Page 77 of Lovebug
He at least has the decency to look sheepish.
I look down at my left hand at the way-too-big ring that was never my style. It wasn’t being resized like I told Wally the other day. I was just embarrassed to wear it. Too flashy. Too indicative of how wrong we are for each other. How wrong we’ve always been for each other if I’m being honest with myself. And how I have been holding on to this relationship for years, too scared to do what clearly needed to be done and end things between us.
At that moment, I can’t say that I make a decision. It’s almost like the decision makes me.
I take the ring off, place it on the bedside table, and walk toward the door, not intending to say another word.
“Wait a second,” Bert says, suddenly sounding panicked. “What are you doing?”
“I’m leaving.”
“When will you be back?”
He’s equal parts hopeful and terrified when he says it, his eyes wide, his body frozen in place.
“I won’t, boo,” I say softly. “I’m leavingyou.”
“What? No,” he says. “I’m sorry. Please, Mabes. I can’t lose a good girl like you.”
The expression on his face is so telling. He looks like a lost little boy at that moment, and I can’t help but feel sorry for him. Can’t help but want to take care of him. Never in a million years did he think I would give up on him. I can’t blame him for that because neither did I.
Then something hits me.
“Wait. What did you say?”
“I said, I’m sorry. And I am, Mabes. I’m so so sorry.”
“No, after that. You said you can’t lose…”
“A good girl like you.”
He finishes the sentence for me, and at that moment, I know two things for certain. One, there’s nothing left for me here. And two… this is the last time someone uses me being a “good girl” as an excuse to treat me badly.
“Good Girl Mabel” has been running the show my entire life, and look at what she has to show for it. She lives at home with angry, overprotective parents. She has no extended family to speak of. She was duped by a pyramid scheme run by her almost mother-in-law and cheated on repeatedly by a man who thinks a glorified version of “Bop it” is a suitable form of foreplay.
No more.
I may not have actually died tonight, but “Good Girl Mabel” most certainly did.
My friends were right. It’s time for “Bad Girl Mabel” to come out and play.
Chapter Fifteen
“Are you serious right now?” Louise’s face is full of utter shock and disdain.
“Hundred percent,” I say with a nod.
It’s Sunday morning, and I’m setting up my Save the Bees stand at the arboretum’s Artisan Festival. I pulled some strings and got The Philadelphia Aquarium’s Touch Tank booth lined up directly next to mine so I could spend some quality time with my new friend, Louise.
It’s been almost a week since my breakup with Bert, and I’m catching her up on all the sordid details.
“How many women do you think he’s pulled this with?” she asks.
“Hard to say. But since Monday night, I’ve spoken with five women who have confirmed their…involvementwith him. But I have a feeling plenty more just don’t want to talk about it. Or at least talk tomeabout it.”
“Ohmygod, you poor thing,” Louise croons.
“Eh,” I say with a shrug.
