34. Opal
THIRTY-FOUR
Opal
I ’m furious with myself.
Maybe that margarita had a few extra shots of tequila in it.
Who am I kidding? I wasn’t even drunk, I’m just an idiot. There’s no other way to explain what I did last night.
I still feel his touch everywhere, and fuck if I don’t still have a rush of adrenaline in my veins from it. The sight of his naked body above me, his golden hair falling over his closed eyes. It still feels like a dream, but now that I’m fully awake, I’m sure that it was very, very real.
It cannot happen again. It won’t. My momentary lapse in judgment was just that, momentary.
It happens, right? Sometimes people hook up with their exes. No biggie. My stomach dips and I take a deep breath, trying my best to calm my racing thoughts. There’s nothing you can do about it now, Opal.
I push myself out of bed, wishing I could just stay there and go back to sleep, back to a world where I didn’t make such a stupid decision. But alas, duty calls and I have to be at work in less than an hour.
I hop into the shower, turning the water as hot as it’ll go. Steam pours out from behind the curtain as I slide my pajamas off and throw them into the laundry hamper. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, my feet stuttering when I notice a purplish-red blotch on my clavicle. Jesus Christ. I have a hickey.
I’ve officially reverted back to my teenage self. Waking up with hickeys from the dumb boy across the street that doesn’t really care about me, and never has.
I step into the shower and quickly wash my hair, trying not to let memories of last night creep into my mind’s eye.
After my shower I get dressed and comb my hair. I do my best to cover the purple patch on my chest with foundation and concealer. It doesn’t work, so I have to change into a crew neck shirt that completely covers it. I hate this shirt, it’s hot and scratchy, but I’m going to have to deal with it. I guess this is my proverbial punishment.
“Morning,” Mamaw eyes me from behind her coffee mug, her legs crossed as she sits in her rocking chair on the porch. Lately she hasn’t felt well enough to walk very much, so I’m actually shocked to see she made her way out here all on her own.
“What are you doing out here, Mamaw?”
“Drinking my coffee, girl. What’s it look like?” She smiles at me, and I see a hint of sarcasm behind her eyes.
“Ask me for help next time.”
“Oh hell, you act like I’m completely incapacitated.” She rolls her eyes and then returns her gaze to the Homes & Gardens magazine on her lap.
“I just don’t want you to have another fall. I’m going to work, Martha will be here in about an hour.”
“Alright,” she nods, not bothering to make eye contact with me again. I sling my purse over my shoulder and make my way down the steps of the porch toward our driveway. “Oh, Opal?”
“Yeah?”
“Someone came by earlier looking for you.”
My stomach dips again. “What?”
“You remember Alex, I’m sure. Nice boy, I missed seeing him around. He said he wanted to speak with you.”
I blink at her a few times, unsure of how to respond. He came by? This morning? It’s barely eight o’clock. “Right. Okay, thanks,” I stutter as I turn on my heel and get into my car.
Today I’m filling in for a coworker, which means I have to work the front counter rather than in the back office. I hate working up here. It’s not that I’m bad with people, I think I’m actually decent at talking to them, but customer service exhausts me so quickly. I’d much rather plug numbers into a computer all day than deal with humans. Numbers are predictable, and a lot less likely to yell at you.
After clocking in I start setting out the fresh cupcakes and cookies into the glass display case. The door on the bell jingles and my stomach twists, I’m not ready for human interaction yet. It’s still too early, and my brain is too full of other shit that it shouldn’t be.
“You bitch,” I flick my eyes up at the unmistakable sound of my best friend’s voice. Her lips are curved up into a sarcastic grin.
“Yes?” I don’t bother to stop what I’m doing, hoping she’ll catch the hint that I’m not in the fucking mood today.
“Why didn’t you call me last night?”
Maisie works right down the road at the only bed and breakfast in town, conveniently the one that her parents own. She doesn’t actually need to work, her grandparents left her a hefty amount of money in a trust fund after they passed a couple years ago, but I think she must enjoy it on some level. She cleans the rooms and decorates the inn every month with seasonal decor and bouquets. But since her parents own the place, they don’t bat an eye if she walks out in the middle of the day to come see me, like she is right now.
“I was exhausted.” It’s the truth, well, some of the truth.
“You guys fucked.”
My eyes nearly bug out of my head, and I glance behind me to make sure my boss isn’t in the vicinity. “Are you crazy? I’m at work, be quiet.”
“Oh my god, you didn’t,” she covers her mouth with her hand, her amber eyes wide. “You did, didn’t you?”
“No.” I stare at the pile of cookies so that I won’t have to make eye contact with her.
“Opal.” She places her hands on her hips. “I’ve known you for fifteen years, I can tell when you’re lying.”
