Chapter 3
Zoe
I stand in front of the building where I (used to) live and debate where to go.
My parents’ house isn’t an option. I don’t want them to know what happened.
If I tell my mom and dad about a problem, it just creates another problem I need to deal with.
Karina is out, too—I’m not going to show up at her door while she’s sick.
Actually, none of my friends have much in the way of extra space.
Nor does my brother, but he’s the closest.
Yes, Eddie and Chantal’s place is my best bet. I can sleep on their couch while I figure out what to do about my living situation. I text Eddie to tell him that I’m coming over.
My brother is less than two years older than me, so he doesn’t remember life before I came along. Sure, he might be responsible for the scar on my ankle, as well as some terrible nicknames, but we’ve always had each other’s backs. I know he’ll be understanding.
Adrenaline is still coursing through my body as I reach the subway station and maneuver my suitcase down to the southbound platform.
I can’t believe I’m in this situation. It’s certainly worse than the other time I caught someone cheating on me.
That boyfriend I kept a secret from my mother?
Three days after she found out about him, I saw him kissing another girl at school.
(Not a friend of mine; I didn’t even know her name.) Macy was outraged on my behalf, which I find grimly amusing now.
My head continues to buzz as I ride the subway. All I can focus on is getting to Eddie and Chantal’s apartment—and that does take some determination. As I approach their building on foot, my pace slows. I’m starting to tire. But there’s a familiar Black woman by the door, taking out her keys.
“Chantal!” I shout.
She turns. “Zoe? I didn’t know you were coming.”
I jog toward her, the sight of someone I know giving me a surge of energy. “Uh, yeah. Something happened, and I’ll need to crash with you two for a few nights.”
Her brows knit together. “What’s wrong?” she asks in a soft voice.
Eddie and Chantal have been together for seven years, and they got married in the spring. I’d only just started dating Clifton, and I didn’t bring him to the wedding. Now, I’m very, very glad for that decision. How awkward would it be to see him in the pictures?
“I’d rather tell you and Eddie together,” I say.
We ride the elevator up to the twelfth floor. As soon as we step inside the apartment, Eddie greets us. He glances at my suitcase, then looks back at my face.
“What happened?” he asks. “Do you need wine?”
He knows me well.
“Please,” I say.
A few minutes later, the three of us are seated in the living room with glasses of white wine. Mine is much fuller than everyone else’s.
“I was supposed to have drinks with a friend after work,” I say, “but she’s sick. So, I got home earlier than expected and found Macy and Clifton having sex.”
“No,” Chantal whispers, her hand going to her mouth.
“What the fuck?” Eddie mutters.
You see? We’re definitely siblings. We look alike, too—and not in the way that some white people, like Macy’s mother, think all Asian people look alike.
“Obviously,” I say, “I couldn’t stay there.”
Macy’s parents own the place, so if one person is going to leave, it’s me. I didn’t worry too much about that when I moved in—we’d been friends for ages, after all—but now…
“You can stay here as long as you need.” Eddie doesn’t suggest I go to our parents’ house, even though they have more space. He understands precisely why that’s not an option.
I take a sip of my wine, then burst into tears. I can’t hold them back any longer, and it’s a relief to let them out. Slumping against the back of the couch, I let myself wallow in self-pity for a minute.
Eddie shifts closer and puts his arm around me, while Chantal reaches for a box of tissues.
“That piece of shit,” he says. “What do you want me to do to him?”
My brother’s joking—I can’t imagine him doing more that squashing a mosquito.
At least, I think he’s joking.
I shake my head and pour more wine down my throat. Then I grab a tissue.
Look forward, I remind myself. I should focus on fixing my living situation and moving onward, not on the betrayal by both Macy and Clifton. What good will come from dwelling on that? I don’t need to get back at them.
Although it is tempting…
“I took his phone,” I say suddenly. “Just grabbed it on the way out. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ll keep it for a few days, I guess.”
Chantal nods. “He deserves it.”
She and Eddie look at each other with those meaningful glances that couples sometimes exchange. I can’t help feeling a little envious, but I paper it over with a smile and more wine.
“What do you want to do tonight?” Eddie asks.
Well, spray-painting flowers on Clifton’s car sounds appealing, as does shrinking Macy’s favorite sweaters in the dryer.
“Get drunk,” I reply instead.
Surely, by tomorrow, my desire for revenge will be a thing of the past.
