(A/N: As this is my first story/series, feedback/comments are always appreciated. Thanks for reading)
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In a perfect world, Aaron accepting to give me a ride home could've been far more enjoyable. A three-hour drive full of dirty talk, teasing, and maybe pulling over at some point and making a mess in his car.
In this world, however, I spent three hours going over the weekend, like a therapy session where I paid by covering the gasoline.
It was hard not to. Aaron was so attentive. Granted, there's only so much small talk you can run through before the guy you gave head to in a bathroom forty minutes ago wonders why you practically begged him to take you home, never mind that you could be a murderer or something.
Somehow, Aaron's sympathy overshadowed that aspect of his critical thinking. We were an hour away from our town when I sat up, fixing my posture. "Do you think I'm a bad person?"
Aaron didn't hesitate. "Oh, for sure."
I earned it, but it still stung. "No doubt, huh?"
"Well, you willingly had an affair with a man who's getting married in two weeks-"
"One week."
"One week," he corrected, glancing at me before he returned his eyes to the road. "The thing is, do you feel like a bad person for ruining the girl's marriage or do you feel like a bad person because your friend doesn't want you anymore and said all that?"
I pressed my lips firmly together, thinking. Yeah, in the grand scheme of things sleeping with someone you know is in a relationship is bad, knowing they're engaged is worse, knowing you've known his fiancee since you were both 20 years old and you've been helping them bring together this wedding over the last year might even be terrible.
"Does it count if she sucked?" I asked, somehow thinking that was my technicality. "I mean, she's homophobic, and other things Landon probably didn't tell me."
Aaron's forehead wrinkled. "And your friend was cool with that?"
"It was weird for a bit but eventually he came around. Maybe she did warm up to it. People change."
"Sure," Aaron continued, pausing to take a sip of his water bottle. "What if she knew how he felt? What if she was jealous?"
"I doubt it," I cut in. "I mean, even I didn't catch how he felt," The past tense made my stomach hurt, but I continued. "But he also is just.... not expressive like that. Like romantically. I didn't even know he was into Tara until one of her little church choir friends told him and he asked her out."
Aaron shrugged. "Maybe it was convenience then. You said he's always been super religious. Maybe he's been in denial, Tana-"
"Tara."
"My bad. Tara caught on at some point, and when you came out she might've thought it would lead to Brandon-"
"Landon!" I corrected with a smile. It was a nice break from the theorizing. Aaron seemed relieved that I noticed his intentions. "No, but seriously. Don't get me wrong, I can't stand Tara, but she's never been the kind to tolerate looking bad, much less being a beard."
"Maybe he's bisexual too," Aaron suggested. "Maybe she loved him too much to let him go. Did you and your guy ever talk about him cutting you off and then coming back?"
"He apologized." But that was about it. At the time I was so disappointed that I didn't push enough for explanations, then, when he returned, I was too relieved that I was perfectly okay with letting the past behind us. Jeez, maybe I really was a loser.
"And... nothing else?" Aaron questioned, taking my silence as his answer. "With that in mind, I don't know how you were surprised at how he acted."
Fair point. "It was more about him calling me pathetic, but I guess you're right."
I sank into my seat and looked out the window, reading the highway signs as we neared home. Anything to distract me from how awful I had left this weekend.
"For what it's worth," Aaron spoke, interrupting my pouting, "while I do think you were a bad person, it doesn't mean that's how you're gonna be forever. You made a mistake. You hurt people. It's not cool, it's not okay, but now you either mope around and wait for Landon to call you again or you accept that guy won't be you anymore."
"How do I make sure I'm not that guy anymore?"
Aaron looked over at me once again. "I'm in marketing, not therapy. A shrink can probably guide you better than the guy you gave head to in a casino bathroom."
I chuckled, fixing my posture. "I don't know, he's been a good ear to the guy he met a few hours ago."
"Hopefully a better fuck too," he said. My eyebrows raised slightly and I felt a chill run down my spine.
Seeing my reaction, Aaron's eyes returned to the road, grinning. "Another day, of course. I think you might need some time to unwind on your own. Take a bath, schedule a therapy session, then get yourself together again."
If only it could be achieved as quickly as he said it. "And, after all that, would you like to grab some dinner sometime?"
Aaron let out an exaggerated sigh, raising his sharp shoulders to his ears before dramatically letting them drop. "I suppose I'll have to do a follow-up. I gotta say, don't change too much. I like a lot of you already."
