Page 87 of Plight
“You can’t blame him for moving away. That wasn’t his fault.”
“Fine. But I can blame him for how he has treated me since we fucked.”
“Which is how … ?”
“Like I was leftovers that seemed a good idea to keep at the time but then didn’t appeal the next day.”
He shrugged and stood up, making his way to my chair-of-clothing-I-need-to-put-away. “Nup. Can’t see him doing that.”
“What would you know? You don’t even know him.”
“But I know you,” he said, picking up my bra and checking it out. “And I know you could never be seen as leftovers. Ever. Plus, I know when a guy has it pretty bad for a girl. Trust me, I normally try to cut his lunch just for shits and giggles …”
I climbed off my bed, snatched my bra from his hands and glared at him, his juvenile sex life disgusting at times.
“I’m tellin’ ya, Duck, pretty boy geek has it bad for you.”
I desperately wanted to believe him, but actions always spoke louder than words, and Elliot’s actions had been what they’d always been — to up and leave.
“Look, I appreciate what you’re doin’, Chris. You’re a great friend, my best friend, but you’re wrong. Elliot is just like the others.” Snatching my mini skirt from his hands, I gathered up the rest of my clothes. “You seem to forget that he’s a lawyer. He makes a living fooling people.”
“That’s a bit harsh.”
“Why? He knows how to manipulate. He said so himself. It’s part of what he does. I just never thought he’d manipulate me the way he has.”
Holding back the onslaught of tears that threatened to erupt again, I called back, over my shoulder, as I headed out of my room, “I’m doing the washing. Got anything dirty?”
Elliot didn’t call or textall week, which just enforced that I was right and Chris was wrong; that Elliot truly didn’t give a flying fuck about me, or our friendship. The truth was a sucker punch to my heart, but I couldn’t acknowledge that fact because we had a community garden to finish before the looming deadline. What was also looming was seeing him again, something I didn’t want to do, because I wasn’t as strong as I made myself out to be. Plus, I sure as hell didn’t want to pretend we were together and getting married. That bullshit ended today no matter what. As far as I was concerned, we’d broken up, and that was exactly what I’d be telling our mothers, which wasn’t entirely a lie. My stance would be that I didn’t want to talk about it, or to him, and that my main focus was to complete the garden.
I could do this.
Pulling up to the site, I shivered as I switched the engine of my beetle off. I was frozen solid inside and out, and for a split second wondered if I could use that as an excuse not to get out of my car.
The morning was overly crisp for spring, the fog only just having lifted enough for me to tell that Elliot had not yet arrived. Maybe he’s gonna pike it and abandon the garden project. Wouldn’t surprise me.
I got out of the car and made my way into the garden along the newly dug out feature path that was due to be paved later in the day. It was going to look amazing, and I couldn’t wait. The paved path had been one of my favourite features of the old garden because it had reminded me of the Wizard of Oz. Many times I’d been Dorothy, skipping along and singing that I was off to see a wizard, and many times Elliot had pretended to throw apples at me.
The memory knifed me in the chest, so I hurried along until I was standing next to Mum. “Good morning. Geez, it’s cold.”
“Good morning, sweetheart.” Mum looked past me toward the road. “Elliot not with you?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Oh. Is everything okay? Did you sort out what was upsetting you last week?”
I shook my head again. “No.”
She touched my shoulder. “What’s going on? Helen and I are concerned. She said Elliot isn’t answering her calls, instead texting her that he’s busy.”
“He probably is,” I muttered.
Helen stepped out of the garden shed. “Good morning, dear.” Her face fell when she noticed I was alone. “No Elliot?”
I shook my head. “Look, there’s something I need to tell you both—”
“Oh! There he is!” she exclaimed, her face morphing into an instant smile that that just as quickly morphed back to sadness when she took in Elliot’s demeanour.
“Good he’s here,” I continued quickly, not wanting anything to haphazardly stop me confessing like it had in the past. “You should both know that Elliot and I have decided to call off the engagement.”
