Iced Romance (24 page)

I suppress a smile and unlock my door. It’s good to be back.

I feel liberated. I know I should be drained and devastated and all that, but I’m not. Not this time. I did something I needed to do and it was hard, and it sucked. But now I’m on the right track.

Maybe my bucket list dream of being happy isn’t such a stretch anymore.

Once I’m inside, I sit down on the couch and quickly go over my options. I should call Leila. I need the whole best friend strength thing to give me the courage to talk to David, and Jesica is clearly too busy with Carlos to hold my hand. Besides, I want to tell Leila that I’m back, that I’m done with Todd, that I’m not getting married today. And then I need to talk to him.

To my David.

I call Leila’s cell and within a few minutes I tell her the whole story. She’s smoking in the alley behind Maxie’s and lets out a whoop that possibly damages my eardrum when I tell her that I’m back. “No more Todd,” I tell her happily. “I’ve made up my mind and this time it feels like I actually chose it. It wasn’t forced on me, like last time. I’m done.”

Leila talks a bit longer, begging for details. The only thing I hold back is the bit about Emily Poole. It’s not a pride thing; I’m not humiliated about the truth anymore; I’m not ashamed that my fiancé thought so little of me that he slept with my alleged best friend hours before the wedding. It’s more that I meant what I told them. I’m done with the gossip and speculation. Leila doesn’t need to know the dirt.

Nobody does.

After fifteen minutes, Leila has given me enough of a pep talk that I feel as if I can talk to David. Or wrestle a tiger. I’m not sure which one needs more strength, but I can do either. I’m sure of it.

I crack my knuckles and cross the fingers of my left hand while my right one punches in those familiar digits.

Ring.

Come on, David. Answer. We need to figure everything out.

Ring again.

Where are you? Sure, it’s ten in the morning, but you’re at work and I’m calling your cell. You can answer.

Unless maybe he doesn’t want to answer, I think harshly. Maybe Leila was exaggerating his worry for me. Maybe him showing up at the restaurant was because he was hungry. Although, truthfully, he didn’t seemed overly impressed with the food the one time he ate there. He’d said that even McDonald’s tasted better. So it couldn’t have been the food that made him go to the restaurant yesterday. I’m positive.

Ring a third time, and then I hear a tight “Hello?”

I lick my lips. “David? Hi, it’s Kennedy. Sorry to call you at work.” There is some background noise, a few people chattering, the normal sounds of an office. “I hope this isn’t a bad time,” I add.

There is the heaviest pause I have ever experienced, so heavy that it is an almost tangible weight. Then, with ice in his voice, David speaks. “Kennedy Carter. Or is it Kennedy Marusiak now? Sorry, I didn’t realize that it was usual protocol to call an old boyfriend on your wedding day.”

He’s mad. He’s really mad. I swallow the nasty build up of spit that has accumulated in my throat from nerves and clear my throat to keep it from cracking.

“I’m not getting married today,” I say quickly. “I’m not getting married.”

“Oh, you postponed it to tomorrow, did you? What were you thinking, Kennedy? Why did you bother to call me now? To apologize? To tell me that, hey, guess what, I know we were dating, but I’m marrying someone else today? Leila told me that you ran off with Todd again. You don’t have to call me. You go be with your wonderful Todd and let sleeping dogs lie.”

He says Todd’s name like it’s a dirty word.

It is a dirty word.

“I’m not marrying him,” I interject. “I went with him to Orlando because I was mad. I was hurt that you confronted me and then Todd showed up at the restaurant without me knowing he was coming and there were reporters and flowers and it was a big mess and I went with it. I’m sorry.”

I wish I was speaking to him in person. I wish I could see his face, hold his hands and kiss away all the doubt from his mind.

I continue before he can cut in. “So, basically, I was an idiot, but I’ve made things right. That’s what I wanted to tell you! I’m done with Todd! I broke things off with him forever. We’re done. There isn’t going to be a wedding. Not today. Not ever.”

There is another pause and I wait. This is the moment when David cheers or laughs or breaks into song. Something by Backstreet Boys, maybe, or how about “I Do (Cherish You)”
by 98 Degrees? That would be appropriate. Although singing one’s emotions only ever happens on
Glee
, not in real life.

“I can’t believe you, Kennedy. Are you listening to yourself? We were dating. You and me. I felt things for you that I’ve never felt for a girl before. No, we weren’t together for five years like you and Marusiak, but we had something. We were going somewhere. Then you ran off with your ex who you claimed you were ‘over’ and ended up two minutes away from getting married. And you expect me to listen to you? To what, throw my arms around you and tell you how happy I am that you chose me over him?” His voice is dripping with contempt and bitterness. Each word is like a slap across my face.

“But, I can explain,” I choke. My throat is beginning to constrict. I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe!

