Page 79 of Friend Zoned

“Path to forgiveness? Tell me you’re not that delusional. Would there be any forgiveness for me if I went out and fucked your friend for almost a year? I told you I would never put up with a cheating man. You knew that and you did it anyway. You’re right. I shut you out because the instant Camille opened the hotel room door wearing your shirt, our marriage was over. You didn’t get a choice. You weren’t going to use your used car salesman pitch on me. Or worse, try to gaslight me like you did just now. What the fuck was a therapist going to do? Was he or she going to erase your disgusting affair with Camille because you were mad that I went back to school? And why are you here? Again?” He opens his mouth to talk, but I cut him off. “Go to work or go be with your pregnant girlfriend.”

“You think I want that fucking baby? I don’t.” The words tumble out of his mouth, and he takes a step back. He looks around the room as if he’s stunned by his own admission. “I don’t want any of it.” He lowers his head. I don’t know if it’s in shame or despair. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I ended things with Camille. That day in the hotel room, I told her it was over, but you wouldn’t give me another chance. Everyone was angry at us. My own mother wouldn’t look at me for months. My sister only recently started speaking to me again.”

“Oh, my goodness.” I put both hands to my cheeks in fake outrage. “How terrible for the two of you. I guess you found comfort again in each other’s arms.”

He says nothing. He looks away and stares into the distance as if he’s weighing his next words.

He opens his mouth to speak again, but I talk first and say, “Well, you’re in for a rough eighteen years. Get the hell out of my office.”

His hand wraps around the doorknob, but he doesn’t leave just yet. He takes a deep breath and turns around. “I still love you,” he whispers. “I never stopped. What happened between me and Camille was never about me not loving you.”

I don’t know what I expected him to say, but it wasn’t that. I’d laugh if he wasn’t so pathetic.

“Really? Was it love that made you cheat? Even before that, was it love that made you try to chip away at my self-esteem? As if you could. What about the baby shower you had here? Did you do that out of love too?”

He looks away and stares into the distance.

“I’ve made mistakes, but—"

I hold my hand up, and he shuts up. “Let me be clear. I don’t love you. You disgust me. Get the hell out and never come back.” He turns back to the door and takes one final deep breath before he leaves.

I chase all thoughts of him out of my head and focus on the packages that were waiting for me at Aiden’s when I got back from my apartment. He only left yesterday, but I couldn’t go with him because I had to meet with the contractor. Besides, my new bedroom set came this morning. There was also new living room furniture, which I had no idea about. The other reason I went home today was to get clothes for my trip, which was not necessary. Aiden picked me up from work on Tuesday, and instead of going to his place or dinner, he took me to Bergdorf's and introduced me to his stylist and personal shopper.

Judy is a tall woman in her fifties with salt and pepper hair and smooth brown skin. After speaking to me for a few minutes, she brought out racks and racks of clothes for me to choose from. I thought she was trying to figure out my style and expected a few things, but she sent me an entire summer wardrobe. There are also several winter pieces too. There are enough shoes for ten sets of feet, along with pieces of jewelry and purses. There’s so much stuff, that it covers Aiden’s California King sized bed.

I grab my phone and call him. Like always, he picks up on the second ring.

“Hey, baby.” Every time he answers that way, I want to combust.

“Um, Aid, there’s a bunch of clothes here that Judy sent. I thought it would be a couple of outfits for the long weekend.”

“Uh-huh. Well, whatever you don’t like, you can send back.” There’s a loud noise behind him. He pulls away from the phone and yells at someone.

“I like everything. That’s not the issue. It’s just a lot. And you’ve practically furnished my apartment. You don’t need to—”

“I know I don’t need to, but I want to. I told you months ago that your boyfriend was going to spoil you. And love you. He loves you a lot.”

My heart melts. That’s one of the ways he shows love. He loves to give gifts.

“I love you too. I miss you,” I tell him.

“I’m counting the hours, baby.” He blows me a kiss before ending the call.

I eye the suitcase I brought from home and determine it’s crap. I search Aiden’s house until I find some of his luggage. I offered to buy my own plane ticket to Miami, but he rolled his eyes at me. Instead of heading to JFK or LaGuardia, I’m going to Teterboro in a few hours. It’s a hub for private jets, and Vickie Chastain’s brother-in-law is taking a small group in his private plane.

Despite being early March, it’s cold today with bitter winds. I decide on a pair of jeans that Judy sent and a light tank top. I put a sweater over it and decide on a pair of ballet flats, also sent by Judy. Instead of driving there by myself, Vickie has her driver pick me up, and I ride in the back of a Bentley with her and her adorable son. Any nerves I had about going with her dissolves almost instantly. Maybe it’s marriage, but she’s all smiles and chats with me the entire time.

I’ve never been on a private plane before. I’ve never even flown first class in my life. Most of my trips have been on budget airlines, but I’ve never complained. I’ve always been happy to be able to go somewhere, but the experience of pulling up at an airport for private planes is something I never thought I’d experience. There’s no check in or long security lines. We’re ushered onto the plane, and it looks like we’re the last ones. Her sister, Tara, and her fiancé, Ethan, are there with a little boy around Evan’s age. I’m greeted by everyone on the plane as if I’ve known them for years. Vickie’s brother Alan is there, and my mind flashes back to the wedding and how excited he was to talk about math. All the adults except Vickie are served champagne.

Once I get a moment alone, I call Aiden.

“Hey, baby,” he says. “Everything okay?”

“You should see this plane,” I whisper. “Oh my God.” I take a sip of my drink. “And there’s champagne.” When he chuckles, I say, “I wish you were here. I miss you.”

“Me too, but I’ll see you soon. Three hours.”

We’re served a full meal on the flight, and despite being a stranger, I feel comfortable with everyone on board. Despite the good mood, I’m eager to arrive and see Aiden. He left early yesterday morning, and his house feels cold and empty without him.

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