still … something niggled
at her, making its way just under her skin.
“But you did
sleep with her. And you dated her behind my back,” she said in a
bitchier-than-intended tone.
“That was so
long ago. And I never cheated on you.”
Technically,
what he said was true. It didn’t stop the deceit from hurting, though. She felt
like all her memories of them together were now spoiled, like rotten fruit.
“After
everything we’ve been through. All the sacrifices and hard times—we can’t
throw all that away for something so insignificant. Just when things are
starting to go our way?” he said, voice wavering.
“Your way,”
she corrected, suddenly seeing things crystal clear. “I made sacrifices while you pursued
your career. I was the one sidelined because I gave up my body for our baby. I
supported you when no one else did.”
He was stunned
into silence.
“What have
you ever sacrificed for me?” she asked, genuinely curious.
“I … ” he
started.
“Nothing.
And you know what? It’s my fault. I never asked you for anything.”
“Jenna, I’ve
done nothing but love you. I’ve been honest and faithful to you. I had no idea
you felt you sacrificed so much for me. But you’re right; you should have said
something. I can’t read your mind,”
he said, righteous anger piercing his normally calm demeanor.
She ignored
it. “Well, I’m saying something now. I want you to get out of your record
contract. Ever since you signed it, you’ve been different, distant.”
“What?”
“You heard
me. If you want to make this relationship—and our family—work, then
we need you home with us. We need to know we come first.”
“Jenna, you
know I can’t do that.”
“You could
if you wanted to badly enough. We don’t need the money. But if you won’t, then
we don’t have anything else to talk about.”
“Please
don’t trivialize my career. You know it’s not that simple. I only have a month
left. Are you telling me you won’t wait one month?”
“I’m done
waiting.”
“Fine. I
guess there’s nothing I can do then.”
“I guess
not,” she seethed.
“And I think
I need to hang up before either of us says something we can’t take back.” With
that, he hung up.
The silence
felt heavy around her. Her hands shook with frustration, but she was torn
because a part of her felt … what? Free. Shouldn’t she be sad? Shouldn’t she
curse his name? Bitch to
girlfriends about him? Weren’t there supposed to be pints of ice cream and
chick flick marathons involved in this sort of thing? And then, that anvil
teetering high above flattened her again.
It wasn’t
him, it was her .
Yes, Alex was her best friend in the way that he was her partner. They shared a
life together, and a child, a bond like no other. But really, a girl’s true
best friend was always another girl. It was like losing true North on a compass. Without her, everything else felt arbitrary.
It could be
the girl she grew up with or the girl she met in college, or even the girl she
met at work. It didn’t matter where she met her—what mattered was that
she had someone to share her inner thoughts with. Someone to
be trusted with her inner demons. Someone who could take those demons
and tell her she was “absolutely right” and that whoever wronged her was “just
jealous.” The girl best friend could be trusted with the kind of nitty-gritty
talks she’d never share with her partner because she might hurt his feelings or
he might take something out of context. Those sticky things that would flare up
his insecurities made for easy, over-a-cup-of-coffee conversation with the girl
best friend. That was what made her indispensable.
When teenage
Jenna sunk to the bathroom floor with that wretched plus sign glaring up at
her, telling her that life as she knew it was over, she called Airika . Airika sat with her,
brought her food and magazines, painted her toenails, and told her it would all
be okay. Jenna would have
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