Page 26 of Kismet

“Why do you seem so grim about it? This is fucking exciting, Stone!”

“Aida is bitching about having to go,” I grumble, already knowing what’s coming. Molly has never been quiet about her dislike for Aida. The two of them got along well enough for a while when we first got together, but once I voiced some of our issues to Molly, it was game over for her.

“Stone… Why do you do this? Why invite her in the first place?”

“All of my colleagues know I’m married. She’s been to every other event. I don’t feel like answering the nosy questions about where my wife is. It’s easier to bring her and pretend.”

“Have things gotten any better?” she asks.

“No. If anything, they’ve gotten worse. We hardly speak anymore, and when we do, it’s forced and tense. I don’t understand how we got here, Molly. We used to be happy when we were younger. No marriage is ever perfect, but it wasn’t always this miserable.”

“You were both so young… you didn’t know any better. It’s easy to get caught up in the American dream and the idea of having a family. I know why you did what you did, and I know at one point you were happy with her. But you don’t have to stay married just for the sake of it. You deserve to be happy.”

She’s right. I know she’s right. An urge to tell her about Cash washes over me, but I swallow it. I can’t explain all of that right now, on top of shit with Aida. She wouldn’t judge me, but I simply don’t have the mental capacity to deal with divulging all ofthat. Nor do I have the energy to dissect why Cash’s face appears in my mind at the thought of being happy. That’s concerning for several reasons, one being my wife who’s on the other side of the house, and the other is that it’s a completely unrealistic thought. No matter how I feel about Cash, we could never be anything. Ever.

“I know, Molly. I really do. She has no one here, though. No family, a few superficial friendships, if that. I’m all she has, and I feel like a dick because ending this would essentially be uprooting her from all she knows.”

“You’re not her parent, Stone. That’s not your responsibility. She’s a big girl. She’s made her bed. Now she can lie in it. You’re far too nice to her than she deserves. I’ve never understood it.”

“Okay, as riveting as this is, I need to go and get ready. Love you.”

“Love you too. Send me a picture of the award. And congratulations, Stone. This is amazing. Be proud.”

Two hours later, Aida and I are pulling up outside the banquet hall. The university has one near campus and it’s where this is held every year. They go all out—classy, elegant decorations, a string quartet, catered food that probably costs more than most of our paychecks. It’s always felt a bit too fancy for a university, but whatever. It’s all paid for, so what the hell.

There’s assigned seating, so as soon as we get inside, we find our table. The section we’re at is mostly the English department, so it’s easy to make conversation. Well, for me, at least. Aida, on the other hand, stays quiet. She’s tried so hard to maintain this happy marriage image to the world for so long, that part of me thinks she’s officially given up.

Hors d’oeuvres and champagne are brought out, and we all spend the next thirty minutes mingling with one another. Dean Marshall takes the stage, getting everyone’s attention. There’re several awards being presented tonight, so he gets started on those. Eventually, he gets to the one I’m being given.

“Next is the Jefferies Faculty Excellence Award for instruction, leadership, outreach and engagement, and research. This is one of my favorite awards to present, and I’m even more honored this year, because the recipient is someone I’ve watched grow for several years. This Jefferies Faculty Excellence Award is presented to a member of the faculty in recognition of truly outstanding accomplishments in the establishment of excellence in the instructional programs of Washington State University.

“Activities encompassed by this award may be either outstanding singular accomplishments or a record of excellence over a period of years including exceptionally effective instruction, organizing or conducting new courses or programs of study, revitalizing existing courses or programs of study, and establishing a national reputation as a leader in instruction.

“This individual is not only an alumnus, but also someone who has grown tremendously in his time here, both as a student and as faculty. It is my absolute pleasure to announce the winner of the Jefferies Faculty Excellence Award, Stone Philips!”

Aida’s gaze snaps in my direction, annoyance and shock painted on her face. Instead of dealing with her, I smile, getting up out of my seat and heading toward the stage. I shake Trey’s hand and thank him for the award before finding my seat once more. Aida still looks pissed as ever, but I don’t understand why.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were winning a fucking award, Stone,” she hisses beside me. “I look like a fucking ass being blindsided by it.”

“Are you serious, Aida?” I glance over at her. The bewilderment on my face is probably apparent for everyone around us to see. “I told you about this when I was invited to the event.”

“Whatever, Stone.” She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I think what you meant to saywas‘congratulations, Stone.’”

We leave shortly after that. The entire car ride home is tense and silent. Knowing her, hell is probably about to break loose once we get inside. My phone vibrates in the cup holder, but glancing down, I can see it’s Cash, so I don’t open it right away.

We both get out of the car and go inside, still in silence, but as soon as the front door is closed, she lets me have it.

“I don’t think you did tell me about this little fucking award, Stone. I think you enjoy making me look like a fool in front of your friends and colleagues.”

Raking my fingers through my hair, I groan. “What would I possibly benefit from making you look like a fool, Aida? Please enlighten me. And have you ever thought for one fucking moment that maybe not everything is about you?”

“You’re unbelievable. That’s really nice. Not about me? That’s fine.”

“It was an awardfor me. How would me receiving it be about you? How about for once you be happy for me, Aida. Be proud of me.”

“You know what? I don’t have to deal with this. I’m going to bed.” With that, she stomps up the stairs, leaving me utterly flabbergasted. I’d rather have the fucking silence than this.I hate how much it stings, that after all this time, she can’t even be happy for me or be proud of me. Regardless of the state of our marriage, if the roles were reversed, I’d be happy for her.

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