James and I had planned to get married for the longest time. It seemed to take forever for him to find the romantic moment for him to kneel and ask me to be his bride.
The ring was perfect. I said YES!
I was so excited to finally plan my wedding. I had been imagining every detail since I was seven or eight. I knew the kind of dress I'd wear, the church we would have it in, the way I would look as I walked down the aisle to become Mrs. James Hook. It would be beautiful. I would be beautiful. It would be perfect and would be etched into the memory of every girl in the room. They would aspire to match it in their own weddings.
The day of the wedding came and it was everything I could have hoped for. Everything was perfect and I remember every single moment: getting up, getting dressed, frantically looking for a missing bridesmaid, walking down the aisle, James slipping the ring on my finger, the thrill as he lifted my veil, the smell of Angie's perfume as he kissed me.
I didn't make the connection to that scent until much later. The honeymoon was romantic and moving into our condo overlooking the river was just another part of my dream.
I settled into my married life. But, unlike in my dreams, James did not.
Not only was he carrying on with my friend Angie but I learned that he had been cheating with Marie, and he had gotten some stripper pregnant. I was livid.
James ruined my dream of perfection and didn't seem to care. I kicked him out, filed for divorce, and moved on. I wasn't going to let his low life ways ruin my happiness. I moved on. Sure, I still wore the ring because it was pretty and I was keeping it and the other crap he had left behind as a reminder not to let anyone get under my skin again. Ever again.
My life would move on and he would have to deal with his baby mammas and whatever else on his own.
A few months passed and I was meandering through the quaint shops that line a section of town that everyone calls the "Alleys". Really they were just a couple side streets that got blocked off to become a hipster open air mall. It wasn't much but sometimes I could find some good deals.
I was looking at some locally made pottery when I heard a familiar voice calling my name.
"Hey Audrey!" It was Lena. Lena wasn't an ugly girl by any means. She just had a bad habit of picking unattractive trends. This was exactly the type of place she would spend time in. "I haven't seen you since... in a while." I tried not to focus on her uneven eyebrows as she clumsily referenced the farce my once perfect wedding had become.
"Hi Lena," I said and she pulled me in for a hug and I relented. Simultaneously I tried to be friendly but not have her mess up my hair or pass the smell of whatever she had stepped in on to me. She was the type who liked to touch.
"How have you been?" she asked insisting to hold my hands. I could tell by her voice she was mocking the failure of my short, doomed marriage to James. I could feel her fingers fiddling with the ring on my finger. I tried to ignore the feeling that she might try to pull it off. She looked at my hand and then back to my face. "Did you get married again?" Already, so soon, even though you couldn't keep a man interested... She didn't say those last things but I felt them.
I shook my head. "I like the ring. It would be a waste to keep it packed away," I said what should have been obvious. She tilted her head and nodded quickly. She squeezed my hands.
"I heard that you were looking for a roommate for your apartment," she blurted out. I assumed she was done trying to humiliate me about my failed marriage. Or perhaps she was trying a different tactic.
"Condo," I corrected her. I ignored the fact that she had clearly been gossiping about me to someone. I had long since realized that people delighted in talking about me regardless of circumstance. But I was above this kind of pettiness. "I have the space and it could help a little with fees and utilities. Nothing major." It wasn't like I needed someone to pay to keep it but the utilities had been a shock when I got the first bill in my name.
Lena nodded and continued holding my hands. "I have a friend that is looking for a place to live. She's sweet. She's been sleeping on her aunt's sofa since she moved back to town." She didn't sound sweet. "Let me introduce you to her. Maybe..." She didn't bother to finish her thought but started looking around down the row of shops for her friend. She started flailing about with one hand while keeping me anchored next to her with the other. People were beginning to stare at her but thankfully she stopped.
A girl who looked like she should still be in high school walked towards us.
"Audrey this is Megan. Megan this is Audrey," Lena said trying to sound regal. "Megan, Audrey has a condo and needs a roommate. It is a gorgeous place with a view of the river." I was about to correct the "needs a roommate" part but Megan jumped in first.
