Shattered Perfection (23 page)

I go directly to the one I most familiar with and can find with no difficulty.  After a short conversation with the gate guard, and an I.D. check, he directs me to the leasing office.  They happen to have a two-bedroom unit available.  I really only need one, but I’ll take what they have.  It’s located in the middle of the complex, which the agent keeps referring to as the community, and I suppose is more apt.  It’s enormous and made up of several large buildings, each with three floors, with numerous units per floor.  I can’t even begin to estimate how many apartments in total comprise this “community.” 

The unit itself overlooks one of the three pools on the grounds, which is nice.  Definitely a better view than the parking lot.  The apartment itself is spacious with gray wall to wall carpeting and stark white walls.  It appears to be roomy enough to accommodate the furniture I have in storage.  The kitchen is small, but is attractive with walnut cabinets, black granite countertops and a gas range.  It has double-paned windows, which reduce any noise from outside, and it faces east, so it won’t catch the afternoon sun.  It’s a bit of a drive to work and the traffic will be no fun, but it’s far from Vance’s house.  I can definitely live here.

I let the leasing agent know that I want it, and want to move in this weekend, if possible.  She beams at me, so she must work on commission.  We go back to the leasing office where we fill out the necessary paperwork and she runs my credit.  After about an hour, I am in possession of the keys to my new home and am on my way back to the hotel to make arrangements with movers for Friday.

Finally, I flop on the bed completely exhausted.  I have checked all the boxes on my mental to-do list and have earned a well-deserved rest.  It dawns on me that I haven’t eaten a single thing.  I’ve been running all day on the pot of coffee I had this morning.  I should order something from room service, but I’m really not hungry and am frankly too tired to even lift the phone to place the order.  I look at my luggage and decide I will unpack some things for the rest of the week tomorrow, and fold the rest in the hope that I can keep them from getting too wrinkled, although that’s probably a lost cause.  Yawning, I decide to spend one more night in my sweatshirt and leggings, and yes, my day old panties, even though that’s super nasty.  I’m just too fucking tired to do anything but crawl under the covers and sleep until noon tomorrow.

When I wake the next day, which is indeed just before noon and nearly check out time, I call the front desk again and extend my stay until Friday morning.  Having accomplished all my goals the day before, I’m at a loss as to what to do with myself after I complete my unpacking and folding of my clothes.  I’m still not hungry, but decide I should get out and eat something.  After a quick shower, I throw my hair up into a pony tail and put on a pair of well-worn jeans and a t-shirt.  I slide my feet into the one pair of sneakers I managed to grab in my packing frenzy and head out in search of food, but with no real destination in mind.

To my surprise, I find myself sitting out in front of Justin’s house again.  I hadn’t planned on coming here.  Wasn’t even really thinking about anything other than the fact that it would be nice to have some company to help keep my mind off everything that’s happened, and my car pointed itself in this direction.  I question the wisdom of being here, because Justin is the last person to take my mind off things.  If I talk to him, the conversation is sure to center on Vance.

Just as I’m about to put my car in drive and pull away, the front door opens and Justin comes strolling down the walkway, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie.  He comes up to the passenger window and just stands there looking at me until I roll down the window.  I hang my head in shame, or defeat, or I don’t know what emotion I’m feeling.

“You’re sitting out in front of my house again, Peaches.  You got something against knocking?” he asks.

“I don’t know what it is, Justin.  Every time I come here, I always have second thoughts and think I should drive away, but before I can, you catch me.”

“Well, you might as well come in.  As you said, I’ve caught you again, and I’m assuming you’ve got something to talk about.  So come in and we’ll talk.”

“Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to get something to eat.  I haven’t eaten in a while, and could use a good meal.”

His eyes narrow at me.  “How long is a while?”

I wince and say in a small voice, “Lunch, day before yesterday.”

“I assume you have a good reason why, other than you are on some fool diet?”

“Come with me and I’ll explain everything,” I promise.

Justin locks up his house then jumps in my car.  “Where we going, darlin’?”

“I was hoping you might have some ideas.  I’m just hungry, but really don’t care what I eat.  My appetite is a little screwy right now.”

“Since it’s been a while since you’ve had anything to eat, we should probably go light on you.  Maybe soup and a sandwich, or something like that,” he says.

