The Casual Rule (33 page)

He doesn’t want my love. And I can’t give him anything less. Not anymore.

I walk into the living room and sit alone on the couch watching the crowds in Times Square on television. The TV camera pans up to the crystal ball waiting to drop to welcome in the New Year. The revelers look so happy and drunk, couples in love, kissing when the camera points to them. The more I watch, the more my heart breaks.

I pick up my cell phone that’s sitting on the coffee table. I always keep it nearby. Just in case…

I brush my fingers against the screen and it lights up. Maybe I should send him a text wishing him a Happy New Year. Maybe when he sees my name on his cell phone, he’ll miss me and we can start over. No, no, no. There’s no turning back from this. We want different things. He made that clear. I place the phone back down on the coffee table.

I glance at the clock on our cable box and notice it’s five minutes to midnight. I don’t want to watch the New Year ring in all alone. It’s too depressing, even for me. I reach across the couch to find the television remote control when I hear the front door burst open. I drop the remote and turn my head toward the door. Allie walks in alone, looking winded, her coat wide open, still wearing her sparkly blue cocktail dress. She throws her coat on the floor and walks toward me.

Saying nothing, she sits down on the couch next to me and holds my hand, staring straight at the television. We sit silently for the next five minutes as we watch the seconds to the New Year count down. Midnight strikes and the ball drops. The crowd is going wild, confetti pouring down on to the city streets, couples kiss, Auld Lang Syne plays over the cheers. Allie squeezes my hand tightly, smiling sympathetically, and I realize she didn’t want me to be alone at midnight.

This simple act of friendship is all it takes for me to breakdown. I crumble into her arms, sobbing as she embraces me, silently rocking me back and forth until I’m cried out.

~o0o~

It’s been a week and the pain in the pit of my stomach has not lessened at all. I didn’t think it was possible, but it’s worse. I have to move on. I just have to. I can’t keep torturing myself.

I want to hate him, I really do. It would be so much easier if I did. But I can’t, not really. He was always clear about what he wanted.  I’m the one who changed, broke our one rule. He said casual and he meant it. I continued to fool myself into thinking that’s all I wanted too. But the simple truth is…I love him…and he doesn’t love me.

Work has been my only solace. Vivian has been really good about my moping around, going easy on my workload. I’m sure she knows something happened. Pain is written all over my face.

“Are you all right Julia?” she asks in a soothing tone.

“I’m fine. Thanks.”

She hesitates for a moment, a very un-Vivian move, softening the usual business facade she wears in the office. “If you ever feel the need to talk, you know about work…” She pauses briefly peeking over her glasses, “or whatever, I’m a very good listener.”

“Thanks, I’m good.” I’m sure Vivian has better things to do than get sucked into my personal drama. “I think I’m done for the day. Is there anything else you need?”

“No, Julia. Go home. Please relax this weekend. If you need me… for anything, I’m a phone call away.”

“Thank you. I will.”

I walk over to the elevators and catch a glimpse of myself in the stainless steel doors. Even through this distorted view I can clearly see that I look horrible. And what’s worse is I just don’t care.

I’m not ready to go home. I need to walk, to think. I stroll mindlessly through midtown Manhattan, nearly walking into a stop sign. I’m so lost, just lost. The city is bustling with people leaving work, probably going home to their significant others. It’s amazing how you can be smack dab in the middle of a city buzzing with millions of people and feel so alone.

The glare of a shiny object on the sidewalk catches my attention. I look down and see a quarter. Dutifully, I bend down and pick it up, looking at the date and markings. It’s nothing special. Just another quarter, like I was just another girl. I shove it in my coat pocket and continue walking.

The chill in the air has finally gotten to me. I need to get home and hide out in my bedroom.

As I’m walking toward the subway, I reach Emilio’s Café. I can’t help but feel a sense of melancholy. This is where we shared a pitcher of sangria and the rest was history. It’s bittersweet. I wonder if he misses me, maybe a little, like I miss him. I stop and peek in the front window. It’s just like I remember it, a little slice of Barcelona. There are a few people lurking around the hostess’ desk waiting to be seated and the bar is crowded with patrons getting their weekend started.  Everyone is laughing and look like they haven’t a care in the world.
It
must be nice to feel that way
.

