Chapter 5 #2
I glare at her, beyond irritated. I know she won’t stop poking until I tell her, so I finally let it out. He cheated, alright? I hope you’re happy now!
I can feel Val looking at me. Rosalie scrunches her brow, flipping her blonde locks over her shoulder.
That’s so awful for you, she says, her words dripping with fake empathy. Although you probably should have seen that one coming, dating someone called Casanova.
I inhale slowly through my nose, exhale through my mouth, and taste the alcohol on my lips. The alcohol that’s tasting better tonight than it ever has before. A wrinkle of concern appears between Val’s dark eyebrows as he studies my face. He’s never looked at me like this before.
It's Dante, I finally say, correcting Rosalie.
She grabs a handful of mixed nuts, popping them into her mouth one at a time. Ah well, I’ve never thought names were all that important, really, she replies through smacking lips.
Makes sense for someone with the brain capacity of a squished amoeba to struggle to remember names, I mumble. My voice is so quiet that she can’t hear what I said.
It feels like Val is still looking at me.
I always assume something isn’t right in a relationship if one of the parties is cheating, Rosalie continues, undeterred.
She crushes a fifth nut between her teeth with extra violent force.
You don’t cheat when you’re happy with the other person.
Maybe there’s a lack of love or attention .
. . This might sound harsh, but I just don’t believe there’s only one party at fault when that kind of thing happens.
I want to snatch the nuts from her hand, shove them into a Nerf gun, and fire them at her one after the other.
I know that what she’s saying isn’t true.
Cheating is a choice. If you’re not happy in a relationship, you’re supposed to talk things over before demonstrating your procreative abilities to someone else.
Even so, I can hear Dante’s you stopped having any time for me and you were constantly working overtime ringing through my mind.
For the first time, I allow myself to feel a little unsure.
Should I have been more attentive? Could I have prevented all of this?
Was I a bad girlfriend? I swallow and feel my eyes go damp.
Excuse me, I say, before spinning around, trying to fight my way through the crowd of drunk and dancing coworkers.
Oh, I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong? I hear Rosalie shout after me.
The alcohol plus the reality of Dante’s cheating is starting to kick in with a vengeance.
I head for the exit and push the door wide open.
The January wind feels refreshing as it hits my overheated cheeks.
I let out a deep sigh, then fill my lungs with cold air.
Leaning against the white brick wall, I look up at the night sky.
Despite the city’s light pollution, I can clearly see the stars above.
Hearing the door open again, I look over to find Val standing in the doorway.
There’s concern in his eyes as they scan my face.
He walks over and stands by my side to look up at the sky together.
His right arm is nearly touching me and I feel his warmth draw into my clammy skin.
I look at him, his long lashes touching so close to his eyebrows as he gazes up at the stars.
The Little Dipper looks extra bright tonight, he states. His Adam’s apple works up and down as he speaks. The North Star, too. I’ve always been fascinated by the universe. How about you? He’s looking at me now.
I’m not sure how to respond and I swallow, stray tears still tracing down my cheeks.
Val frowns and there’s a beat of silence before he speaks.
It wasn’t your fault, Hannah. Cheating is something you do on your own behalf, not because of anyone else.
It’s selfish and hurtful. In a relationship, you have to want to give more than you take.
And ideally, both people feel the same way about it.
I swallow again. I can’t help but feel it’s ironic to be taking relationship advice from someone who—according to Rosalie—is a first-rate womanizer. But I know he’s right.
I caught him in a supply closet with someone else at a New Year’s Eve costume party, I admit in a quiet voice. He was having sex with some pigeon-of-paradise. Apparently they’d been hooking up for six months already. It started the same month we moved in together—I saw the update on Facebook.
We let another silence settle between us. Tears are streaming down my face now, remembering that moment. All those happy moments, like picking out furniture and painting our bedroom wall an ochre yellow, they suddenly feel so hollow.
Oh Hannah . . . he says gently. What an awful thing to go through.
I look up at him and there’s sincere compassion in his eyes.
I had no idea . . . he continues. Is that why you’ve been so distracted lately?
Dropping my gaze, I nod. Now that I’m looking back on it all, I really don’t understand what I ever saw in that guy, I say softly.
My whole place is full of designer atrocities.
I don’t even like any of that stuff. We bought the most pointless crap.
There’s the milk frother we used exactly once.
And the carrot sharpener. What the hell am I supposed to do with a carrot sharpener?
A carrot sharpener?
Yep. I guess you use it to sharpen the ends of carrots?
Because their natural pointy ends just aren’t stabby enough?
Apparently it’s ‘a must in the modern kitchen’.
I breathe out a heavy, frustrated sigh. And he owned so many clothes, always insisting on expensive designer pieces.
He’s obsessed with status—apparently an Armani suit is the perfect counterbalance for anything that might undermine his ego.
And he owned all these pretentious, snobby shoes.
Those dressy suede things with the little tassels.
Val takes a step back to look down. When I follow his gaze, I find he’s wearing an exact replica of Dante’s shoes.
Sorry. They look great on you, I apologize.
The corner of this mouth pulls up. I’m not sure I can take that as a compliment after that rant, he says.
I mirror his smile and let out a deep sigh, my breath condensing in the air between us.
Do you know what it is . . . I say, staring out ahead of me.
As a little kid, you’re taught that one day you’ll meet a prince who will save you from your room at the top of the tower and slide your foot into a glass slipper.
By the time you reach high school, you start to realize the world isn’t quite as romantic as you’d always imagined.
And once you see your great love getting frisky with the evil stepsisters in your grade, you finally realize that Disney got it all wrong.
The prince doesn’t end up with the sweet girl who’s always cleaning and talking to animals.
He ends up with the self-assured girl who shatters the glass slipper before you ever get to try it on.
As I gaze up at the stars, I notice a yellow line tracing through the sky.
And even then, you keep believing that somewhere out there, there’s a person for you, I continue.
One man who will want you just the way you are.
Who’s accepting of your standing monthly plans to stuff yourself with chocolate and who’s understanding when you snap at him for asking you what’s wrong.
Who doesn’t look at you funny whenever you cry about Jack drowning in Titanic, even on your sixtieth viewing.
Or when you scream at Rose in frustration to just scoot her butt to the left a little so he can float around on that ridiculous door with her.
I interrupt my monologue to look at Val. His expression is warm.
I guess I’m starting to believe that man doesn’t exist, I whisper. I’m twenty-nine now and I’ve only ever dated lumps of coal.
A careful smile appears on his face as he speaks. Instead of polished diamonds, you mean?
They don’t even need to be polished, honestly. I’d welcome a diamond in the rough any day. I let out another heavy sigh.
It’s all going to be okay. Val pats my shoulder awkwardly.
You’re clearly not new to crying women, I chuckle.
He remains silent as his expression turns to guilt.
I think this needs to be a penis-free year for me, I continue in a determined voice, speaking more to myself than to him. I cringe for a second, realizing I just said penis to my boss, then decide to stop talking.
Val seems to shift his position a little, but I’m afraid to look at him.
Sounds like a plan, he eventually replies.