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“There’s nothing to apologize for, really. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Goodnight, Ruby.”
“Night.”
I hang up and exhale loudly, confused, but happy to be safely wrapped in the darkness of my own apartment, save for the strand of colorful lights on my little tree. Despite everything, sleep somehow manages to come.
ten
Iwakeuplaterthe next morning than I’d intended to, which isn’t necessarily detrimental, but with everything I had wanted to get done, I’m instantly frazzled. On top of that, I have a decent headache that reminds me of what had transpired just a few hours earlier with Alex, and how I had left it. Not surprisingly, I have about 10 texts from him, all of which seem to be saying the same thing—some version of how we need to talk.
But I don’t want to talk. I don’t know what to say, and I don’t know if I want to say anything at all. I have a good thing going on with Jake. He makes me happier than I’d expected to be with someone else. I feel hopeful even, sometimes, about what the future could hold for us, even though logically I have no idea what that would look like.
On the other hand, I’ve always wanted Alex. I’ve wanted him for so long that even though I don’t feel it like I used to, I think my brain is having trouble catching up with the idea that maybe I don’t need him after all. How do I reconcile that? Now, he’s saying that he wants to be with me, too. Part of me feels like this is something that could veritably exist and make sense in the outside world, and that I would be stupid to pass on it for something that, on paper, is so obviously not meant for me. Evie could be right, and Alex could just be manipulating me. Maybe he just likes having me there as an option, and if I were to go to him, ready to go all in, he’d get cold feet and walk back everything that he said, and then everything would be ruined.
But, there were the things that Evie didn’t see—that no one did. They didn’t know about the guy that would bring me dinner for no reason at all, or breakfast when he knew I was hungover. They didn’t see him when he would come over and watch all my favorite movies with me when I was sick, without complaining that they were the same ones we’d watched the last time. They didn’t know about all the late-night conversations that would end up lasting into the morning. We’d spend hours together,daystogether. And before him, I’d been so lonely for so long and felt so inadequate. Maybe it was just friendship, but for me, with my admittedly limited experience, it certainly felt like love.
I throw on the usual jeans and hoodie ensemble and pull my hair and all its curls into a bun, preparing once again to wow the city of Seattle with my commitment to fashion and looking my very best. I grab my laptop and bag, throw on my headphones, and head for the door. But when I open it, he’s standing there, looking like he was about to knock. Either that or punch me in the face.
“Hey,” is all he says. Maybe he came here to say that he was just drunk and none of it was real, and that he didn’t remember that he kind of said he loved me. I would have thought that was what I wanted so that everything could be normal again, but my heart drops into my stomach at the thought.
“Alex, I really do want to talk to you, but I have so much shit to do right now. I have a bunch of stuff I need to have transcribed by the end of the day, and then I have to work later…”And also, I don’t know what I want from you, or what I want to say to you.
“Ruby, I just want you to know that I meant what I said last night, every word of it.”
“Alex,” I bring both of my hands to cover my face, rubbing my head like he's the one who has given me this headache that I woke up with, hoping that this will both soothe it and give me a chance to calm my nerves. “What am I supposed to do with that? I have a boyfriend now, for once, and I am, or Iwas, pretty fucking happy. I’m also pretty fucking pissed that you chose this, of all times, to put this on me. And I’m not sure what to think about that, honestly.”
“So, you don’t feel the same way then?”
“I’m not—I don’t know. I’ve always had feelings for you, Alex. You knew that. Youalwaysfucking knew that. And then I met Jake and…I don’t know. I finally felt free of that; I felt like I could move on and actually be happy with someone else. That’s why I think this timing is so fucked up—"
“Break up with him, Ruby.”
“I really, really, have to go. I’m sorry.” I push past him towards the staircase and move quickly through the lobby and out the front door and into the rain. On my way to Rune, I’m lucky enough to get almost completely drenched by a bus speeding through a massive puddle. You know, the type of thing that only happens when your day is a mess and your insides are already dark and stormy, and it’s the very last thing you need. Something about the law of attraction, I wouldn’t really know.
