Page 80 of Fun Together
“I should probably check on Rett,” I say, breaking eye contact.
He nods. “I’ll be in here if you need me.”
I don’t see her in the hallway or lobby. I try to call her but get no answer. She must have gone outside, so I send her a text before stopping by the bathroom on my way back into the party. There’s a line so I pull up Instagram to idly scroll to pass the time. I swipe past a post that I almost don’t register at first.
A photo of Andrew. It’s a selfie of him and a woman.
“Faye, sweetie, the line has moved.” I look over and Tina nods to the big gap I’ve left from not moving in line.
I need to be alone for a second, but there are people milling about everywhere. I spot the photo booth in the hallway that the company must have rented out, and it looks empty. I rush inside and close the curtain, taking a closer look at the photo he posted. It’s the first photo he’s shared in over a year. I think that’s why I was so shocked to see anything from his account.
She’s pretty, with strawberry-blonde hair and a bunch of freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose. He looks happy. I’m so ensnared with my stalking that I barely register the curtain opening and Eli peeking his head inside.
“Found a hiding spot I see,” he smiles.
I hold my phone up to him. “Who is this?” I ask in what I hope is a very calm way. I feel anything other than calm. I feel . . . sick.
“That must be Emma,” he says.
“Emma,” I repeat. “Are they . . . together?”
“May I come in with you?”
I scoot over so he has room to sit down next to me.
“I don’t really know much, just that he was going there to meet her.”
I’m reeling at this information. This is not the Andrew I knew. He’d never do something like that. Maybe I didn’t know him as well as I thought, either.
“I thought he—I thought—” I don’t know what’s causing me to have this reaction. I’m the one who ended things. I’m the one who didn’t want to get married. It’s my fault that Andrew went off to the Netherlands to meet a woman. Seeing him with someone has blindsided me in a way I didn’t expect.“I didn’t know,” I say, suddenly having a hard time taking a full breath.
“Breathe.” Eli places a hand on my back and moves it in a soothing motion. “You need to breathe.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Am I crying?” I reach up to touch my face and my hand comes away wet. “I never cry!”
“Maybe you need to cry,” he says gently.
“I don’t want to cry. I hate crying. My eyes get all swollen. Is this thing going to start taking our photo?”
“No, it’s not on. It’s okay. Come here.” He pulls me into a hug, and I bury my face in his neck. This feels like when you’re a little kid and you fall down and hurt yourself, but you don’t really get upset until someone acknowledges that something is wrong. I’m full-on sobbing now, and it’s embarrassing.
“I’m getting your shirt wet,” is all I can think to say to him.
“I don’t care.”
The thing is, I don’t think these tears are because Andrew is with someone new. I think it’s more that the shock of seeing him with her has made me realize that I kept him from happiness for so long. He could have met someone else years ago. How much time did we waste together? How much time did I waste of his life, knowing I wasn’t fully in it?
I also feel jealous that he found happiness so easily. And what a terrible thing to feel.
“I’m an awful person,” I say.
He pulls me in tighter, and I adjust myself so that my legs are draped over his. “What are you talking about?” he asks.
I can’t bring myself to voice my real thoughts. That I’m selfish. That in an attempt to be nothing like my mother, I became exactly like her. Because I knew Andrew was a good man, and I didn’t want to be alone. “I just need a second.”
We don’t say anything for a few minutes, and with his continued soothing circles on my back, I feel myself beginning to calm down.
“You’re a good hugger.” This comes out muffled against the place where his shoulder meets his neck.
