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Before the break of dawn, I ordered myself a cab from Aspen, loaded my bags into the trunk, and instructed the driver to take me to the airport, leaving the guys and what was supposed to be a romantic and playful holiday behind. It’s been a few days, now, and I’m back at The Sartorialist. Etienne was surprised to see me back so early, and even more surprised when I asked if I could pick up some extra holiday shifts. With Christmas just days away and my desperate need to find myself a new place, I could use the extra cash. Part of me regrets that I didn’t take Matthew up on his offer, but dammit—I already received enough heartache out of the whole deal. The last thing I need is to live in his place as a tenant.
Whatever they had with Cynthia was serious enough to leave unmendable deep scars, and because of that, with them was not a good place for me to be. My heart tells me that I’m being foolish and proud, but I’ve got enough trauma in my backpack to keep me away from them. I’m done putting myself last, and I’m done being a victim of circumstances that are out of my control. They need to deal with their issues without dragging me into their mess. And I need some peace of mind.
Spending my nights at the store again isn’t what I had in mind, but at the end of the day, it beats the silence and the tension that had engulfed the cabin. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss them. My whole body aches. My heart bleeds, and my soul cries out for them. I’ve fallen deeply for all three. They each occupied an important space in my life and my heart, and now I need to clean everything up. I need to get them out of my system. It was a bad idea—getting emotionally involved. I should’ve stuck to the physical part and guarded myself from anything else.
But who am I kidding? They’re incredible guys. Strong, resilient, charming and kind, though their dark sides worry me. They don’t scare me, but those ghosts of theirs were starting to haunt me, too. Their lack of transparency where Cynthia was concerned ultimately bled into other aspects of our relationship. Perhaps it’s best that we separated now and not later. As much as it hurts, perhaps it will be easier on me going forward.
“Dinner for one,” I mutter to myself as I come back to the store with a bag of microwaved sandwiches from the 7-11 down the block and a pregnancy test in my purse. I have enough anxiety to power the entire Empire State Building.
My period is a few days late. It may be nothing, but considering how I spent the last month and a half it’s something I should consider. Actually, it’s something I should’ve considered much sooner, but the moments spent in Aspen clouded my judgment. I didn’t care. Everything about those guys is so hot and intense, so exhilarating and exciting, that I lost my rational thinking altogether—one more reason as to why I’m better off staying away from them.
I lock the store shutters and sit down at the counter to eat my food in silence. Unfortunately, I can barely stomach this pastrami sandwich. The smell alone is revolting, even though there is absolutely nothing wrong with it. I take a bite, and then another, but washing it down with sparkling water isn’t helping.
If this is morning sickness, then the universe is absolutely teaching me the foulest of lessons at the worst possible time. Better to know now than later, however, so I leave the food and head to the bathroom. The last thing I need is a positive result, with my life back in shambles.
Yet it’s a positive sign that I’m staring at twenty minutes later.
The nausea subsides into something far worse. A knot so tight in the pit of my stomach that I can barely breathe as I try to figure out what it is that I’m going to do. I’m still homeless and I’ve just walked away from three men who have touched my heart in ways I didn’t even think were possible. My job isn’t enough to keep me and a baby fed. The rent alone will cripple me because I’ll need a two-bedroom, now, instead of a studio.
“What the hell am I going to do?” I ask myself out loud.
Only silence and numbness answer as I curl up on the floor and cry my heart out. I didn’t need any of this, but I brought it on myself. I was so desperate to get away from Kieran and my financial situation, so eager to be around three men who excited me in all the right ways. I was so happy to be able to spend some time in a winter wonderland, in the company of three souls that made mine sing new songs, songs I didn’t even know it could sing. My body, my heart, and my spirit were in perfect sync, day after day, causing potential consequences to fade into the background, much like the rest of my life.
Now that I’m back to square minus one and unable to take my eyes off this wretched plus sign, every single unpleasant aspect of my life has returned to make me feel lonely, insignificant, and worthless. How the hell am I going to be a mother when I’m so thrown apart, so stretched all over the place and unable to pull myself back together?
My mom hasn’t returned any of my calls. She can spend the rest of her life in Florida and keep forgetting that I exist. I’m done trying to fix something unfixable, and I’m done feeling guilty for getting Maddie out of the house that night. I was a kid, and I shouldn’t be made to pay for a mistake until my very last breath. I’ve been living with Maddie’s ghost in my head for too long, and it’s the kind of weight that I can no longer carry. Not anymore. Not with this little thing growing in my womb and needing my full attention. Accidents happen. Maybe someday I will find a way to forgive myself for Maddie. I was the root cause, but ultimately the driver that T-boned us caused my sister to die.
As for my dad, he’s just as lost. But at least he’s trying to stay in touch. I can’t tell him about this. It’ll throw him for a loop, and the last thing he needs is chaos in the middle of yet another cleanup process. Thinking about his drinking problem throws me back to thoughts of Jason and his issues. Gosh, he must be tormented and restless, riddled with guilt and self-loathing. If only he’d let me in, if only he hadn’t gone downhill and made things worse between us. I could’ve helped him. I helped my father enough times to know how to pull a man back onto the proverbial wagon. I could’ve been Jason’s strength.
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” I whisper, the tears burning hot as they roll down my cheeks.
It really doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve made my choices, and now I have another mistake to work on. I have a baby to take care of. Sure, I’m homeless and lonely, miserable and heartbroken. I turned away from Matthew, Jason, and Sully, aggrieved by the fact that they haven’t resolved their issues with their pasts. My own ghosts are very much present, bearing down on my shoulders and making it harder for me to breathe.
Christmas is coming, and I have no decent option, no place to call home, no man to call my own. I had three, and I miss them terribly. But Matthew said I should leave so I left. I keep telling myself these things, over and over, hoping that they might make more sense if I think about them enough. They don’t, though, and I know they never will.
23
Sully
“You should’ve talked to us about it,” Jason says, sulking in one of the armchairs.
The cabin seems so empty and dull without Selina. I didn’t realize how much light and color she brought to this place. It’s only in her absence that the truth has emerged, that the impact she made becomes undeniable. The living room feels drab and cold, despite the fire crackling in the fireplace, the flames consuming each log with great hunger. We’ve been sitting here for the better part of an hour, finally reunited after days’ worth of solitude and isolation from one another—probably not the best idea after Matthew saw it fit to send Selina away. Jason and I have been trying to work on our issues in her absence but all we can do is miss her.
“I agree with Jason on that one,” I tell Matthew.
He sighs deeply, his shoulders dropping with the exhale as his gaze lingers on the fire. There’s a half-drunk glass of whiskey held loosely in one hand, the ice cubes melting and thinning the amber liquid with each absent-minded swirl. Jason licks his lips but manages to look away, determined not to hurt himself again like he did the other night. Instead, he takes a swig from his soda bottle and gives it a few seconds as it rolls down his throat before licking his lips again, this time with a glimmer of relief in his blue eyes. Things are getting better, I can see it on him. The tension, the guilt. They’re starting to fade away.
“Have you heard from her?” Jason asks. “She didn’t even say goodbye.”
“She left early, before any of us woke up. I wanted to give her a ride to the airport, but I guess she called herself a cab,” Matthew says.
“Dammit, man.”
“And she didn’t want to stay at your place in Providence, either” I scoff. “Proud woman, that one.”
“Can you blame her?” Jason replies, giving me a pained look. “Given the way we behaved…”
I give Matthew another glance. “We should’ve been firmer with Cynthia. You know this is all on her, right?”
