Authors: Sarah White
I set my pencil down and stand up from my position on the floor next to the couch. Systematically I shut down the TV and DVD player, then find a blanket in the hall closet. I make my way back to the living room and turn out the lights. In the darkness, I curl up on the couch and wrap the blanket over me. With the weight of the world on my shoulders, I close my eyes tight and pray that sleep will come soon.
Noah
The beat of the music pounds from the speakers around the bar. I’m trying hard to forget about what Leah might be doing right now, but as soon as I push one image from my mind another comes floating in. The five shots of whiskey didn’t clear them out, so I’ve moved on to a steady flow of beer. I’m hopeful that eventually I’ll be too drunk to care anymore, or maybe even passed out.
Mandy rubs up against me. The place is packed with far too many people, and we’re pressed to the bar by the swarm of bodies around us. She reaches up and kisses my lips and I feel nothing. It’s more than being physically numb from the alcohol, although that is definitely happening; I’ve felt numb since the moment Leah took Lyle into her apartment and closed the door.
The crowd shifts abruptly and a girl is shoved into my side. I laugh at how ridiculous this whole scene is. I hate this. I want to be at home with Leah, not out in an inebriated crowd being pushed around. Mandy gets pissed when the girl doesn’t remove herself quickly enough. She grabs my hand and pulls me toward the exit.
“Let’s get out of here,” she shouts above the music.
“No, I don’t want to go home yet. Let’s have a couple more drinks.”
“Noah, you’re stumbling as it is. If you drink any more you won’t even remember your own name. How are you going to make it home?” She’s got a point. I nod and follow her out of the bar.
It’s a good thing I live close by, because neither of us is in any condition to drive. I begin the walk to my place on autopilot, letting my hand slide from hers. I fight the urge to wipe it on my pants. It doesn’t feel right touching her, and that makes me laugh without humor. I’ve never had that problem before, but now that I’ve held Leah’s hand in mine it’s the only one I want. Mandy tries not to act offended.
When we reach my building I get a sick feeling in my stomach. I don’t know if I can spend the night here knowing they’re together on the other side of the wall. When Mandy sees me hesitate, she grabs my arm and pulls it over her shoulder.
“Come on. I’ll help you up the steps,” she offers, steering me toward them.
“You know what? Why don’t we go to your place. We could call a cab.” I reach for my cell phone, but she stops me.
“Noah, what’s the matter with you?” She laughs. “We’re right here. Let’s go inside.”
I don’t want this. I don’t want her here, but I’m the one who called her to come out tonight and I’m in no shape to see her home safely. Against my better judgment, I take hold of the railing to help get my footing before beginning the half-hike, half-stumble up the stairs.
I do everything in my power not to look at Leah’s door. I focus on digging my keys out of my pocket and opening my apartment for us. Inside, Mandy weaves back and forth as she heads for my bedroom. She strips out of the first few items of her clothing, but then she realizes I’m not following her and turns. She makes a pouty face and curls her finger in my direction, beckoning me.
“Come to bed,” she coaxes.
“No, I’ll sleep out here. G’night, Mandy.”
“You know where to find me if you change your mind,” she purrs. She gives me a knowing smile, then turns and continues her striptease down the hallway and into my room.
Not happening. I pull my shirt off over my head and throw it behind me before unbuttoning my pants and stepping out of them. I stumble over to my couch and lie down, clamping my eyes shut as the room starts to spin. I’m going to be so hung over tomorrow. Thinking about tomorrow doesn’t help. The thought of Leah moving her stuff out makes the effects of the alcohol more nauseating and vile.
In the darkness I think about what I’m going to do. I won’t be able to hide how disappointed and hurt I am if she’s chosen to work things out with him. At the same time, it’s completely my fault for setting such stupid boundaries with her. She’s too good for me and my bullshit, but that doesn’t stop my heart from aching for her. In the last moments before I fall asleep, I almost believe I’m hearing the sound of crying, but I’m too far gone to stop myself from slipping under.
Sleep is not an escape from thoughts of Leah. She’s with me as I float from dream to dream. We’re dance partners in the kitchen, and she’s beside me in some crazy adventure. It doesn’t matter where I travel in my dream, she’s right there at my side with her brilliant smile and her beautiful eyes. I let myself hold her, part of me aware that none of this is real. I know that in the morning reality is going to crush me. So tonight I hold her tight and pray that if she’s going leave me tomorrow, I never wake up.