I wonder if I’ll ever feel that way again. Right now, I can’t see it happening for me. I’m stuck with this feeling of loss for what never was. This dark cloud feels like it will loom over me forever.

My eyes widen, as I recognize a familiar face. That bitch Cam-eel is sitting at the bar with a man. Her arm casually stretched across the chairs, her hand resting on his shoulder. His back is to me, but I’d know that back anywhere. And my heart sinks.

It’s Ben.

For a moment, I feel the contents of my stomach threaten to come up. I hold my hand to my mouth and recover. He’s brought her to our place. How could I be so gullible? “Our place” was just a line…. pillow talk. And I fell for it.

They look very chummy and deep in conversation. She briefly looks up. Our eyes lock as she cocks her head slightly, her brow arching. She subtly lifts her wine glass up to me as she smirks slyly in my direction. Then she looks back at Ben and leans in close to him, whispering something in his ear while slowly rubbing her hand back and forth on his shoulder. He hasn’t turned around to see me, so I know she hasn’t divulged I’m here, gawking at them like a lovesick stalker. It appears they are having a very intimate conversation. It’s apparent to me that Ben is back to his original fuck buddy.

I’m sure Elizabitch will be thrilled.

My heart sinks. If I didn’t know better, I’d guess my heart is lying dead on the sidewalk below me.

It’s always going to be her. He sees her as someone he needs in his life. They screw around when the mood strikes and confide in each other. His family sees her as his great match. I can’t compete with that. The fact is I never stood a chance.

I’ve seen enough. I rush to the subway station, fighting the tears, repeating my mantra.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

~o0o~

Somehow I find the strength to hold myself together during the subway ride and walk to my apartment. I open the door, throw my coat on the floor, and run for the bathroom.

I fall to the floor, dry heaving over the toilet. Holding in these emotions is too much for my body to take. After a while of hugging the toilet, I stand and walk over to the sink. I look at myself in the mirror.

“Stupid!” I yell at my mirror image.

I sink to the floor and sob into my hands, my body heaving, wallowing in my emptiness and the realization that I lost at love. I need to get out of here. I dab my tears on my shirt’s sleeve and get off the floor. Standing in front of the bathroom sink, I throw some cold water on my face. I look at the reflection staring back at me. My eyes have dark circles under them and I’m pale. I look like hell. I’m a complete mess. A cold splash of water can’t mask my red swollen eyes.

When I open the bathroom door, Allie is standing on the other side. She opens her mouth to say something. I immediately hold up my hand to stop her.

“Not now, Allie. I don’t want to talk about it.” I wipe my runny nose with the back of my hand.

“Okay. I’m here if you need me,” she says softly.

“I know. Thanks,” I choke out while running to my bedroom, closing the door behind me.

I change into my Christmas flannel pajamas. Even a simple pair of pajamas makes me think of him. There’s nothing I can do to escape him. I collapse on my bed, my arms wrapped around my bended knees, weeping. Why did I think I could do this? I know I’m not a casual relationship girl. I’m such a fucking fool. I did this to myself. I put myself here. This is my fault.

There’s a light knock on my bedroom door.

“Julia, can I come in? I made some soup.”

“Yeah, come in.” I sniff, wiping my tears away with the back of my hand.

Allie walks in holding a tray with a bowl of soup and a few Saltine crackers on it.

“Please eat something before you die from malnutrition,” she pleads.

I straighten myself up on the bed as she places the tray over my lap. I look down at the bowl. It’s chicken noodle soup. My mom used to make this when we were kids. There’s a feeling of comfort just from the aroma. I sip a spoonful.

“You opened the can and heated the soup very well. Thank you,” I say.

“I’m glad you still have your sense of humor.”

“Barely,” I mutter.

“Would you like some company? I can sit with you.”

“Sure. Thanks.”

We sit quietly while I finish my soup and crackers.

“That’s much better,” Allie says as she moves the tray off my lap. She sits on the edge of my bed beside me, playing with my hair like my mom used to do when we’d talk.

“Do you want to tell me what happened since this morning? You looked very upset coming out of the bathroom.”

My shoulders slump and I sigh. “I saw him. He was in a bar with that Camille bitch hanging all over him. He’s gone back to her.”

