18. Ladies, You Can’t Fix Him #2
Mine did. “If you think I’m such a whore, then why bother driving me around?”
He glanced sideways at me, reaching over for my thigh. What did I hate most, that to avoid further conflict, I let him? That I’d even gotten in the car?
I didn’t need to know what was coming. Did it even matter what he said next?
Yes, it did.
“I knew what I was getting when you said yes to me that first night.”
I tasted bile then. Not the righteous rage I would have wanted for myself, but a sickly, guilt-ridden remorse.
Not for what I’d done to him, but for what I’d done to myself—the version of me my mother seemed to think I was, the one I was so confident I wasn’t.
But I was wrong and everyone else was right.
There was a world where I was exactly what Teddy thought I was, and it was this one, because Teddy was Teddy and I was me.
Not a single moment with Jude had ever made me hate myself that much. Not even William de Witt had made me feel this low, and he’d been right about the little bitch in the driver’s seat.
I felt completely numb by the time the villa came into view, the hills tinted scarlet as the sun dipped into the canyon.
I stepped out of the car without a word, not even to Genesis, who handed me a new phone, still in its box.
I felt silenced, like Teddy had already undermined every word I’d ever say.
Like in one fell swoop, he’d redefined everything I believed to be true about myself.
“Oh, Eddie.” William was there, distracted, descending the stairs with a balled piece of fabric in his hands. “What are you doing here?”
“Just dropping off Anya for her shift.” Teddy sounded like he’d just won an argument.
He had his arm around my shoulders and I couldn’t summon the energy to throw him off.
There was a maniacal air around him, some desire to prove something that should have been embarrassing under any other circumstances.
Showing me off to someone who didn’t give two fucks about me or him—a man who didn’t actually care what either of us had to say.
How had I ever really thought this could be worth it?
“Have you seen the news, by the way? Anya’s been featured in the L.A. Times.”
“Oh really?”
I was having trouble managing my breathing, the ongoing race of my heart. I couldn’t say what it was that was particularly damning—I couldn’t pretend that Teddy had hurt me. I’d ideated the element of transaction; I’d told myself things like at least my degradation is a choice.
It was something else, some alteration of my world view that I couldn’t turn back from.
I hadn’t even liked Teddy—I certainly hadn’t looked for Jude.
But the thing I did want, the life I was desperately chasing, could demean me just as easily, discard me the moment I was too ugly or too fat or too old.
For the sake of a real, stupid, kill-shot of a love, I’d said yes to a thousand things I hadn’t wanted.
Now they led me around like I’d slipped my own head into the noose.
Why had I ever believed I was smarter, more resilient than any of this? Why had I ever let myself believe I couldn’t fail?
For the first time, all my prayers came up empty.
I saw the world shift under my feet. I could fail.
I probably would fail. Statistically speaking it was far more likely I’d end up a carbon copy of my mother, abandoned and chronically underestimated, spreading my misery to others in the wake of everything I thought I’d be.
I knew what Teddy was, but I’d thought no, not me. I’m different.
God, Jude was right. I’d been worryingly stupid all along.
“Ah.” William had glanced at something on Teddy’s phone—belatedly I realized it was the L.A. Times article. Now they both were looking at me with a sense of expectation, a blank space for my gratitude, maybe. My thanks for holding the attention of these two important men.
But William was looking at me more intensely, with an air of something I didn’t understand. “You’re Filipino,” he said, his voice an airy sort of whisper. “You know, I was sure there was something there. It’s in the eyes.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I understood, again, still, that it really didn’t matter if I spoke. So I said nothing, and after a moment William nodded conclusively to Teddy, moving to pass us and make his way to the villa’s courtyard.
“You’ve got a good one,” he remarked to Teddy, his hand hovering for just a moment on my lower back as he passed me. It was a message meant for me alone, and I understood it.
I’d opened the door for it. I’d invited it in.
“I certainly do,” Teddy called cheerily after him. William had already moved on, traversing the patio, and in his wake, Teddy turned to me. “I’ll come by for you in the morning,” he said.
I realized he meant it. He didn’t like me any more than I liked him, but he was going to keep showing up until he could safely tell himself that it had been his decision to end it. That I was his to discard and not the other way around.
He kissed my cheek, and I said, I think, “Bye.” In my head I was playing the usual game: Could I Survive It? Yes, I could. It was humiliating but it was nothing, in the scheme of things. It was just a man playing a game with himself, proving to himself what he could do.