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“You let me feed this man, and he was insane this whole time?” She turned her accusing eyes on me. “How could you?”
I laughed. “Are you really about to be mad that he had the audacity to be a misogynist while he ate $5 pizza?”
She joined my laughter. Finally, she shook her head. “But seriously, what are you gonna do about Michael? You two cannot possibly sustain this pattern. It’s not healthy.”
I sighed. “Well, we’ll have to work it out somehow,” I said. “We vowed to be together through sickness and health, better or worse. Our worse just showed up a lot quicker than I was expecting.”
“A lot quicker,” Cat agreed. She shot me a sympathetic look. “Look, I know Michael is out of his mind—almost literally—with jealousy and caveman tendencies right now but you should talk to him. Y’all can’t start out like this; it’ll cause problems down the road.” She stood up and stretched. “And if you’re ever gonna get over Andrew”—I shot her a look but she continued as if she didn’t see it—“you’re gonna need to have one, strong fuckin’ marriage.”
* * *
“He’s not wrong.”
I turned to Andrew with my ice cream halfway to my mouth. It was the day after my big blowup with Michael and subsequent conversation with Cat, and I had needed to clear my head. So, as usual, I picked up my only vice—ice cream—and headed to the place that had always comforted me. Unfortunately for me, Andrew had the same idea.
My heart raced as I thought about the implications of what Andrew was saying. Against all reason, I hoped that Andrew’s statement meant that Michael wasn’t wrong about Andrew’s feelings for me. I shot down this hope with one thought: It’s too late; I’m already married.
As I gathered myself, I looked at Andrew. “What do you mean by that?” I asked.
“I haven’t been his best advocate.” Andrew considered his ice cream for a moment before taking a casual swipe at it with his tongue. I watched the movement, trying not to be envious of the dessert. “He wants you to live and die here. He sees no issue with telling you not to be yourself. He doesn’t seem to want you to be better or to do better. If he could, he would convince your mom’s old firm to rehire you so you can be the good little trophy wife he wants, with no ambition and no other options. He consistently puts his feelings first, even when you have something tragic happen, like your dad being in the hospital.” He shrugged, looking out over the field at our park. “I’m starting to feel like I hate the guy.”
I frowned at my Converses, kicking a patch of grass near the park bench. “How can you hate him when you barely know him?”
“I know enough.” He looked at me from the corner of his eye. “And I know you.”
“Used to know me.” I steadily avoided his eyes. “Things change, Andrew. Maybe I like the way things are with Michael.” Maybe if I deny it to Andrew, I thought, I can put this notion of Andrew liking me to bed once and for all.
“Maybe? Or you do?”
“I do.” I avoided his eyes.
“Alicia.”
My eyes immediately found his again.
“No bullshit. Do you like the way things are with Michael?”
I sighed, giving up the ruse. I couldn’t lie to Andrew any more than I could lie to myself. “No.” My voice was quiet. “I don’t.”
“What do you really think about all of this?”
I sighed. “It’s like I’m moving from one leash to another.” Andrew looked at me with raised eyebrows. I frowned. “Wow. I didn’t mean to say that aloud.”
“Well, you did, so…” He leaned forward without breaking eye contact with me. “What’s going on with you, Ace? Why are you with this guy?”
I thought back to that day two years ago, when Michael found me crying. “Michael’s been there, you know?” I sighed and toyed with the end of my sleeve. “He and I met when I was in the worst of it. The aftermath of our friendship,” I said, gesturing between me and Andrew. “He helped me feel whole again. He’s safe. And despite what you may think, he does actually love me for the person that I am.”
“Okay, and I can see that you truly believe that,” Andrew said. I frowned again. “But you do realize that he didn’t actually make you whole, right?”
“I didn’t feel like a whole person before then, so who’s to say?”
“Ace, you are your own person, a whole person, and you’ve been that way all your life.” He turned to me, his eyes adamant, his shoulders stiff. “You didn’t need him to make you that way. You don’t need him to do it now, either. And other than him being there in hard times, being “safe,” as you say, what else has he done for you? And was he actually helpful, or was he just there?”
I sighed again. “I know what you’re getting at, Andrew, I do,” I said. “But you don’t get it.”
He shrugged and faced forward again. “Maybe I do get it,” he said. He was quiet for a moment before he said, “What happened between us, Ace? How did we get here?”
I laughed, the sound falling flat on the pavement. I stood up to stretch my hands to the sky and turned to him, the scorn making its way into my voice.
