Suzie replies, Me neither!!!!
I don’t know what to do now. Other than, you know, go out and have revenge sex with a bunch of random guys, I say.
I expect them to laugh in response, but instead, the group chat goes eerily still for several moments. Cars pass by, their engines extra loud in the quiet of night. Frowning, I check if I’ve lost cell reception—there’s one tiny bar. I hold my phone up higher just in case that will get me an extra micro-bar of connectivity.
I get a text from Suzie first. Maybe you should take advantage of this opportunity to see other people.
I agree with Suz. It would serve him right, adds Rose.
I’m not saying you need to sleep with anyone, but you could turn this around. See if HE is right for YOU. Someone else might be a better fit, Suzie says.
That makes so much sense, Suz. Think about it, Anna, Rose says.
I can’t help making a face as I type my response with my thumbs. Meeting new people isn’t my favorite. I haven’t dated in five years. I think I forgot how. To be honest, I’m scared.
Don’t be scared! Rose tells me.
Dating can be fun and kind of relaxing, Suzie says. It’s not an audition or anything. You’re just seeing if you and this other person are a fit. If you don’t like them or something embarrassing happens, you never have to see them again. There’s no pressure. Every time I dated a new person, I learned a little more about myself. There’s no incentive to try to be someone else, you know what I mean?
Also, from someone who’s done it many times, one-night stands can be empowering. It’s how I learned to demand what I want in bed and not be ashamed. 100% recommend, Rose says, adding a winking emoji at the end.
You almost make me regret getting married, Suzie replies.
Rose’s advice strikes a chord with me, though I’m not exactly sure what it is that resonates. I know this is one of those conversations that I’ll be replaying in my head for days and analyzing from different angles.
My old-fashioned apartment building comes into sight, Victorian rooftops and tiny iron balconies with well-tended planter boxes. Home. Suddenly, I’m aware of how drained I am on every level. Even my thumbs are tired as I type out a last set of messages. I need to think about this. Just got home. Going to call it a night. Thank you for talking to me. I feel better. Sorry to bother you so late. Love you guys.
It’s no bother. We love you! says Suzie.
Anytime! LOVE YOU! Good night! says Rose.
THREE
Quan
I might be an addict.
A running addict. If my mom caught me doing drugs, she’d chase after me with a clothes hanger—she wouldn’t catch me, though. I ran yesterday for three hours, and I’m at it again today even though my left knee’s been acting up. I just can’t seem to stop. Lately, it’s the only thing that keeps my mind off stuff.
When I turn onto my street, my head is calm and the only things I want are a cold drink of water and ice for my knee, but Michael is waiting outside my apartment building. He’s got sunglasses on, his hair is perfect, and he looks like he’s ready for a fashion shoot. It’s kind of disgusting.
“Hey,” I say, using the front of my T-shirt to wipe the sweat from my face. “What’s going on?” It’s a Saturday, and he’s always got stuff going on with his wife, Stella. It’s weird for him to be here.
Michael pushes his sunglasses to the top of his head and gives me a direct look. “You haven’t been picking up, so I started to worry.”
“I must have forgotten it on Do Not Disturb again.” I pull my phone out of the holder strapped to my arm, and sure enough, there are a bunch of missed calls. “Sorry.”
“This isn’t like you,” Michael says.
“I forgot,” I say with a shrug, but I’m purposefully missing the point. I know what he’s getting at. I just don’t want to talk about it.
He doesn’t let me avoid the topic, though. “So, did you hear from the doctor? What did they say?” His face is creased, and I notice now that he’s got bags under his eyes.
I guess that’s because of me, and I’m sorry for it. He’s really tried to be there for me over the past two years. Some things I just have to do alone, though. I squeeze his arm and smile reassuringly. “It’s official, I’m good. Completely recovered.”
He narrows his eyes. “Are you lying because you don’t think I can handle the truth?”