“Maybe they were just talking.”

“She was all over him. She saw me. I was glued to my spot, just staring at them through a window. I felt like such an idiot.”

“Ben didn’t say anything to you?”

“He didn’t see me. Her victorious smirk was all I needed to read the writing on the wall. He’s already replaced me. He’s gone back to his original fuck buddy. That’s all I ever was to him, just another girl to fuck. He told me. You told me. I just didn’t listen.”

“Are you sure they’re together?” she asks.

I nod as the tears roll down my cheeks. Allie hands me a tissue from the box on my nightstand. I wipe my tears and nose, and throw the crumbled tissue on the giant pile of used tissues on the side of my nightstand.

“It’s just…” She stops her thought.

“What?” I sniffle out.

“Nothing.” She shakes her head.

“Allie, now isn’t the time to hold back. Say what you have to say.”

“I’ve seen the two of you together. I saw the way he looked at you. He was totally into you.”

“Yeah, for sex,” I counter.

“It was more than sex. There’s no doubt in my mind. Maybe you misunderstood what you saw. He told you they were friends. Maybe what you saw was just old friends meeting up for a drink.”

“I know what I saw Allie. She was practically in his lap. I have no doubt they are back on.”

“Awe Jules, I’m sorry,” she says as she smoothes out my hair.

I close my eyes. I know I can’t hold it back anymore. Tears stream down my face and I lose it again. I turn my face into Allie’s shoulder and sob.

“Shhh…it’s going to be okay,” Allie whispers as she glides her hand up and down my back, holding me, rocking me back and forth.

I lift my head out of her shoulder and look at her. It doesn’t feel like it’s ever going to be okay.

“You warned me. I just didn’t listen. What’s wrong with me? Michael cheated on me. Ben never wanted me for more than just sex.”

“Look at me.” She looks directly into my eyes. “There is nothing wrong with you. You have the biggest heart of anyone I know. Michael is a selfish asshole. He never deserved you. And Ben…” She shakes her head.

“Why doesn’t he love me?” I whisper mournfully, my eyes brimming with tears.  

She tucks the hair that’s sticking to my tear stained face behind my ears and sighs.

“Julia, I’m not convinced he doesn’t.”

“He doesn’t. He had his chance to tell me. I asked him, point blank and he balked.”

“Maybe he’s afraid.”

“Afraid? Afraid of what?”

“His feelings about you. Commitment. You said he’s only had casual relationships. From what I saw, there was nothing about your relationship that was casual.”

“Relationship? We didn’t have a relationship. We were nothing. I was fooling myself.” I weep, shaking my head.

“Don’t listen to his words, look at his actions. Actions tell the truth. I’ve seen the way he looks at you...the guy couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He introduced you to his family. Hell, he met yours. He went out of his way to buy you chestnuts and got you that stupid elephant. That had to be nearly impossible to find. He didn’t treat you like just a fuck buddy.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. When I told him I loved him, he backed off so fast.” I hold my hand over my mouth, unsuccessfully holding in my emotions. “He treated me
exactly
like a fuck buddy.”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” She shrugs.

“Maybe I wasn’t worth his heart.”

“Maybe he’s not worth yours,” she retorts. “It’s going to be okay, you know. It will.”

“When?”

“Someday. Just give yourself some time. Someday you’ll find someone who loves you the way you deserve to be loved.”

“But I want him,” I whisper, my bottom lip quivers.

“I know. I’m sorry.” She wraps her arms around me and hugs me tightly.

“There’s got to be something about him you don’t like.”

“Other than the fact that he rejected me, is screwing around with his recycled fuck buddy, the Ice Queen, a.k.a. his sister’s bitch twin… Oh and he pulverized my heart?” I hesitate and look up the ceiling, thinking. “Well, his real name is Leonard,” I deadpan.

“First of all…impressive title for the bitch.” She chuckles. “Secondly, Leonard? He just dropped five degrees on the hot scale.”

“I thought that too, but it’s kind of sweet. It was his grandfather’s name. Can we talk about something else? Talking about him exhausts me.”

“Sure. Boys are icky anyway. How about I open a bottle of wine and we get ourselves drunk.”