Page 21 of Liberating Bells
He kisses my forehead and then gives me a smile. “Drive safe, baby. Call me when you get home. I love you.”
“I love you too, Mark.” I return the endearment and reach for my keys in my purse. Mark stays in the parking lot. He slides his hands in his pockets and keeps an eye on me, making sure I get to my car okay. Then he waves as I pull out of my spot and drive off.
My hands grip the steering wheel as I drive farther and farther away. Living separately is one argument that I held firm on immediately after the engagement. If Mark had it his way, we would have been living together right from the start. But I convinced him that I needed to have my own space. Thankfully, he conceded. My apartment is closer to Bennett anyway, makingit easier for me to get to work. Mark lives on the other side of town, so it would have doubled my commute time.
Mark and I hope to start house hunting in the next month, neither of us wanting to live in a condo or apartment once we’re married. But until then, I am happy to have the sanctuary of my own home. My apartment is my safe place, where I’m surrounded by my favorite books and comfy blankets and trinkets that share memories.
I’m not ready to go home tonight, though. My mind has not been able to stop thinking about my encounter this afternoon.
At a stoplight, I pull out my cellphone and call Juliet. I’m sure I’m going to hear all about what I’m about to ask her, but it’s the only way.
She answers on the second ring. “Hey, gorgeous, what’s up?”
“I need Ryan’s address,” I tell her abruptly. “Please, don’t ask questions. Just give it to me.”
A pause, a rustle of paper, and then… “5573 Birchwood Lane, Unit G.”
“Thank you,” I whisper and hang up. I type the address into my maps, and I’m on my way.
This is crazy. I don’t even know what is possessing me to think this is a good idea. It’s the last thing I should be doing, knowing my fiancé wouldn’t be on board with me seeing him more than absolute bare minimum, but I have to see him. Even if it’s just for a moment to apologize for the awkward encounter this afternoon. To maybe meet his new girlfriend...
Closure. That’s what this is. Or at least that’s what I’m going with. If I’m going to move forward with my life, I need closure.
God, what if she’s there? What if they’re having a date night? What if they’re in the middle ofsomething else.
I hadn’t considered that. I glance down at my maps and realize I’m almost there. I can still turn around. I can still goback to Mark’s condo; he would be more than thrilled to let me spend the night.
All in the name of closure.
I pull into a parking space and hop out of the car before talking myself out of it. My stomach is still churning as I find the correct building and go in. The lobby is quiet. Decorative wallpaper and pieces of art line the walls. The entrance smells like citrus and vanilla; I notice a wax melting contraption on a side table, the source of the aroma. This place is a lot nicer than mine or Mark’s.
Up the stairs to the left…There. Unit G.
My feet carry me down the hallway until I’m standing right in front of his door. I train my ears to see if I can hear any movement inside, but I don’t. My trembling hand raises, and I rap my fist on the wooden door.
No answer.
I knock again—still nothing.
My heart feels like it’s about to pump out of my chest, and I still believe I could throw up any second. I spin around and lean my back against the door. Then I let gravity do its thing and allow myself to slide down until my butt’s on the floor.
Why am I even here?
I think about the travesty this day has been. It started off great. Mark picked me up and brought flowers. We decided to go for a stroll before meeting with the planner. Then it rapidly went to shit the moment I spotted Ryan on his lunch date.
Maybe I was jealous. It wasn’t my right to be...I mean, given our history. But it was a huge world shift. Ryan and I dated for a long time. Even though I’m in love with Mark now, some histories are hard to let go of.
Then we met with this wedding planner, who was rattling off this and that: deadlines and to-do lists, and recommendations on caterers and photographers. My head was spinning before Iknew it. Wedding this and wedding that. Make sure you talk to an officiant, and you might be asked to do counseling if you’re getting married in a church. Don’t forget to get your wedding license, so it’s official with the state.
Then the whole dinner argument. Nothing new there, as Mark’s shit isalwaysmore important than mine, but still. It was the cherry on top of my disaster of a day. His drive to make partner with his firm is starting to become an obsession. I know it’s the next big step for him and his career, and I’m happy for him. But at what expense?
I feel my hips beginning to ache from my position on the ground. What I need to do now is get up off this floor and go home. I need to run myself a hot bath, find something to settle my stomach and watch some mindless show. Then hopefully, tomorrow will be a fresh new day, and I can get on with my crazy life.
I just cannot seem to get myself to stand up. My brain gives the instructions to my muscles, and they flat out ignore it. My eyes begin to sting, and I suddenly don’t care that I’m wearing a dress and looking like a hot mess. I bring my knees up to my chest and bury my head in my arms. I focus on my breathing, and my heart rate settles slightly.
In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four.
I do my breathing exercises, when my ears pick up the sound of footsteps on the stairs. And then they’re walking toward me. It’s probably a security guard. I noticed cameras monitoring the hallways when I walked in. Someone probably thought I’m a deranged homeless person and called it in, so now they are here to kick me out.