Leah
My eyes feel heavy and scratchy as I open them to the bright daylight filling my apartment. For a second, I feel nothing, but then the memories come flooding in and I grab my head in an unsuccessful effort to block out the events of last night.
After Lyle left, I curled up on the couch and fell asleep, thinking I would find Noah in the morning and explain what had happened. I had seen the vulnerability in his eyes, but I thought I had time to fix things. When I heard the high-pitched giggle of a drunken female in the hallway sometime after midnight I knew I had made a huge mistake. I’d hurt Noah, and now I would have to suffer the consequences.
I tried not to look. I knew who was with him from the distinctive sound of her maniacal laugh; it was the same laugh I’d heard when Mandy paid a visit a few weeks ago. My fingers dug into the sofa cushions as I fought a war within myself, but my will broke. I jumped up from the couch and looked through the peephole just in time to see Mandy guiding a drunken Noah back to the apartment we had shared only a few hours earlier.
Anger might be the normal response, but that wasn’t what I felt. Instead, I panicked. My heart began thumping quickly in my chest and my stomach rolled into a knot and lodged itself somewhere in my ribs. This was my fault and there was no recovering from what I’d done unless I wanted to fling myself out of my front door and try to explain to a drunk man why I‘d walked away from him to spend the night with my ex. But I was too afraid I’d make a fool out of myself in front of Mandy, that I might make Noah think he was my second choice.
It took a few minutes after his door shut for me to be able to pull myself away from the peephole. The world around me began to spin and I struggled to make it back to the couch without collapsing onto the floor. When I finally laid my body down on the cushions, I let the tears fall until the exhaustion of crying lulled me to sleep.
So now I’m nursing an emotional hangover as I gather my strength for what today is going to bring. I have to face Noah, not because that’s what is best or what I want, but because today is moving day. The only saving grace this morning is that both of our apartments are quiet. Imagining what must have gone on next door is bad enough—having to hear it would have been torture.
I sit up on the edge of the couch and let my feet hit the floor. My options are limited this morning: I can forget about my stuff and hide from Noah, or I can put on my big girl panties and face the consequences of my rash decision last night. Running away isn’t going to save me forever. I need to get my stuff and I need some closure. He gave me the best date of my life and some wonderful weeks of great friendship. With a big breath and a small prayer, I stand and make my way to the bathroom so that I can get this day over with as soon as possible.
What’s the appropriate outfit for having your heart yanked out of your chest and stomped on? I opt for yoga pants and an old concert tee and forego the makeup, which will be useless on my swollen eyes. I brush through my tangled hair and twist it up into a messy bun. Good enough for the project at hand.
I hesitate outside Noah’s door, holding the key to his apartment in my palm. What are the rules now? I’m not sure it’s okay that I just walk in like I live here, but at the same time I kind of do. My guess is that they’re in his bedroom so with a shaky hand I open the door and step into the darkened apartment. I’ll grab what I can out of the extra room and make an escape before they wake up.
It plays out very much like a scene from my worst nightmare. The door sweeps open, dragging an item of clothing with it as it slides across the floor. I breathe in and out slowly to compose myself. I take a few more steps, avoiding more items of women’s clothing, but it isn’t her clothing that breaks me—it’s his.
I see Noah’s shirt balled up at my feet and feel myself crumble. My head falls forward and my shoulders lose ground as they roll into my chest. I’m trying hard not to let the sobs out as my body rocks with silent cries. I bend down and pick his shirt up, cradling it against my face to stifle my sobs and absorb my tears.
This should be our morning. I should be hassling him about his warped views on love while perched on his counter. He should be reciting all the statistics about exactly how wrong I am to believe in everlasting relationships as he makes our breakfast. None of that is real, though.
In this moment it becomes painfully clear that I have underestimated the amount of misery falling for Noah could open me up to. He held my hand, kissed my lips and stole my heart. For a short time I was on the high of the hope and the promise that comes with a new love, and I know that the crash of losing it is going to sting for a long time.
“Leah?” Noah’s voice floats across my skin. In the dim light that filters through the closed blinds I see him pulling himself up into a sitting position on the couch a few feet in front of me. “Oh, Leah, please don’t cry.”