Justin directs me to a small twenty-four hour diner near his house.  It looks kind of questionable to me, with its peeling wall paper and cracked red vinyl booths, but Justin assures me it will pass the health code, pointing to the A rating in the window, and insists the food is good.

We take a booth in the back and the waitress is with us almost immediately with menus and to take our drink orders.  While we’re waiting, Justin finally notices the injuries on my neck and his eyes widen.

“What the hell happened to you, Mimi?” he says pointing at my neck.

I look down at the table, not wanting to say what I have to say, unsure how it will affect his friendship with Vance.  Maybe it isn’t fair of me to tell him.  He is one of Vance’s best friends after all, and I probably shouldn’t be coming between them.  But I have made a good friend of Justin, too.  I don’t want to bad mouth Vance to his friend, but I need Justin to know what he did, maybe to help me make sense of all this, even though I know there is none to be had.

Without looking up, I say softly, “Vance happened.”

He sucks in a harsh breath and whispers angrily, “You’re shitting me.”

I quickly look up at him with wide eyes.  Does he not believe me?  “No, I wouldn’t joke around about this or make it up.  He got very upset with me the night before last and when I stood up to him, he attacked me.”

“Not that it matters, but what was he upset about?”  Justin asks.

“He didn’t like the dinner I made for him,” I whisper.

“What?”

Just then the waitress comes with our drinks and to take our orders.  Neither of us has even looked at the menu, but being that it’s a diner, I take a chance and simply order a grilled cheese and fries.  Justin orders a burger and onion rings. 

“I just can’t believe it, Mimi,” he says shaking his head.  “Vance isn’t that kind of guy.  He has always taken care of people smaller than him, looked out for people who were vulnerable.  I just can’t accept that he would hurt you.”

I feel my stomach drop and tears prickle my eyes.  Coming to Justin was definitely a mistake.  Vance told me he was fiercely loyal.  I should have known he’d take his side.

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Justin, but I guess I understand why you don’t believe me,” I place my napkin on the table and prepare to stand.

“Sit down, Mimi.  I’m not saying I don’t believe you.  I’m just shocked.  I don’t want to believe it’s true, even with the evidence staring me in the face.  I don’t know what’s happened to him.”

“I guess he’s not the guy we all thought he was,” I say.

“Now that I definitely know is not true.  I have known him almost my whole life.  I know exactly who Vance Ashcroft is, and this is most definitely not him.  There’s something wrong.  Has he been drinking heavily or something?  Has he gotten into drugs?” he asks.

“He does drink more than he used to, but I wouldn’t say he drinks heavily.  I’ve never seen him use any drugs.  I suppose it’s possible, since he spends so much time away from me.  I always thought it was because of all the stress he’s under, but after all this time, I think it’s just who he is, Justin.  It’s always been in him, he’s just been good at hiding it from everyone.”

“Well, I am sure as hell going to find out.  If I have to kick his ass, I’ll do it.  You don’t beat on a woman for any reason, so he’s definitely got that coming to him.  But I’m telling you, something is wrong and I’m going to figure it out.”

“I hope you can, for the sake of your friendship.  As for me and Vance, it’s done.  I’ll never stay with a man who hurts me, and I’ll never be able to forgive him for it.  I overlooked the verbal abuse for months, but he threatened to kill me.”  I leave out the part where he tried to rape me.  Justin doesn’t need to know the whole dirty business.  “I won’t stick around waiting for that, or anything else to happen.”

He nods in acknowledgement.  “So what are you going to do?”

“I’ve already filed for a temporary protection order and a restraining order.  If he hasn’t been yet, he’ll soon be served with the paperwork.  Once I get my head around it, I’ll be filing for a divorce.”

He places both hands on the table and leans back against the seat, blowing out a breath.  “I’m sorry, Mimi.  I know how much you love him.”

“Loved.  How much I loved him,” I say firmly.  “He killed everything I had left for him the other night.”

Justin takes one of my hands in his over the table and just holds it.  Neither of us says anything more until the food comes.  Despite my lack of appetite, I manage to finish my sandwich and all of my fries.  Our meal is quiet, both of us lost in thought.   As we are walking out of the diner, I clear my throat a little before speaking quietly.

