with my hands.
Maya sat down next to me, tucked her legs under her, and waited.
"He cheated on me," I said finally.
Her jaw dropped. "Liam?"
"Yes, Liam. Who else would—" I stopped. Took another drink. "Sorry. Yes. Liam cheated on me."
"With who?"
"Jenna. The new girl at his station."
"The one from the Christmas party? The brunette who wouldn't shut up about crossfit?"
I almost laughed. "I don't remember her talking about crossfit."
"Trust me, she did. For like twenty minutes." Maya drained half her wine in one gulp. "Okay. Start from the beginning. What happened?"
I told her. Not all of it, as I couldn't go through every detail again, but enough. The cupcakes. Walking in on them. Running. The confrontation at the apartment.
Maya's face got progressively darker as I talked. By the time I got to "since March," she was on her feet.
"MARCH?" She was pacing now, gesturing with her wine glass. "That piece of shit. That absolute piece of human garbage. That’s when you started planning for the cake, wasn’t it? You were—oh my God, you were addressing wedding invitations.”
"I know."
"And he was…” She made an incoherent noise of rage. "I'm going to kill him. I'm going to actually kill him. We should key his truck."
"Maya—"
"No, I'm serious. Or we could tell his captain. Does his captain know? We should tell his captain. Isn't there like a code or something? Firefighters aren't supposed to—"
"I don't know if there's a code."
"There should be a code." She drained the rest of her wine and refilled both our glasses. "What about telling his mom? Oh God, his mom is going to lose her mind. She loves you."
"I don't want to tell his mom."
"But—"
"Maya." I rubbed my eyes. They felt swollen and gritty. "I just want to... not think about it. For five minutes. Please."
She stopped pacing and looked at me. "Okay. Yeah. Okay." She sat back down, closer this time, and squeezed my hand. "Sorry. I'm just so fucking mad."
"I know."
"Like, actually homicidal."
"I know."
We sat in silence for a minute. Maya kept squeezing my hand like she was afraid I'd disappear if she let go.
"What did you do?" she asked finally. "After he showed up at the apartment."
"I left."
Her eyebrows shot up. "You left?"
"He said he wasn't going to leave because he's on the lease. So I packed a bag and left."
Maya stared at me. Then she threw her head back and started laughing, the sound of it almost hysterical. "You just… you walked out?"
"Yeah."
"Oh my God." She was grinning now, fierce and proud. "That's so fucking badass. He thought he could pull the lease card and you just…” She made a gesture like an explosion. "You're staying here. Guest room is yours. For as long as you need."
"Maya, I can't—"
"You can and you will. I have the space and you're my sister and that dickhead doesn't get to make you homeless." She grabbed my phone from where I'd set it on the coffee table. The screen was lit up with notifications. "Jesus Christ, how many times has he called you?"
"I don't know. A lot."
She scrolled through, her face darkening again. "Forty-seven missed calls. Forty-seven. And… oh, what’s this? He sent you an essay." She started reading out loud. "'Piper, please, I know you're upset but we need to talk about this like adults and—‘”
"Don't."
"'I made a mistake but I love you and I want to fix… Oh, God, this is pathetic.” She looked up. "Can I block him? Please let me block him."
I should have said no. Should have kept that line of communication open, been the bigger person, handled this maturely.
"Do whatever you want," I said.
Maya's grin was feral. She tapped at my phone with vicious efficiency. "Blocked. Gone. You'll never have to see his pathetic bullshit again." She kept scrolling. "Oh, and mom texted. And his mom. Do you want to deal with those or should I just—"
"Tomorrow." I took another drink of wine. "I'll deal with everything tomorrow."
"Good. Because tonight you're going to drink this wine and eat leftover lo mein and watch trash TV and not think about that asshole even once."
"I don't think that's possible."
“We'll try anyway."