Noah
My head pounds as I try to right myself on the couch. Fuck, I really overdid it last night. I want so badly to go to Leah, but I think I might be sick if I stand up too quickly. Last night is all a blur and as I look around me, my stomach sinks with the realization that I might have messed up. I don’t remember what happened, but I can see the scattered articles of clothing—both a woman’s and mine.
It’s a horrible feeling to be sitting in your underwear in your living room and having no idea how you got there. The hurt in Leah’s eyes takes my breath away. Bits and pieces of last night start to filter in and I feel myself grow melancholy at the memory of her going into her apartment with Lyle. After that, the night is a blur.
But she’s here and he’s nowhere in sight. Maybe that’s a good thing. I look around at the clothing scattered at her feet, though, and I know for sure that it’s not hers. As if on cue, a sleepy Mandy emerges from the hallway in only a man’s t-shirt—my t-shirt. I swivel my face back to Leah’s, but it’s too late.
She drops my shirt and turns around to make an escape. “Leah, don’t,” is all I can manage, but it’s weak and unconvincing because even I know she should leave me. In the past when I’ve screwed up with women, the exits have been dramatic, with tears and angry words. I’d take that drama any day over Leah’s silent exit. She slips out as if being in my company one second longer would kill her. What have I done?
“Damn it!” I shout, but then regret it when my hangover roars to life inside my skull. I throw my hands over my face and tip my head back to stop the pounding. I hate myself. I know what she must be feeling; I felt the same way when she left with Lyle.
It dawns on me then that I should have known all along that she wouldn’t go back to him. I saw it in her eyes when we danced and in the way she listened so intently to anything I was interested in. He lost her to me, but then I lost her to my inability to acknowledge the signs. I had myself so convinced that true love doesn’t exist that it became a self-fulfilling prophecy. I didn’t recognize it when it was right at my fingertips.
“Fuck,” I bite out, as pain and guilt twist in my gut. I become aware of Mandy again when she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, and I look to her with regret. I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees, and run my hands through my hair.
“Noah,” she says softly, making her way over to me cautiously. I feel the cushion beside me dip with the weight of her body, but I don’t lift my head. Her hand finds its way to my back, but when I flinch she removes it. “Wow, you really like her, huh?” Her tone tells me it’s a rhetorical question, but I nod my head anyway.
Mandy takes a big breath before she speaks. “You don’t remember last night, do you?” I just shake my head no. I might not remember, but the evidence paints a pretty clear picture.
“Noah, nothing happened. Not that I didn’t want it to, but…well, I guess you weren’t into it.”
I search her face for the truth, and it’s confirmed by the sadness around her eyes. She forces a little laugh. “Geez, Noah, she’s really done a number on you. I’ve never seen you this torn up before.” She’s joking, but she couldn’t be more accurate. I feel the first rays of hope enter my heart as I grab Mandy’s hands.
“Thank you for being honest. I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you.” She answers my words with a half-smile and a shrug.
“It’s okay. I knew what it was when we started this thing. I’m going to grab my stuff and get out of here.” She gestures to the discarded clothing on the floor. “I’m sorry she saw all this.”
So am I. How do I convince Leah I’m not as big of an asshole as I look? I lean back against the couch and start to think of all the ways I could fix this. Twenty minutes later I’m still there, with not one idea of what might work.
Mandy has long since left, and the day has already begun. I’m stuck in a horrible purgatory; I might be able to tell Leah that nothing happened, but I still called Mandy and brought her back to my place. At the same time, Leah did leave me to be with Lyle, but there’s no way I’m going to pin my bad behavior on her.
I think about what I might tell my couples in counseling. When you are in a relationship, you should wake up every morning with the intent to invest yourself a hundred percent. When couples say relationships are fifty-fifty, they don’t realize that on the days they fall short, there won’t be enough love and commitment to keep it solid. Some days one person won’t be able to give a hundred percent and their partner will need to step up, just like this morning. Last night I was not performing at full capacity and I need Leah’s commitment to help us recover. If we can commit like that we will never fall below perfect.
Just like that it hits me. I jump up from the couch and make my way to the shower. I know how to prove to her that we can make it work, I just need to get to her before she convinces herself it’s hopeless.