Page 80 of Love & Other Drunken Mistakes
But I know that I need to do this on my own. There can be no excuses, no loopholes, no one else’s influence. No one elsecan absorb the impact or take the blame. This conversation is just between Theresa and me.
I smile softly at Euan and hope I’m not lying when I say, “I’ll be fine.” Then I step into the room, away from him. My back feels so cold and exposed without his hand pressed against it.
Richard steps past me without really looking at me, closing the door on his way out. I hear his muffled voice as he says something else to Euan, then their departing footsteps. As Euan gets further away, Theresa’s presence seems to overtake the room, making me uncomfortably aware of every small movement.
Was being near her always this suffocating? Or am I only noticing it now because I have someone new to compare her to? This whole week, Euan has been a breath of fresh air, filling my lungs after struggling for so long.
The sex has been a great new adventure, but more importantly, I want to linger in the quiet moments with him. No matter how complicated and strange our relationship is, it’seasyto be with him. From the moment we met, everything clicked into place. Even when I think we’re faltering, he provides a steadying hand.
It was never easy with Theresa. I was always on edge, wanting to make everything perfect for her, wanting to maintain the image of her sweet, considerate boyfriend. I’d thought the anxiety would go away once the newness wore off, but it never really did. Even the proposal ended up being more about meeting expectations than taking the next step toward a happy future.
“Well?” she demands. “Don’t you haveanythingto say?”
I stare back at her for a long moment, then take a deep breath and say, “We’re done.”Maybe it really is that simple.
“Done?” she repeats. “That’s it? I don’t even get to explain myself, we’re justdone?”
Or maybe not.“Why should I need an explanation? We aren’t together anymore; you can kiss or fuck whoever you want.” The scene was shocking at first, but it didn’t even compare to everything Euan and I have done together.
“Don’t you feelanything?” she asks, her voice breaking on the last word. “We were supposed to get married, and you justleftme for some stranger! And now you find me kissing another man, and you don’t even askwhy?”
I stare at her, baffled. “Supposed to get married? You didn’t even accept the proposal! But you know who did? Euan. Yeah, we were drunk and joking around, but he accepted my proposal like itmeantsomething. LikeImeant something to him!”
Our drunken ramblings come back to me, Euan’s soft, heartbroken:I just want to matter to someone.
And my reply, before I ever knew how true the words would be:You matter to me.Because Euan does matter to me. He has been so fucking vital to my healing over the past week—to exploring new parts of myself that I’d lost or never knew were there—that I can’t even imagine where I would be right now without him.
“We were together for a year and a half, Alex, and you think you don’tmean somethingto me? I love you!” The words are more angry than passionate, like she’s trying to pin me in place with them, keep me trapped like some scientific specimen.
“Do you? Or do you just love the things I did for you? Making all the decisions because you were too tired. Adjusting my life to fit your schedule. Rearranging my apartment for your comfort.”
Hurt flashes across her face, mixing with her anger like baking soda and vinegar, only making things more volatile. “I didn’t know our relationship was such aburdento you. Youchoseto do those things; I never asked you to. If I’d known you were going to compile them in some mental ledger,expecting me to repay you for every small kindness, I wouldn’t have accepted.”
“It’s not about you repaying me! I’m not keeping silent score, but sometimes …”
Memories from the last few days fill my head. Euan making breakfast in the morning without me asking. Helping with the dishes after dinner. His attentive aftercare, cleaning me up and snuggling me close. Waking up to him massaging my worn-out muscles. “I want to be taken care of, too.”
Theresa's lips tremble slightly as she glares at me. “I’m not going to become my mother, working a full-time job at the office and then coming home to a full-time job of taking care of her husband.”
I know she’s picturing a useless man sitting on his ass while she does all the household chores, and the assumption frustrates me further. “I’m not asking you to! I just want someone who puts in the same effort I do.”
A partnership,Euan’s voice says in my head, perfectly summing up my thoughts.
“I put effort into our relationship,” she says, “but god forbid I want a couple of quiet weekends where no one is demanding one hundred and ten percent from me.”
Theresa could probably argue for hours over semantics and ‘who works harder’, but I don’t want to waste any more energy on her. “I don’t care what happens with you and Richard. You can dump him again, or you can ride off into the sunset together. It has nothing to do with me. You and I are not getting back together.”
Her lips purse in a thin line. I expect her to argue further, but she just says, “I’ll come pick up my things tonight.”
And give her time to organize her closing arguments? Absolutely not.“Don’t bother. I’ll mail them to you.” I don’t wait for her response as I step into the hall, closing the door firmly between us.
When we first broke up, I felt a weight disappear from my shoulders, finally giving me a chance to breathe. Now, I feel almosttoolight, like I’ll float away if someone doesn’t catch me.
Where’s Euan?If anyone can ground me, it’s him.
He’s not in the hallway or the lobby. He wouldn’t have completely left without me, so my next guess is Richard’s office, but the door is closed. I can’t tell if he’s inside, or if Richard is already meeting with another client.
My phone buzzes and I sigh in relief, assuming it’s Euan. But when I look at the Caller ID, a different name flashes across the screen.Why is the County Clerk’s office calling me?
