Page 36 of I'm Not Done with You Yet

“What do you mean a monster?” He plants both hands on the bar and leans over it, training his baby blue eyes on me. It’s like having stage lights focused on me. Lights, camera, action. I want to quail, but I’m doing this for Thalia, so I lean into the light and perform my lines like an actress with the Oscars on her mind.

“I don’t know exactly what he does to her, of course. In front of us he’s the perfect gentleman. But there are bruises on Thalia’s arms and legs, and one time I went to her room and she was crying like she’s really scared.” I even manage to make my voice quaver, that’s how dedicated I am to saving Thalia from Ivan.

Antoine’s face is a study in barely restrained rage. “What—but—” He shakes his head. “I don’t understand. Who is he? Why doesn’t she just leave him?”

“That’s the thing, he’s so charismatic, I don’t think she sees how toxic he is. Will you talk to her? Please? I know that she still misses you. She’s just blinded by this guy or something. I think if she just sees you—if you remind her of how good you two were—she’ll wake up.”

“She misses me?”

I give an empathic nod, my eyes wide. “Very much. She talks to me about you all the time. Said you’re the best she’s ever had. In, uh, in every way.” It’s like gargling acid in my mouth, saying these words.

Antoine laps them up, because of course he does. What is it about men and their need to be the knight in shining armor? He loves the image so much he doesn’t pause to ask why Thalia, a grown, able woman, could possibly allow herself to get into such a bad situation over a matter of weeks. Months, years, I can see how someone can be worn down slowly, layers peeled away until there’s nothing left. But weeks? Come on.

But Antoine is too blinded by the blaze of glory.

“I miss her, too, of course. How can you not? She is magnificent, no?”

I nod. She is magnificent, yes. That’s the whole reason I’m here, asshole. “And, um, maybe it would be best if you didn’t tell her that I was the one who told you about Ivan. We should make it look like you just knew because you’re so in sync with her.”

“Ah yes. Good point. I’ll win her back, Janice. I promise you.”

I don’t bother correcting him this time. It doesn’t matter; I’ve achieved what I came here to do.

First thing I do when I walk out of Vin+ is to run down a side street and try to slow down my heart rate. What the hell have I done? Sociopathic tendency #17: Brash.

But I couldn’t just stand by and watch as Thalia ties herself down to Ivan, quite possibly for the rest of her life. We’re too young, only in our early twenties. It’s too soon! Our brains aren’t even fully formed yet. She’ll regret it. I’m only saving her from a lifetime of disappointment.

When my heart feels like it’s no longer about to rip itself out of my chest, I walk back to Pemberton. My mind is still spinning, wondering what Antoine is going to do. Some over-the-top romantic gesture? An old-fashioned fight with Ivan? Maybe I should’ve given him some pointers. But it’s too late now. I’vedone my part to try and save Thalia; now I just have to sit back and watch as Antoine does the rest. Who would’ve thought that in the end, I would be turning to him for help? How’s that for irony?

The second week passes; one long, excruciating week where Thalia and Ivan wrap even tighter into each other, folding around each other so that there’s absolutely no space for the rest of the world. It feels as though they’ve been in love for years. They now have their own secret code, their little inside jokes. All it takes is a seemingly nonsensical phrase here and there: “Like the squid,” Thalia says as we tour the beautiful grounds of Trinity College, and Ivan will burst out laughing and pull her close.What squid?Ani and I would ask each other silently before shrugging and rolling our eyes.

How strange that Ani should now be my reluctant ally. Though she’s not much of an ally; she seems content to stay back, spitting out barbed comments here and there, but mostly a passive bystander. She drinks more, splurges on more luxury clothing, which I didn’t think was possible, but aside from that she’s mostly harmless. A shame.

Fortunately, it’s all about to come to an end. Ivan’s due to leave the morning after our formal college ball. It’s the biggest night of Michaelmas; everybody’s been twittering about it for weeks now. The local dress shops have been filled with students trying on ball gowns. Ani’s already bought five gowns. She tells me with sloppy generosity that I am allowed to wear her least favorite one. I’m so anxious/looking forward to Ivan leaving that I ignore the slight in Ani’s comment.

But that morning, Thalia bursts into my room, cheeks ablaze. “I think he’s going to propose,” she squeals.

No. What? NO.

Somehow, I manage to keep from screaming. “What? But—what?”

“I know!” she cries. “It’s so fast, but oh god, it feels so right. I—he asked me how I felt about possibly living in Jakarta, and all these questions like did I want kids, how do I feel about him needing to travel throughout the year... things a smart, down-to-earth guy would consider before popping the question.”

Of course he’s the type to ask these questions before popping the question. Wise Ivan. Kind Ivan. Down-to-earth Ivan.

“And then he took my hand and was like—well, I swear he was measuring my ring finger. Oh my god, Jane! Can you imagine? If he proposed tonight?” She hops and squeals again. “Is this the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard or what?”

I make myself nod slowly.

Thalia finally notices that All Does Not Seem Right and stops chattering. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. It’s just—it seems really fast, don’t you think?”It’s been barely a fortnight, I want to scream at her. I’ve had rashes older than this relationship.

“I know, but I’ve never felt this way about anyone before—”

Wow, that stings.

“—and when you know, you know. You know?”

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