I was wrong.
On Saturday evening, I continue to think about revenge as I toss and turn on Eddie and Chantal’s couch. Whenever I close my eyes, I see Macy riding Clifton on one of our kitchen chairs, and it isn’t conducive to falling asleep.
With a sigh, I pick up my phone. I’ve gotten another text.
Macy: You really need to return Clifton’s phone. This isn’t like you. Why are you being so immature?
I’m the one who’s immature? Really?
Then I focus on the rest of the message.
This isn’t like you.
True, I rarely get angry, but what did she think would happen when I found out about her and Clifton? Was she really convinced they’d get away with it? Did Clifton plan to break up with me and switch to dating Macy?
I don’t know the answers to any of these questions, though it seems like she counted on me being forgiving. But she can’t truly expect me to remain her best friend and roommate, can she?
It’s not like I’m a doormat—I state my thoughts and feelings—though I make a point of not dwelling on the negative. On looking forward, not back.
Where has that gotten me?
I’m thirty years old. My boyfriend just cheated on me with my best friend, and I’m sleeping on my newlywed brother’s couch.
It’s not exactly what I want out of life.
I wasn’t set on being married by my thirtieth birthday, but I did assume I’d be in a long-term relationship. I wouldn’t have a history of relationships that never worked out.
And I wouldn’t have also lost my longest friendship.
I think back to my birthday in March. I had plans with my family on the weekend after, but Macy insisted we do something on the actual day.
I picked out a restaurant that I’d been dying to try, but she pouted and suggested another place.
One of her favorites. They were about the same price, so it wasn’t because of the cost. I’d argued for the first restaurant, but she continued to resist, so I tamped down my irritation and agreed to her suggestion.
Though I didn’t let it bother me then, it bothers me now. It was my thirtieth birthday!
Next, I recall our trip to New York last year.
It’s not as if every single thing we did was her idea and my suggestions were always shot down—but it’s pretty close.
Most of the time, I was the one making compromises, telling myself it was no big deal.
We never left Manhattan, even though there were multiple things I wanted to see elsewhere.
As I think of it now, I feel slightly nauseated. Why was I so accommodating?
Yeah, I’m not going to be that person anymore. I’m also not going to be like my mom, who holds things against me that I did when I was five, but surely, it’s fair to hold a grudge against Macy and Clifton. It’s fair to want a little revenge.
Me: I’ll return it tomorrow evening when I come by to grab more of my stuff.
I’m not sure where I’m going to put it all, but I can figure that out tomorrow. I just need to get it out of there as soon as possible because I don’t trust Macy. Maybe I’ll ask Karina if I can keep some things at her place.
Macy: You’re moving out?
Me: Obviously
Macy: Where are you going to live???
Me: Why do you care? If you really cared, you wouldn’t have slept with my boyfriend.
She stabbed me in the back, and I can’t pretend otherwise.
Me: And if you say I owe you rent for October, I’ll tell your parents what happened.
Macy: You wouldn’t! That’s not fair.
Ha! It’s pretty rich for her to be talking about fairness right now.
Me: I absolutely would.
She’ll have to suffer some consequences, and that will be my revenge. Finding another roommate who will put up with her might not be easy, and I know she can’t afford the place by herself.
However, that only hurts Macy, not Clifton. Unless they stay together. Then maybe she’d ask him for money—or if he wants to move in with her.
Still, it’s not enough. I need him to suffer.
As soon as the words enter my mind, I feel guilty. These thoughts are against my nature.
Except I’m turning over a new leaf. I’m going to do a better job of sticking up for myself and making people pay if they deserve it.
I wonder if Clifton ever cheated on a girlfriend before. I think of him sitting on the couch in his boxers, unbothered by the situation, and it pisses me off.
We were supposed to be sipping cider on a patio today, and now…ugh.
He ruined all my plans for autumn!
Of course, given what a piece of shit he turned out to be, I’m glad our relationship is over, but I’m still pissed.
Clifton usually has a laidback charm, but I recall a situation that made him sweat: the time we encountered one of his exes while on a date. Though he tried to play it cool, it was clearly an effort. Later, he told me that she was a little unstable and that’s why he broke it off.
Now, I’m annoyed at myself for believing his words. Maybe he cheated on her and was afraid she’d warn me about him?
I don’t want to see his face again, but if I could encounter him in a situation where I had the upper hand, where I could make him sweat…that would be worth it.