"Oh? That sounds interesting. If you're serious about a roomie, I'd like to talk. I don't want to impose on anyone," Megan was a little taller than me. She had long black hair that she wore fairly plainly. If she put in some loose curls it would be pretty. Actually she looked quite pretty even if her hair wasn't perfect. She was beautiful even though she wasn't wearing much makeup. Big blue eyes, long lashes, full sexy lips, a cute nose, and a few freckles on her cheeks. To top it off her eyebrows were perfect unlike Lena's. She reached out her hand to shake mine. Her nails were clean and well kept.
Her hands confused me. I was expecting very soft hands but hers felt slightly rough. A bit boyish but not in a bad way.
I shook her hand and smiled. I could feel her looking me over so I looked her over as well. She was dressed casually in jeans, a long sleeve t-shirt, and some practical boots. I imagined she attracted quite a few lingering gazes at the pool or dressed for a night on the town.
If I let her move in I would have to lay down the law about boyfriends and such.
"Sure. We can talk about it if you want," I said and she nodded while shaking my hand. Lena of course was delighted.
We exchanged numbers and we agreed that she would come by at the end of the week. I showed her the condo. She was excited to see that her room had its own bathroom and balcony. I told her what I expected from a roommate: rent, food, cleaning, and guests. She agreed to everything and moved in just a week after we met. She didn't have much, just a few bags of clothing, a computer, and little else. She had no furniture, which I was thankful for as I had personally decorated every room in the condo, including the guest room. She didn't have a car but bought a motorcycle from a friend not long after moving in.
She was indeed sweet and quiet. Sometimes I forgot she was even there. She did request to paint her room because everything in the apartment was so white. I didn't want her painting the walls something obnoxious. I agreed to let her hang more stuff from the walls and ceiling. I tried not to look into her room as I walked by.
We settled into our routine of living together.
I'd gotten accustomed to living alone so didn't really think about changing after she moved in. Why would it matter? I'd walk from my room to the kitchen with barely anything on and catch her blushing and looking away. Sometimes she would glare at me when I stood drinking my coffee with just a towel over my shoulder. She would make these little exasperated noises and then pretend she hadn't seen.
I didn't get the impression that she thought I was gross. She just seemed annoyed with me.
I had begun to wonder why she never brought anyone home. Sure I had been adamant that I wanted to be safe in my own home; I didn't want to be attacked by a drunken or angry boyfriend of hers. I liked to enjoy the peace and tranquility so I wasn't upset that I didn't have to deal with her guests. I thought she might be gay but whenever she was on the phone she was talking to some guy. Perhaps she was too busy for that sort of thing. She was always working on something. I was sure she had told me what she did with her time but I wasn't sure if I hadn't paid attention or had just forgotten.
I was also sure that I felt something when I made her blush. It scared me. It made me feel nervous and happy. I liked the feeling and I wanted to make her blush more. So I made a point to walk by her every day.
She, on the other hand, never left her room except when she was fully dressed. I was impressed that she was more fanatical about keeping the place clean. She always would clean up after herself and would even clean up after me. Not that I was messy. I just sometimes forgot to put something away because I was focused on something else.
Aside from wanting to paint her room she was quite the perfect little roommate.
Well she seemed to be at first, but then the blushes and exasperation turned into mean comments. She seemed to think that I was obsessed with James because I was holding onto his stuff, wearing his ring, and still using his last name. But there were quite legitimate reasons for all of that.
Then she began to complain about my walk-bys. She accused me of being an exhibitionist. According to her, every time she saw me I was half or mostly naked. I told her if it bothered her so much she could just look away rather than building up ammo to complain. She didn't have to gawk if she didn't want to. I pointed out that I didn't complain about her or didn't butt into her personal life, if she even had one.
I could hardly believe it when she rolled her eyes at me.
The cold war began.
I had always pictured Saturday mornings as time for James and I to spend in bed making love until noon. We'd lounge around our perfect home, him in his shorts, me in his shirt. A perfect match. He'd make coffee while I made us something to snack on.
