Page 86 of Just the Tipsy
I blow out a breath. I usually don’t handle Buttons, Catherine’s mixed breed dog, because of our history, but I’m the only vet left here for the day. I hate being around her but I’d never refuse any animal that needed help.
“I’ll be there in a second.” I stand up and put the foster kitten back.
Catherine is sitting in the lobby, Buttons on her lap. Her hair is in the messy bun it’s always in when she’s stressed, plus leggings and a t-shirt. I have no idea what’s going on in her life aside from whatever’s going on with Buttons, but she’s not as put together as she usually is.
“Hey,” I say. Her eyes snap up to mine. “What’s going on with Buttons?”
“Dr. Healey saw him the other week for this rash he has and it looks like it’s getting worse,” she says putting Buttons down.
She got Buttons toward the end of when we were dating, so Buttons knows me. He wags his tail and sniffs my leg before I guide us into one of the exam rooms. I shut the door behind us and sit down on the floor. Buttons isn’t big enough to be considered a big dog, but he’s not small either. His black and white fur looks healthy and fluffy, aside from one spot near his back left leg.
I check over his rash and she fills me in on what Dr. Healey said. Buttons tries to climb in my lap to cuddle and a pang rings in my chest. We agreed that he was Catherine’s dog when she adopted him, but I always assumed he’d be ours. Splitting up and not having him was another punch to the gut on top of everything else.
“We’ll try some anti-fungals next,” I say. “And if that doesn’t work, come back to the office and we can try a different approach.”
Buttons turns in a circle on my lap, nearly stepping on my balls, and flops down, completely content. The rush of memories is like being hit by a train. I thought we were in the happiest days of our relationship when we first adopted him — I thought we’d healed from the first time she cheated, but she was out there hooking up with other guys.
“Is it a pill? You know he doesn’t like pills,” she says, eyeing her dog on my lap.
“It’s a shampoo. Give him a bath weekly with it, and apply a soothing cream. We’ll get you both of them,” I say, trying to ignore heryou should have known thattone. Other people — particularly Jada — picked up on it when we were together, but I missed it. Now it’s so damn obvious that I can’t believe I didn’t notice it until someone pointed it out. What was my problem?
“Okay.” She gets up and picks Buttons off my lap. Snatches, almost.
“I’ll go write his prescriptions. They should be ready to pick up by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Fine.”
No thank you, apparently. Not that I’m surprised. She lost her polite sparkle once we broke up, almost as if she’d been this way all along. I hold in a sigh so I don’t start anything with her and get out of the room as soon as possible to write Buttons’ prescriptions.
Someday I won’t feel completely thrown off by having a normal interaction with her, but today isn’t that day.
It’s not that I’m wrestling with lingering feelings of betrayal — I’ve accepted the fact that she was two-faced for our second shot at a relationship. I just can’t get past the fact that I thought I knew her so well but I was so fucking wrong. Her condescendingattitude, her judgment of shit that really isn’t all that weird. Now it all looks obvious. Though maybe she just got a whole lot worse the more time went on.
I can’t believe I was so blinded by love. Or by the person I assume she was.
I wrap up the day, still playing irritating memories on loop that make my brain ache like a bruise. Jeremiah’s text asking if I want to get drinks comes at just the right time — I need to decompress.
I head home, shower, then take Duke to the bar. Jeremiah and Jada are in the back at our normal table. The look Jada is giving me has some venom in it, so I’m assuming Bianca told her that we “broke up”. Or maybe Bianca even told her everything about this fake relationship and she hates me for lying.
“The only reason why I’m not going to rip you in half is because you were my friend first,” Jada says. “But it sounds like you really fucked with Bianca’s heart, so I’m still kind of pissed at you.”
I sigh and slide onto a stool. “I understand.”
“So? Explain,” Jada says.
“Let the man breathe and get a drink.” Jeremiah pushes an empty glass and the pitcher toward me. Usually we do the pitcher because it’s cheaper, but I almost want something a little stronger.
I pour myself a drink and down half of it. I’m tired of lying — I lied to Mom and it’s hurt our relationship. I don’t want my best friends finding out the same way Mom did.
“There’s more to Bianca and I’s relationship than I told you both,” I say.
I tell them everything — from our awkward first meeting in person, to the fake date that spiraled into our arrangement, to what happened at the wedding. They listen intently, eyebrows going up higher and higher.
“That’s fucking crazy, man,” Jeremiah says.
“Which part?” I ask.
“The whole thing. Especially the fact that you let a woman go who you have feelings for and vice versa because of fucking Catherine.” He leans back, drumming his fingers on the table. “You know she was the worst. Bianca is very clearly not the worst. So what are you doing?”