-
With only work to keep me busy, the rest of the week dragged horrendously. My phone was just a reminder of how disposable I was in this whole situation. One check-up text from Aaron, an unanswered group chat from the guys that went dead after the weekend ended, and silence from Landon. Even Tara had texted, albeit only to tell me that I could keep the tux from the wedding and the trip security deposit was non-refundable. At least my bank account matched my mood.
Even my regular students noticed my change in mood as I guided my classes. Claudia and Jolene, two retired women who had become regulars every Wednesday, hung back as I cleaned up.
"Dear, you hardly smiled the whole night, are you alright?" Jolene asked as Claudia sipped the last of her wine. While we provided the drinks, the two often brought their own bottles. They insisted it was a preference, which was just code for our wine being too cheap. I didn't hold it against them.
"Just some stuff at home, but nothing too bad. I'll be back to normal next," I promised, hoping my relaxed smile was foolproof.
Claudia walked up beside her friend, her large purse tucked under her shoulder. "Trouble in paradise?"
"Claudia!" Jolene exclaimed, softly elbowing her side. We all shared a laugh.
I gave a "so-so" motion with my hand. "Nothing I can't come back from."
"I keep telling you, my daughter Kristen just moved into town. You two could hit it off!" Claudia suggested.
"Oh, please. He's a young man, he doesn't want a woman going into her fifties," Jolene insisted. "She just won't stop chasing that discount, hun."
I didn't blame her, and a few days ago I might've even said yes with how I was feeling. I could do older, but I also didn't need someone who could pass as my parent. After a bit of chit-chat, goodbyes, and some light cleaning I finally left.
I got home and crashed onto my bed, instinctively opening Instagram. Surprise - Landon had finally blocked me. Piece of shit.
The cycle continued for the rest of that week; get up, workout, do errands, work, and stalk the groomsmen on social media for updates. The destination wedding went on without a hiccup: gorgeous beach, fun activities, drinks all around. Landon looked overjoyed in all of them. It made me bitter, but I couldn't look away.
I drank myself to sleep that Saturday, waking up groggily at noon. The first thing I did was, of course, check my phone. Bradley's story was the latest. It was from the wedding ceremony, featuring Landon and Tara sharing their first kiss as a lawfully wedded couple.
I tossed my phone onto the mattress and pulled my sheets over my head.
-
If there's anything I learned from sitcoms, it is that sometimes a bar is all you need. I didn't visit Alessandro's as often as I had when I was younger, mostly because bars every weekend tend to be less fun the further you get from 21. Luckily, Alessandro's had always been more lowkey compared to the clubs that surrounded it. It had the maturity that pretentious college students who tried their hardest to seem deep and enjoy whiskey adored.
I sat by myself at the bar, nursing my second beer of the night. For a weekend, Alessandro's wasn't super busy, but enough to where the bartender wasn't available to chat. It had been two weeks since Landon's wedding and I was still mourning what had happened at Parsons.
As if it couldn't get any worse, an unwelcome voice directed itself in my way. "You've lost weight."
I rolled my eyes instinctively, turning to confirm the source. My ex-boyfriend, Ian, was reclining against the bar, eyeing me from top to bottom, his piercing eyes finally settling on mine.
"Well, sometimes when you get cheated on, things happen," I said with annoyance, taking another swig from my bottle. Okay, yeah, I was a hypocrite, but Ian didn't know that.
Nor was he in a position to argue. We had spent half a year together when I had accidentally seen the texts from another guy. It had fucked with my trust issues and optimism in romance entirely. I at least had the peace of not seeing his crappy self again.
Or so I thought. "What do you want? Don't you have anyone else to bother?"
Ian's eyes looked back at a booth, empty with a signed receipt and tip on the table. "Nope. Mark just left, got into a fight. Maybe that'll cheer you up."
Oh, so he was dating the guy he cheated on me with? At least something came out of screwing me over. "Why? He found your texts to another guy?"
It was Ian's turn to roll his eyes. "No, I learned my lesson. He's just-" He contemplated continuing, taking a seat beside me instead. "We live together, I just don't feel like going home yet, alright? Just wanted to check in on you, I guess."
"Why would you think you can just come up to me after what you did to me?" I snapped. "You're either real fucking cocky or just downright stupid."
The Ian I knew before had always been very confrontational, always prepared to talk back with a snarky comment in a second. I expected that reaction, but this Ian kept his composure. This Ian had shame plastered on his face.
"You're right," he said. "And I know I'm never gonna be able to make it up to you."
"I'm glad we agree," I concluded, turning back to face the bar completely and reaching for my beer. I assumed this was the end of the conversation, another awful addition to my already crappy time.