“I want you to know that I have enjoyed our friendship.  You have always been very nice to me, and it was good to feel a connection to one of Vance’s friends.  You, more than any of the other guys, made me feel very accepted.”  I look up at him with the brightest smile I can muster.

“What are you saying, Mimi?”

“I know that with this separation, your loyalty to Vance will require you to choose a side.  I just want you to know that I understand that.  I am sorry that we won’t be friends anymore, but there won’t be any hard feelings from me,” I say as we reach my car.

He stops and turns me to face him.  “Yes, I will always have a loyalty to Vance, but you are my good friend too, so you also have my loyalty.  I won’t choose sides.  I am going to figure out what’s going on, Mimi.  Maybe it’s too late to fix things for the two of you.  It probably is.  But I won’t abandon either of you.”

He pulls me in for a long, warm hug that I really, really need.  We stay that way for a few minutes, until I pull away, discreetly wiping my eyes.   I thank him softly before getting in the car.  We drive back to his house silently, and I drop him off with only a short good bye and a promise to talk again soon.

Friday finally rolls around and I meet the movers at the storage space.  Fortunately, all the stuff is mine.  Vance and I never blended any of our stuff in here when we made room for some of my belongings at the house.  All of his displaced items went into the garage.  The movers are efficient and the space is cleared out within an hour.  The longest part of the day seems to be the drive to the apartment, because they unload the items in the apartment as fast as they picked them up. 

I spend the rest of the weekend organizing the apartment, which is a godsend because it keeps my mind busy.  Finally on Sunday evening, with everything put away and the furniture arranged the way I want it, I flop on the sofa, one very tired woman.  I realize I haven’t turned on my cell phone since Monday, when I turned it off because Vance was calling.  I am loathe to turn it on, but I have to.  I can’t stay incommunicado for very long.  There are people who will worry about me, especially if they can’t get ahold of me at home.  God only knows what Vance has told them if anyone has tried.

I power it up and learn my voicemail is full.  Most of the calls are from Vance, although those stop on Tuesday, I assume after he received the TRO.  I forward through those messages without listening to them, but for some reason I don’t delete them.  There are a couple messages from my mom, one from Grace, two from Laurel, one from Jessica and finally one from Bob.  I forward through them all except the one from Bob, thinking I’ll get back to everyone during the week, in my own time.  I’m not eager to share the news of my split with Vance with everyone.  Bob’s message is sweet, offering me more time off if I need it, and again letting me know if I need money, he’s willing to give me a loan.  I’ll be back at work tomorrow, so I’ll thank him then.

I decide to turn in early, so I can get a start on my life post-Vance.  It won’t be easy, but I will persevere until I have achieved a new normal and everything is okay once again.  A little voice inside my head wonders if my heart will ever recover, but I squash it and push it aside.  Who needs a heart, anyway?

I spend the next few weeks getting through by putting one foot in front of the other and making mental to-do lists like I did the day after I left Vance.  It’s really the only thing that keeps me sane.  If I don’t, I will have time to stop and think about what I have lost, how much I hurt, and I know that will be my undoing.  So I continue forth, one step at a time, one task at a time, calling each day completed a victory.

So far, I have avoided telling everyone the news, except for Laurel.  I broke down and called her somewhere at the end of the second week and laid it all out for her.  It was one giant tear fest on my end, with her vacillating between quietly listening, cursing his name and threatening some very creative bodily harm to particular parts of his anatomy.  Mostly though, she was sympathetic and supportive, and even offered to come out for a visit to help me through.  I declined, knowing how busy things are at work for her, but promised if things got too rough, I’d tell her right away.  She promised to be with me in a flash, bringing along with her sharpest set of kitchen knives.

I’d managed to avoid the rest of the girls at work, which wasn’t terribly difficult since we all worked in different departments and on different floors of our building.  I simply avoided the lunchroom and ate at my desk, or took a late lunch if I had forgotten to bring something with me.  I’d come in early and leave late in order to avoid any run-ins at the elevator.  Somewhere toward the end of the third week however, my luck is up, and I see Grace’s extension flash across the LED display on my office phone one afternoon.  She’d left a few messages on my voicemail since I left Vance, and I know she is aware I have moved out by the last message she left.  I just haven’t been able to face telling everyone the truth about what happened.  This time she calls though, I know I have to answer if I don’t want to damage my relationship with my friend.  I take a deep breath and pick up the receiver.

