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No explanation. No excuse. Nothing.
I can’t believe she doesn’t even want to be my friend? Boy, I read the room wrong on that one too, because what the hell has she been playing at all these months? What were we doing last weekend?
“You are the most frustrating, confusing woman on the planet.”
“Me?” She points at her chest.
“Yes!” I throw my head back and stare at the ceiling. My attempt to be calm flies right out the window. “Well, isn’t this just the fucking cherry on top of the cake.”
“Don’t swear at me!”
“I’m not swearing at you. I’m swearing at me!” I point at myself.
How did I let myself get so tangled with her? As if I didn’t think she could hurt me anymore, suddenly she has. I get not wanting someone to be their spouse. Marriage isn’t for everyone, but to say she doesn’t even want to be my friend? I just can’t.
Taking a deep breath, I rub my hand over my face to hide my heartache and compose myself. The fatigue I feel is bone-deep, which means hers is too. I remind myself tonight isn’t about me. It’s about her, and hopefully, her emotions are just running high.
“Don’t worry, Cora, I heard you the first time. The message was received loud and clear. But will you at least consider going to one of your friends’ houses until this smell is lessened? It would really make me feel better.”
I don’t want to fight with her; I want to fight for her, but nothing good is going to come out of tonight.
“I’ll be fine here.”
I let out a deep sigh. Realizing there’s no convincing her otherwise, I start making my way toward the door. You can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.
At least not tonight.
I’ll have to try again tomorrow.
“What do you mean you heard me the first time?”
I turn and face her. “I heard you. I stood right there when you told your brother you’d never marry me.” I point at the spot.
“That’s not what I said.”
“Yes, it is. You said you would never marry someone he picked for you, and he had literally just picked me. He made this whole big scene about it, and you said no. And that’s fine, but maybe you should have told me first. I would have done a lot of things differently.”
Her eyes are large, and she’s shaking her head like she doesn’t understand. “I don’t know what to say and what do you mean differently? I didn’t realize we were at the ‘I do’ phase of our very short affair.”
“That is all it was to you, right? An affair?” I had to ask even though I probably shouldn’t have.
“It wasn’t, but correct me if I’m wrong, we”—she waves her uninjured hand back and forth between us—“just happened. No declarations had been made. I didn’t even know if we were going to be a ‘we.’ You never said anything to me, much less getting married.”
“I guess we’ll never know now, will we?”
That’s the hurt talking, so it’s time for me to go.
She straightens her spine and stares at me. “I guess we won’t.”
Not needing to hear or say any more, I take my lovesick heart and make my way to the front door. I’ve just stepped onto the porch when she says, “And just so you know, I know exactly when you left that day. If you had stuck around like you’d offered, then you would have heard me not only tell my brother that I would never marry someone he chose for me but also, that if I did decide to marry, it would be because I chose them. Me.”
With that, she slams the door in my face.
32
CORA
My arm hurts.
