Chapter Forty-One #3
She turned to me, eyes welling with tears. “Brody’s awake. He just yelled out that he was going for coffee.”
“So glad he didn’t die of alcohol poisoning,” I said, relaxing slightly against the headboard.
She shook her head. “He can’t know. He can never know. Eli, I need this—” Frantically, she waved her hands between us. “To never get to him.”
I slid to the edge of the bed and then asked a question best left unspoken. “Why? He quite literally dared us to get married last night.”
She spun around and wound her hand in circles, like that might make the words come easier. “Because—because he’s our friend and I don’t want this to hurt him.”
Tugging my boxer briefs up, I stood and walked around the bed to her. Anger twisted in my chest like a ratchet, growing tighter and tighter. “You don’t want to hurt him or your chances with him?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She wore her surprise well, but I noticed the way her lips trembled, and I knew I’d hit on something.
“Oh, come the fuck on. Seriously? You’re in love with him, Vera. Admit it.”
She was practically panting with anxiety but said nothing.
I wanted this to hurt her as much as it did me. “Answer me this: What man dares another guy to marry the girl he’s in love with?”
She pulled the sheets tighter against her chest, and her nostrils flared as her breaths came quicker. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Her admission—or rather lack of denial—felt like a serrated knife to the gut. “What is there to understand? Your world revolves around a guy who views you as a convenience. Need help with an assignment? Call Vera. Need an ego boost? Call Vera. Need a quick suck? Call Vera.”
Her jaw dropped then and she was frozen for a moment before she roared right back.
“What are you saying, Eli? Because what it sounds like you’re saying is that Brody, or anyone else for that matter, could never love someone like me.
And don’t pretend like you’re incapable of using people.
Don’t pretend like you’re above it. You don’t even like me, but you sure didn’t mind fucking me just a few hours ago. ”
“And you let me do it.” The words were out before I could stop them. My whole body was on the verge of seizing. What was I doing? How had this devolved so quickly?
“I might be in love with someone who doesn’t return those feelings,” she said in a quiet but fierce tone.
“But at least I’m not out here living some color-by-numbers life.
Do you even want to go to med school, Eli?
Who the fuck are you? Do you even know? Maybe I don’t know what I want or who I am, but at least I’m brave enough to ask. To hope.”
“How noble of you,” I said. “How brave of you to have no direction or ambition.”
She looked pleased, like I’d just proven her right.
“You know what, Eli? You’re a mean fucking son of a bitch. You’re miserable, and the only thing that makes you remotely happy is bringing everyone else down with you.”
Her words hit me in rapid succession, each one landing like a bullet.
And it hurt, because it was true. I was miserable.
I did hate seeing her and Brody happy. Even if their affections were unevenly matched.
Even if it was complicated. There was still joy.
I was hurt, and just like she’d said, I would only feel a glimmer of anything if I could bring her down with me.
“He’ll never love you,” I said, hoping my words haunted her for the rest of her life.
“He’ll drain you, Vera. And you’ll let him.
You’ll let him soak up all that love you have for him just for a fraction of affection in return.
If you can’t see that—if you can’t want more for yourself—then maybe that’s what you deserve. ”
“Go,” she said sternly.
“I’m gone,” I told her as I pulled my pants on and grabbed my shoes.
My heart felt like it had been put through a meat grinder and I needed to get as far away from her as I possibly could.
The closer she was, the more this hurt. The more irreparable the damage would become.
“You’ll get the annulment papers in the mail.
Sign them and you’ll never have to see me again. ”
I allowed myself one last look at her. Wild curls and pillow lines still pressed into her cheek. Eyes wide and wet as tears began to spill. “Go,” she screamed again, and threw my shirt at me.
“Gone.” I quickly grabbed the rest of my clothes, my shoes, and my wallet before walking out of the bedroom and slamming the door shut behind me.
The living room of the suite was a mess. Brody had created a pallet on the floor with the couch cushions. He had a bathroom trash can and an ice bucket staged as puke receptacles.
I could fucking kill him. I didn’t care about the mess.
I cared that he had to go and ruin everything.
I cared that because of his idiotic dare, I could no longer just exist in Vera’s world.
I could no longer enjoy the painful pleasure of hovering in the backdrop of her life.
Even if we hadn’t just fought, there was no going back.
I’d had her last night, and it was an experience I could never unlearn.
There was no way I could go back to how things had been. And it was his fault.
I grabbed the backpack I’d brought with me for the trip and yanked a T-shirt on over my head.
For a moment, I stood there at the door, waiting to see if maybe she might come after me. Even if it was only to yell at me again. I already missed her. But the only thing I found was more silence.
I forced myself to turn the doorknob and walk out into the hallway. I’d purposefully left my room key on the counter so I couldn’t let myself back in. The temptation would be too strong.
As I walked the endless corridor to the elevator bank, I let my anger grow until it was immovable. Uncompromising. I turned the corner and there was Brody with a coffee and a huge water bottle.
“Hey, man,” he said. “Vera up yet? I don’t know if you guys heard me say I was going down for coffee.”
I walked right at him, shedding my bag and the rental shoes dangling from my fingers, and shoved him against the wall.
He dropped the water bottle and the coffee, which had to be one of the least offensive things to happen to this carpet in its lifetime.
“What the fuck?” He shook his head. “I’m way too hungover for this shit.”
I crowded in, not letting him move off the wall, and gathered the collar of his shirt in my fists. “Fuck you, Brody.”
“I’m obviously missing something here. Let’s go back to the—”
“You ruined everything last night with that stupid dare. You know she fucking loves you, right?”
That last sentence didn’t even faze him, and that pissed me off even more. His mouth lifted into a smirk, and he rolled his eyes. “What happened with you guys last night, anyway? I barely remember anything after the wedding.”
“She loves you and you dared me to marry her. Are you hearing me right now, you thick motherfucker? Do you know how fucked up that is? People aren’t just puppets for your entertainment.”
“Vera doesn’t love me like that.” But even he sounded barely convinced.
“You know that’s not true. Not only that, but you are constantly taking advantage of that love. And now—”
“Oh my god,” he said.
I wanted to punch the damn smile off his face.
“You like her.” He shook his head. “No, you love her. No fucking way! You’re such a moody shit bag when she’s around.”
I’d wasted the last year. Not only did Vera think I hated her, but so did Brody, the least intuitive person I knew. “My feelings for her don’t matter. There’s no room for them.” I stepped back and finally let go of his shirt.
He slumped against the wall, smoothing out his collar. But he was silent, which meant he knew I was right. I didn’t even realize it was possible to weaponize incompetence until I’d met Brody. It encouraged Vera to either do everything for him or hold his hand like he was a child.
“You need to tell her,” he said. It was the last thing I expected to hear from him. But there was no fixing what I’d just done.
I shook my head and grabbed my stuff from the floor. Telling her would never make a difference.
“One day,” I said, “you’re going to wake up and realize she’s given you everything.
Every part of herself. And she’ll hate you for it, because you just take and take and take.
” I closed my eyes, my throat dry and aching from talking too much so soon after waking up.
“Let her go,” I begged him. “Let her go before she has nothing left to give.”
Brody propped his elbows up on his knees and turned his head away from me, refusing to answer.
I went straight to the airport and took the first flight back to LA. I was moved out of my and Brody’s room before he could even make the drive back.
Then I called my mom. She helped me convince the family lawyer to handle this as quietly as possible without involving my father and to bill her directly. The only evidence was the album I’d stuffed into my backpack and couldn’t bring myself to throw away.
It was as if it never happened. A brief memory that walked the line between reality and fantasy. My marriage to Vera Stein.