Page 11 of In For a Penny
“He wassupposedto be the love of my life, I guess. I don’t even know what happened. We broke up because we’re supposed to grow as individuals to come together later in life, sometime soon. We agreed that we needed to make decisions regarding grad schools and jobs based on what we think would be best for us separately, which would lead to personal and professional growth, not resenting each other. But like...” I pause and turn to look at him. “Lately, I’ve been thinking…wouldn’t you do anything to stay with the person you love and make it work? Wouldn’t you try and say, ‘Hey, I think this place is right for me right now, but I love you, so let’s find a way to stay together even if it means doing long-distance for a bit’? Half the people in our class are doing long-distance with their partners. Not saying that they’ll all survive the time apart, but why wouldn’t he give us a chance? I mean, look at you and your relationship! Evenyoucan make it work!” I throw my hands in the air in frustration. “No offense,” I add quickly.
“None taken,” he says with a single laugh. “And I hate to say you’re right, but you are. Lucy and I love each other—so much so that we didn’t want to hurt the other by cheating. But we’re living in different cities now and both knew we wouldn’t be able to stay monogamous. We love each other, so we agreed to an open relationship. It works for us. We make it work.”
“That’s exactly my point! You found a way to make it work, even if I don’t understand it. Youwantedto make it work! Did he just think I wouldn’t be able to handle the distance or an alternative solution, or was it really about the whole ‘find your own way’ thing or…or…”
I take a deep breath.
“Or?” he asks.
I look over at Oliver and am relieved to find compassion instead of pity in his eyes.
“Or was it all an excuse?” I say, my voice breaking. I’m trying to hold it together, but I feel the tears start to fall down my cheeks. “Was he just afucking cowardand just used that all as an excuse? Because now that I look back on it, Ineveragreed to any of it. It was all his idea. And I think he mind-fucked me into thinking it, too, somehow.”
I start sobbing at the monumental deceit that I just realized I have been put through, not caring about the fact that I am breaking down in front of a virtual stranger.
Austin tricked me. He gaslit me into thinking that it was a mutual choice and that I had agreed to it. I believed all of it. Every single last word. He lied. He doesn’t want to be with me but wants to keep his foot in the door if he changes his mind. He sucks.
I lean my head against the brick wall again and shut my eyes tight, taking a deep breath. Suddenly, I feel Oliver wrap his arms around me, my head against his chest. At first, I freeze. I mean, who is this guy? But then I realize just how much I need it and lean into him. It feels nice.
“Shh…” he says. “It’ll be alright.”
Oliver doesn’t say anything as he waits for my tears to stop, and I sniffle.
“I feel like I’ve lost my footing on everything.”
“Penny.” He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “I can sense that you think you consider yourself to be fragile or weak, but I am an exceptional people-reader, and let me tell you that what I see is a soon-to-be force to be reckoned with going through a shit time. You’ve just got to keep going.” He pauses. “And maybe quit smoking because you smell like shit.”
“Oliver?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for this. Thank you for listening. You haven’t even known me for twenty-four hours, and you’re already acting more supportive than some friends I’ve known for years.” I smile up at him. “It’s been a while since someone has shown me this type of kindness—even if it is out of pity.”
“I’m just trying to fuck you, remember? No kindness or feelings of pity here.” He smiles without releasing me.
“Ha! Yes, I forgot about that, offering me comfort just so you can sleep with me later,” I laugh.
“Absolutely. I’m glad we cleared that up.” He smiles wickedly. “Come here, idiot. I think you and I are going to be great friends.” He pulls me into his side and starts dragging me into the pub.
“Insta-friendship,” I mutter under my breath.
“What are you going on about?”
“Insta-friendship. You know how in romance novels there’s insta-love and insta-lust? Well, I feel like we’ve had an insta-friendship.”
He smiles. “Oh no, there wasdefinitelysome insta-lust. You just haven’t been able to admit it to yourself yet.”
I’m about to protest when he says, “Go to the loo and clean yourself up. You look likeuttershit,” and pushes me in the opposite direction toward the bathrooms.
“And here I was thinking we just shared a nice moment,” I say with a laugh.
I do as Mr. Sensitivity says and go clean myself up—I probably do look like utter shit.
The commute home islong but not tragically endless. Forty minutes by DLR from the main campus, and I’m back at my apartment. I’m buzzed and feel kind of anxious—being a drunk girl in sexy heels, alone, late at night does not make me feel particularly safe.
I should have taken an Uber.
I walk home quickly from the station to my building and crash into my roommate as she tries to make her way out of the elevator as I am headed into it.
