Never Standing Still (The Never Duet #1)(64)
I received a text two times a day; once in the morning, once around bedtime, all from Riot, mostly telling me that he loved me, trying to convince me to call him. Some of them were funny, some of them were normal texts one would send to one’s girlfriend, just telling me about his day. It was emotional warfare.
At first, I was legitimately angry with him. Perhaps ridiculously so, but I felt it was justified. But a week passed, the flowers came, the texts continued, and my anger waned.
Nancy had gotten the low down on what had happened, but she got her information from Marcus, as I didn’t have anything to say about the matter. Until, one night, about ten days after we’d come home early from California, she cornered me as I did dishes.
“When are you going to forgive that poor man?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about. Don’t play dumb, Kalli; it’s not becoming.”
I rolled my eyes, knowing she couldn’t see me. “I’m not sure I haven’t forgiven him,” I said quietly.
“Then why haven’t you called him? Why are the Please Forgive Me flowers still arriving like clockwork?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure we have anything to talk about.”
“Kalli, for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve never been a particularly stubborn person. Strong? Yes. Opinionated? Definitely. But not stubborn, and not to the point of throwing away something wonderful.”
“You weren’t there, Nancy,” I said quietly as I turned off the faucet. “He was just gone. Vanished. Anything could have happened to him.”
“And it could have happened to anyone,” she said quickly. I felt those words in my bones because I knew they were true. I’d lost him before, taken my eyes off him for just a moment only to realize he was gone. I knew it wasn’t Riot’s fault that Marcus had wandered away.
“I know,” I whispered. “I overreacted.”
“Good, well at least you can admit that much. But I want to know why.”
I shrugged again, and moved to sit next to her at the small table in the nook of our kitchen. “Everything with Riot happened so quickly, or at least, it felt like it did. Every time we saw each other it was frantic and fast and full of so much emotion. By our third actual time seeing each other I already felt like I couldn’t breathe without him. But when we lost Marcus, I was beside myself. Even after he was found safe and sound, I couldn’t help but think about the what ifs. What if we hadn’t found him? What if he’d been hurt? And the biggest one was what if I’d never met Riot? What if I hadn’t let myself fall in love with him? We wouldn’t have even been there.” I paused, looking down at the tabletop, picking at my cuticles. “I was so angry at him, Nancy. But as that rage subsided, I knew I was really angry with myself for putting us in that situation. We shouldn’t have been there, I shouldn’t have left Marcus with Riot, it never should have happened.”
“But it did, Kalli. It all happened. And now, the only thing that’s really wrong is that you’re unhappy.” She reached across the table and put her hand over mine, stilling my nervous fingers. “Marcus is fine. He’s happy, he’s healthy, and he’s okay. When will you stop punishing yourself for living your life? He doesn’t want you to be unhappy. And if he could understand why you’re doing this, why you’re keeping yourself from Riot, he’d tell you to stop. He’d want you to be happy.”
“But, that’s not my life, Nancy. Marcus isn’t normal and he can’t understand. He’ll always be this way, and I’ll always need to put him first, and that’s what I’m doing.”
“Punishing yourself is not the same as putting him first.”
“It never would have worked anyway,” I say, pulling my hand from hers, trying to end the conversation, trying to put a nail in the coffin, because I wasn’t ready to resuscitate my relationship with Riot.
The next week I put on a front and went out to celebrate Megan’s last night of being an unmarried woman. Ella was sporting a cute little pregnant belly and looked stupidly happy, and I tried my hardest not to be angry about it. Megan, of course, was elated and drunk, having a blast. I could tell Ella was a little uncomfortable being that we were the only women there over twenty-five and she was most definitely the only pregnant woman. But I sat next to her and watched the drag show commence, entertained by the song and dance, my mind not fully invested and wandering every few minutes to what my heart was consumed with: Riot.
Just when we thought the show was over, Megan wouldn’t let us leave, and after a minute we realized why. Male strippers. This was the part of the bachelorette party where I should have been having the most fun, should have been tipping and drinking, careless and worry-free, but the most I could do was plaster a fake smile on my face and wait for it all to be over.
I didn’t want to be a downer on Megan, although she was so drunk she probably never would have noticed had I spent the duration of the show sobbing in the corner. But I tried to pretend as if everything was fine for the sake of my friend.
It was in moments like those I regretted not being open and honest with the only two friends I had. The problem with secrets was that since I kept one, I was always keeping others. One lie turned into two and they multiplied, burying me. I wanted nothing more than to turn to my best friend and tell her about Riot, and have her tell me what I should do about it. But if I did that, I’d have to tell her about Marcus, and then I’d have to tell her everything, not to mention it would hurt her tremendously if she knew I’d kept such a large part of my life from her.