Mid-November, ten years ago #2
He had his arm around her waist, and was murmuring something in her ear as they entered and looked around the bar for a seat. Amy looked up at him with clear, shining eyes, and he beamed back at her.
Shit.
Rufus resumed scanning the room, and eventually locked eyes with me.
His expression visibly dropped. He clearly hadn’t been expecting to see me there.
He gave me an unreadable expression, just for a moment, then ushered his partner to the other end of the long table.
He sat on the same side as me, on the banquette facing the room, so I couldn’t even catch his eye again.
A clenched ball of something dark lodged in my stomach. This is what it felt like to have an affair, to be lying to everyone around you, and for your lover to be lying to his partner. It was the first time I’d really felt it.
I stayed quiet the rest of the evening, hating being there, but for some reason not wanting to leave. Maybe because I didn’t want to let Rufus off the hook, make it easy for him.
And because I ached for him. For his attention. A secret smile, even just a flirtatious glance. I’d gotten so used to him making me feel like I was the only woman in the room, like he couldn’t take his eyes off me, no matter how wrong it might be. Now I felt invisible, a ghost.
I had to communicate with him somehow. But a visit to the restroom, including some prolonged hovering near the doorway and pointed gazes in his direction while I was standing chatting with someone else, yielded no results.
On my return, I sat back down at the table, frustratedly downing my fourth drink way too fast. Ben was mid-flow in a story about a show he’d been in as an undergrad, with several female cast members hanging on his every word.
He seemed to be enjoying himself. Bonnie, more observant, gave me a puzzled look, but turned back to her conversation with the lighting guy.
It was no use — I’d have to text Rufus.
I tried to play it cool.
Hey handsome. Are you ignoring me? I hope not!! Meet me by the accessible restroom at exactly 10:30. I’ll go wait there a few minutes earlier. ;) M xox
No reply.
But then, maybe he couldn’t reply, with her right there. He’d probably just say nothing and come to the bathroom.
At 10:27, I excused myself again and headed for the restrooms. I fixed my lip gloss in the women’s mirror, then stepped back out into the corridor next to the accessible washroom.
But 10:30 came and went, according to the clock on the wall, as did 10:35.
I’d foolishly left my phone on the table, so I couldn’t send another text to see where he was.
I waited ten full minutes before I could no longer reasonably stay hanging out suspiciously in the restroom corridor, and returned to the table.
By this point, I was almost shaking with frustration and hurt.
I sat heavily, and slurped down the last of my drink. Bonnie and Ben, sitting opposite me, were now the only ones left on our section of the table.
Why were they staring at me like that?
Ben broke the silence.
“You got a couple of texts.”
Oh shit.
My flip phone was open on the table. Open to the text messages, displayed in big, easy-to-read type for all to see.
“We didn’t mean to look,” said Bonnie, her expression severe, “but it was doing that annoying beeping and I thought it might be important.”
I glanced down at my phone. Two replies had come in since I’d been away from the table.
RUFUS CELL [10:29PM]
So sorry, sexy girl. You know I can’t with Amy here. I’ll make it up to you, I swear. Let’s meet up off campus sometime soon. A whole night in a city hotel, just us. I’ll make an excuse to be away. Just can’t talk tonight.
RUFUS CELL [10:32PM]
Miss you and your sweet pussy. You know I’m crazy about you, right? xo
Fuuuccckkk.
I couldn’t even look up from my phone at my two most important people, who were silently bearing down the harshest imaginable judgment on me. I shook my head and stared at the cardboard coaster on the table instead.
“Life’s Good on Bright Side!” the coaster’s logo mocked, its happy, illustrated couple sipping on Bright Side coolers on some tropical beach. I picked at its corner with my fingernail, separating the damp fibers.
“I’m so sorry,” I finally said, my voice tiny.
Bonnie sat back in her chair with an audible sigh. “Seriously, Mill? A professor? And a married one at that? What the hell are you—”
“He’s not married,” I objected, pathetically. “Just . . . you know. Cohabiting.”
“Oh. Well.” Bonnie had a mean, sarcastic tone I hadn’t heard before. “That’s totally fine, then.”
“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” Ben’s voice was uncharacteristically dark. I looked up at him, but he was glaring furiously down the long table at Rufus, who was laughing loudly.
I reached my hand out toward Ben, but he ignored me. “Please. Don’t do anything, or say anything. Let’s just go, okay? I’ve had too much to drink anyways. Take me and Bon back to the dorm?”
Ben finally turned to me, an unrecognizable fire in his hazel eyes. His gaze met mine, and the fire smoldered a little. “He’s an asshole. And you’re a goddamn idiot.”
“I know.” I shook my head, and a tear dropped unexpectedly from the corner of my eye. I brushed it rapidly away and rose, grabbing my winter coat. “I know. Let’s go.”
I gave Rufus a backwards glance as we left the bar, and he graced me with a flash of a look in return. A tiny, sheepish, fraction of an apology.
We were silent on the return back to the dorms, with me in the back of Ben’s car, no words coming to me that wouldn’t make this situation worse. It had never been awkward to be in their company before.
Had I just screwed up my best friendships ever?
In the rearview mirror, Ben scowled as he pulled up outside our residence. I opened the door to the frigid November night and got out without a goodbye, as Bonnie got out of the passenger seat. As I was closing the door, he said one thing.
“Swear you’ll end it.”
The door slammed before I could even respond. Ben drove off, the exhaust pushing great plumes of steam in the night air, leaving me and my best friend in a deep, heavy silence.