“Hi Grace,” I answer.

“Oh my god!” she practically yells into the phone.  “She lives and breathes.  I was beginning to wonder if I was ever going to hear your voice again.  You have a lot of explaining to do, Mimi.”

“I know, but please, go easy on me, okay?  This is not the easiest time in my life right now.”  I say, my voice cracking, much to my irritation.

“Oh, sweetheart.  I didn’t mean to be insensitive.  I’m just worried.  When you didn’t respond to my messages, I called the house and Vance said you didn’t live there anymore, I just didn’t know what to make of it.  He wouldn’t tell me anything, just told me to ask you and hung up on me.  When did you move out, Mimi, and why?”

“It’s been about three weeks, now.  The why of it is a long story that I can’t get into while I’m here at work.  Maybe we could meet for drinks or dinner?” I suggest.

“Are you busy tonight?  I have to work until six, but I can meet you anywhere after that.  You just name the place and I am there.”

I think about it for a minute.  I am not eager to relive the last six months for any reason, but she’s one of my closest friends and deserves to know what’s going on.  I don’t have anything on my to-do list for the evening.  I had only planned to have a date with a frozen chicken pot pie and a cheesy romance novel I’d been trying to read, but that was probably not the best idea for me anyway.  It was best to face the music if I was truly going to move forward with my life.

“Alright.  How about we meet at The Cantina at eight for margaritas?  Will that work for you?” I offer.

“I will be there.  Should I bring Jessica and Liz?  If you just want it to be us, I’ll understand.  I can fill them in for you, or you can tell them individually on your own,” she offers gently.

I consider it for a moment.  I don’t want it to become a big gossiping session about my love life, but I also don’t want to have to retell the story over and over.  I decide that ripping off the Band-Aid in one pull is probably the best way to go.

“Go ahead and give them a call, see if they can make it,” I say.  “Just let them know it’s not going to be a Vance-bashing session, no matter how much they might want to make it one after I tell everything I have to say.  Okay?”

“No problem, Mimi.  We’re your friends and we’ll support you any way you need it.”

“Thanks, Grace.  I’ll see you at eight.”

As usual, I’m the last to arrive at the restaurant.  I take a seat at the table, where there is already an enormous margarita waiting for me.  I look around at the girls with one eyebrow raised.  “Did somebody bother to order a snorkel to go with this?”

Liz pipes up.  “We thought you might need some extra fortification to get through tonight.  Look, there’s even two straws.”  She smiles and gestures toward the kiddie pool of frothy, pale green liquid.

“Just in case you need extra encouragement,” Jessica chimes in.

I smile and shake my head.  “Thanks, girls.  I can always count on you to have my back.”

Rather than shining the spotlight on me immediately, we order some appetizers and chat about our days for a little while.  It gives me a chance to unwind and sip enough to make a dent in my super-sized margarita.  Inevitably, the conversation does turn to me, but by the time it happens, I’m sufficiently lubricated and feel like I can talk about it without falling apart.  Too much, anyway.

I explain from the beginning; the small changes in Vance that eventually escalated into his outright hostility and verbally abusive behavior; my continued hope that it was just the stress of his job taking a toll on him, and that he would eventually return to his normal persona, but the night he attacked me being the final straw and with it coming the realization that the person I thought he was—the man that I had married, was a fictitious character.  I had rushed into a marriage with a man before truly getting to know him and paid the price.

“You don’t truly believe that, do you, Mimi?” Grace asked.  “I know you two married quickly, but you’re not a silly girl.  You had to be pretty certain of him to have made such a serious decision.  Besides, most people show their true colors within three months.  It’s pretty hard to keep up a façade for a whole year.  I think if he were a real beast, he would have shown that side of himself long before.”

Liz and Jessica nod in agreement.  I look around at the three of them, dumbfounded. 

“You can’t possibly be defending him.”

Liz, our wise and thoughtful one, looks at me sympathetically.  “Of course not, Mimi.  We all think you made the right decision, the only decision you could make under the circumstances.  It’s just that something doesn’t add up here, and none of us wants to see you begin to question yourself going forward.”