I take a deep breath and then level her with a glare. “Look, I don’t want to talk about it. It was a bad idea, okay? You can say you told me so, is that what you want?”
Her face falls and suddenly turns into a sympathetic frown. “Of course not. I’m just checking on you, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Well, I’m not. And I have work to do.”
She looks hurt, but it’s not like she didn’t start it. I love her, but sometimes her playfully sarcastic remarks piss me off. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you upset, I was just kind of shocked that you didn’t call or text me. I mean, going home with Alex , it’s kind of a big deal.”
I let out a sigh and slump against the glass counter. “You’re right. It is.”
“I’m here if you want to talk about it, okay? And if you need me to murder him I’m here for that, too.”
A tiny smile plays on my lips and I finally meet her gaze again. “Thanks.”
“Call me when you get off.”
I wave goodbye to her as she walks back through the door. Rubbing my temples, I take a deep breath, trying to decide what comes next.
Number one, I have to tell Ian what happened, or at the very least tell him we’re over. I can’t live with myself pretending like everything's okay after what I did. Even if what we have isn’t necessarily a committed relationship, it still doesn’t feel right hiding that from him.
Number two, I need to make sure I never see Alex Anderson ever again, because clearly my brain didn’t give my body the memo that he’s 100% off limits.
His words from last night stream through my mind.
“I never lied, I always loved you.”
I shake the memory away. It may have meant something to me in the moment, but it doesn’t hold any water today. If he ever really loved me nothing would have played out the way it did.
I pull my phone out of my apron pocket and tap out a quick text to Ian telling him I need to talk to him later. He immediately replies with an innocuous “ok”. Guilt twists in my stomach, I feel like a terrible person.
Somehow I manage to get through my shift without completely breaking down. After doing all of my side work I hang my apron on a hook in the back and clock out, wishing I had more time to decide how I’m going to do this.
I guess there’s only one way to do it.
I walk toward Ian’s apartment building and sit on the bench that’s directly in front of it, nervously twisting my hair in my fingers as I wait for him to come downstairs.
“Hey,” he greets me casually.
I don’t want to do this, but I know that I need to. Even though we agreed on a no-strings-attached situation, I know that he’s at least been a decent enough guy not to sleep around with other girls while we’ve been seeing each other. It feels bittersweet. I never pictured anything more with Ian, but he didn’t deserve this.
After hesitating for a moment I give him an uncomfortable smile. “I fucked up,” I mutter.
His brow arches and he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants before sitting down beside me. “How so?”
Wiping a hand down my face, I let out a deep sigh. “I went home with someone last night. From the bar.” I hope and pray that I won't have to give any more context than that, I don’t know if I have it in me to relay the details. “I’m sorry, Ian,” I say, my voice laced with guilt.
He folds his lips, staring down at the concrete beneath our feet. “Was your ex involved by any chance?”
My stomach dips and my face heats, I flick my eyes up to meet his and immediately I can see that he already knows the answer. How did he know? I nod awkwardly.
He shrugs, “I kinda saw that coming.” His face is nonchalant, but his eyes don’t meet mine. As far as I can tell, though, he couldn’t care less. I almost feel offended.
“What do you mean?”
“I always knew you were holding a torch for the guy. It’s why I didn’t bother letting this go any further. I mean, you’re a great girl, but I knew if he ever came back you’d leave me even if we were serious. I didn’t want to put myself through the pain of being your second choice.” His brown eyes flick over to mine before looking away again.
Guilt and remorse swirl together in my gut. I have no idea if what he’s saying is true, or if he’s just trying to make me feel worse, but either way it’s working. Maybe I should have given him a fair chance, a real chance. I never even tried to open my heart up to him.
“Honestly, it’s okay.” He scratches the back of his neck nervously. “There’s someone else I’ve been thinking about asking out, I wasn’t sure how to tell you.”
The guilt I was feeling quickly evaporates. “Oh.”
“Like I said, Opal, you’re great. You’re cute, smart. But let’s face it, we aren’t really compatible.”
I nod and take a deep breath, knowing that what he said is probably true. It shouldn’t hurt me in the least, but somehow it still feels like a rejection. I think at this point I’m just tired of feeling rejected so many times in my life, regardless of the source.
“You’re right,” I nod. “I hope we can still be friends.”
A small smile stretches over his lips. “Of course, I’m always here for you.”
I feel better, like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I was expecting that to be a lot worse.
We hug, and it doesn’t feel weird or awkward at all, in fact it feels more normal than any contact we’ve shared in the past. I always knew we were better as friends, I just felt like I needed someone to combat the loneliness with. He deserves better than that, and I hope this other girl will give him whatever it is he’s looking for.