“Just stop. You can take your bloody boyfriend and your money and your lies and you can rot in hell. You’ve led me on for weeks. You’ve been dreaming about him while letting me think we had something together. You are pathetic. I hope you find your happiness, Kennedy, but you’re not finding it with me.”

“David, please!” I try to cut in, but all I hear is the dial tone.

He hung up on me. I can’t believe he hung up on me.

He hates me.

I hate me too.

How could I have been so naïve? How could I have thought that David really did love me, that he really cared about me when I had been such a jerk and trampled on his heart? Of course he’s mad. And hurt.

I’m the biggest jerk in the planet. Possibly even worse than Todd.

I’ve become everything I never wanted to become.

I let the phone fall back into the cradle and, zombie-like, make my way into my bedroom.

I’ve betrayed someone I care about. I’ve hurt David in ways that I can’t imagine. And, like a boomerang, the pain has come back to me.

I need to find a hole to fall into. Like Alice maybe I can disappear forever down a rabbit hole.

I need to cry.

I need help.

“So I’m taking off. Argentina, I think. I’ve never learned a second language, and maybe it’s time. Spanish will be cool to know. My cab will be here in about five minutes, so I guess this is goodbye.” I finish my monologue and stop.

There is silence on the phone until Leila says cautiously, “You’re running away? Again? Why don’t you just face up to your issues? You hurt David, but he loves you. Don’t go running away from it all. Don’t be a coward.”

“I’m not a coward!” The words sting. “Who are you to judge? You have no idea what I’ve been through!” I’m shouting into the phone, holding it a few inches from my face. I am itching to throw it at the wall, to stomp on it, to hurt it.

Leila’s voice raises but remains steady. “I do have an idea, actually. You’ve had a crappy last few weeks. Your fiancé cheated, you’ve had to find your way in a new place, with new people and a new job. Your face has been plastered all over the newspapers and strangers accost you on the street and quiz you about your personal life. I get it, okay. It sucks. But the thing is, you can’t just run away. Have you never heard the saying shit happens? Cause it does. And it sucks and you move on. You can’t disappear and start again every time life gets a little bit crappy.”

I say nothing, but I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut.

“You have more gumption than this, Kennedy. You don’t have to be a coward anymore.”

“I have no other choice.” I find my voice but it is weak. Cowardly. I am a coward.

“You always have another choice,” Leila says firmly. “And what about David? You’re going to run off without telling him?”

It hurts my heart to think about it, but yes, that is exactly what I’m planning on doing. I merely grunt for a reply, and Leila sighs.

“I won’t let you. If you go, I’m calling David. He has a right to know.”

I feel weary, completely worn out. I have no fight left in me. I collapse against the sofa and rest my head in my hands. “Fine. Call him. It doesn’t matter. I’m leaving, Leila. For real. This is the only thing I know how to do.”

“Then you are not even half the person I thought you were.” Leila’s words are fierce. She hangs up the phone and I stare blankly ahead.

I’ve never heard silence quite this loud.

A horn honks outside. I gather my bags, haul them through the door, lock it behind me, and pile everything into the cab. The ride to the airport is short. There’s hardly any traffic today. I watch the palm trees as we speed by. They don’t look foreign anymore, the way they did when I arrived here. They look nice, comforting. They look homey.

I might cry. We pass by other familiar places. Target. Gatorland. The little lake where David and I went jogging.

It’s better this way. I’ll get off the plane in Argentina and life will make sense.

I lose track of time. Somehow we arrive at the airport, I pay my cabbie, then buy a one way ticket to Argentina, check in my two suitcases, and make my way through security.

I am nearing my terminal to board the plane when I stop. My feet feel heavy, and I don’t know if I can take one more step. It’s as if I’ve hit a barrier or a brick wall. I try to step forward again but I cannot.

Don’t do it, the little voice in my head says. Don’t run away. Go find David, stand in front of him face to face. Tell him you were wrong. Tell him you’re done with running. And if he hates you, so what? At least you’ve shown him that you’re not a quitter. You’re not going to run away from the best thing that has ever happened to you. Go back to your apartment. Apologize to Leila. She’s the closest thing you’ve had to a best friend in a long time. Find Jesica and Carlos and spend the afternoon with them. They are becoming family. Don’t run away from all that.

My hands are shaking. I lean against my carry-on suitcase and rub my forehead with my fingers, massaging away the headache that’s been lurking under the surface all morning. My palms are cold, clammy, despite it being a hundred and ten degrees outside.

I can’t do it this time. I can’t run. I’ve found the life I’ve missed for the past five years. I’ve found friends, a family, and I’ve found a man who very possibly could be my Prince Charming if I would only let him in.

Leila’s right. And so is my cab driver from the day before, lecturing me about facing my problems head on. It is wrong to run. Even though I don’t know for sure what David means to me, or even if he ever will forgive me, I think I want to find out.