“That’s right,” Jessica says.  “Your judgment was sound.  We don’t know Vance like you do, of course, but we’ve all met him.  You even mentioned Justin says this is totally out of character for him and he’s known him his whole life.  There’s no forgiving what he did, I’m not even coming close to saying that you should.  I just feel like there’s got to be more to this.”

I close my eyes to fight back the tears that are threatening, but it’s no use.  I open them back up and let them flow.  “Nobody wants to believe that more than I do, ladies.  I loved this man with my whole being.  I hung in there while he was absolutely awful to me because I didn’t want to let go of that love for him, of the dream of the life we were supposed to have together, of the happiness he had brought me when things were good.  In the end, I have to.  I will go mad if I keep clinging to the idea that someday he will come back to me, that he will be my Vance again and we will have that happily ever after that I believed in when we got married.  Not only that, it’s dangerous for me to stay now.  He physically hurt me and threatened to kill me.  I can’t keep loving a man who would do that to me.  I have to put it all behind me, stop thinking that there is some mysterious reason that made him behave the way he did and just accept that it’s part of him.  My heart is already broken.  It will stay that way forever if I keep looking for a reason to justify what he did.”

Grace digs in her purse for a tissue, finally producing a whole travel pack.  I gratefully accept them, and mop the tears from my face.  I’m slightly embarrassed for breaking down, but these are my girls.  I know they don’t see me as weak.

Everyone seems to understand the subject is closed with what I’ve confessed and the conversation turns to more mundane topics.  I switch to water after I finish my margarita, because let’s face it, anything more and I’ll be blowing over the legal limit, if I’m not already. 

We wind things up around eleven and I drive home feeling very tired.  I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or if it’s because I finally admitted my feelings out loud, but I’m beat.  My confession to the girls was more than I’ve even admitted to myself before now.  I know I told Justin that I no longer loved Vance, but that’s not true.  I will love Vance for a very long time, if not forever.  But I see Vance as two very different and distinct people now.  There’s the Vance that I met and fell hard for, the man my soul recognized instantly, and Vance, the stranger who entered my life six or so months ago.  It hurts my heart and my head to think about it, so I try to push it aside.  A little denial goes a long way to surviving a broken heart.

I go back to living with my mental to-do lists, but take time to spend with the girls every other week or so.  They keep me from turning into a hermit.  Surprisingly, Justin calls to check in on me regularly, too.  We don’t talk for too long, and we never talk about Vance, but I can tell he wants to.  Whenever he even starts to hint that he might bring him up in the conversation, I cut him off and find a reason to hang up.  It’s just too painful to think about him, let alone hear about anything to do with him.  I refuse to talk about him from my perspective too.  Justin has tried to get me to talk about my feelings, but I won’t.  I’m trying to move on, and if Justin wants to be my friend, he has to learn to be one independent of any and all things Vance Ashcroft.  Still, I’m grateful that he wants to be a part of my life, because he’s a good man, and a very good friend. 

Three months into my post-Vance life, as I have come to think of it, I am walking out of a Starbucks near my office on a beautiful mid-May Wednesday morning, with a latte I sorely need since I dashed out of the house without my coffee.  To my utter shock, I run face first into Vance’s chest.  Fortunately, I manage to hold onto my coffee and not spill it all over myself or him, but it’s a close call.  I’m startled to see him, not only because he’s not supposed to be near me, but because he looks like hell.  He has lost at least twenty pounds, his complexion is very pale and the circles that had started to form under his eyes when we were last together are even darker now.  His once gloriously thick and wavy hair now hangs lank and dull over his forehead.  My instant reaction is concern for him, but then my anger sets in.  I don’t even pause to be afraid, because honestly with the state of his physical condition, he doesn’t look like much of a threat to anyone.

“What are you doing here, Vance?”  I say as I move out of the doorway to let another patron who is trying to leave pass by.  “Are you following me?”

He lets go of the door and follows me as I move away.  “I need to talk to you, Mimi.  I know I’m not supposed to be near you, but this is important.  I need you to hear me out.”

“There is nothing you can say to me that I am interested in hearing, Vance.  You need to leave,” I say as I begin to walk down the street toward my office building.