Once inside, soaked and armed with a 6 shot americano, I’m able to sink back into my favorite corner and get to work on yet another side hustle. I disappear into a sea of people too busy and too distracted to notice me—my favorite way to disappear. I have three podcasts to transcribe, so that should keep my mind preoccupied until my shift tonight and hopefully help keep all thoughts of Alex and Jake and my general darkness at least somewhat at bay. I turn off my phone and try to get into that vibe, willing my inner voice to keep quiet.
My mind is also quiet when I’m making drinks and having quick, nothing conversations. Just like Rune, The Post Office is one of those safe spaces where I could always just exist in and rely on to be relatively the same every day. As a person that lacked a lot of basic comfort and stability in their life, I crave those kinds of places, those types of people, and this one paid the bills and helped me maintain my stable existence. Dane was like family, and Chuck and Aria, the other full-time bartenders, always made my shifts fun. Tonight, I got to work with Chuck. He was the kind of person that always managed to make everything funny, even when it went to shit. We’d have the worst shift or the shittiest customer and he’d make it into the kind of funny where, when you thought about it later, no matter where you were, you’d start laughing out loud like a total crazy person. He was doing it now, after I’d just gotten berated by a woman for apparently “splashing” her when I handed her a drink. There was something about how I’d done it because I was jealous. Instead of feeling angry or small, I felt fine laughing it off behind the bar with my friend.
And it was Friday. It didn’t mark the start of a traditional weekend for me like it probably did for most of the people in this bar, but still, there was always a certain energy that comes with it: one of release and letting go. I needed it, and I was soaking it in. It helped that I felt cute in my retro corduroy skirt, oversized black sweater, and chunky doc boots and the humidity was just right for my hair. There was a cute loner-type guy at the end of the bar who was laying it on pretty thick. At any other time in my life, I would have been all over that, but now, he was the very last thing that I needed. We also had Dane’s husband performing tonight. It wasn’t anything crazy like what I’d been to last night; we weren’t that venue. We were a small stage, karaoke or a DJ, acoustic guitar kind of set up with an old jukebox for backup kind of venue. Tonight, it was just Tomas and his guitar. He was amazing. I wonder why he only ever sings for us. I wonder if there was ever a time when he had sung for anyone else.
It’s half past midnight, and I’m living in my comfort zone when Aria, who is working the tables, comes up to me and tells me that there’s a cute guy in the corner that wants to buy me a shot and is asking what time I get off work, and she wants to know what she should tell him. Really? Two in one night? Why didn't this ever happen when I was carefree and lonely? I’m about to tell her to relay that I’m not interested, but I look in the direction she’s gestured towards and sure enough, it’s Jake. For just a second, I’m upset. He should have told me. He should have asked. I don’t know if I want to see him when I’m not sure what to do about Alex. I shoot him awhat are you doing herelook, but then he just smiles, and it undoes me. I feel like I’m a puddle on the floor instead of an actual person standing here, and that doesn’t happen when I’m around Alex. Alex makes me feel confused and desperate. At his whim, even. This feels different. Transparent, reciprocated. And in this moment, I’m so fucking glad to see his face because now I remember, and I know that choosing him is the right thing to do.
Until the next time I don’t see his face, probably.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, smiling one of those too-big smiles that feel unnatural on my face, as he walks sheepishly up to the bar. He wasn’t supposed to be back until the following evening.
“We were done. I missed you. I got an earlier flight. Are you mad?”
“No,” I say, even though I was a little bit mad. Knowing that that isn't a normal reaction to your boyfriend coming home early to see you, I don't say it. “Why would I be mad?”
“Because I knew you were working and wouldn’t be able to text, so I just kind of showed up here again. Stalker-like.”
I have a moment of cringe as I remember that I stalked his therapist and probably also his support person, before telling him, “You can’t stalk someone that wants you around, but I don’t get off work until two.”
“Oh so…do you want me to go, or…”
