Page 134 of Almost Not Quite Engaged

“Thought you weren’t allowed to call women bitches. Stop it. You’re not.” I blow out a huge breath and scrub my face.

I turn onto the highway that’s way too familiar now, my parents’ house to mine. Liesel and Bill caught a couple of small jobs and are making their way to LA for more work, but said they can be ready in a week. I don’t see how I can work.

I put my hand on her knee and she says, “You’re not you when you’re with them.”

“Come on. You can’t be throwing stones like that.”

She removes my hand and leans toward me. “No glass house. I’m not throwing stones. I’m just...” She stops. “I’m drowning. It’s like I’m holding huge stones standing in the water and my arms are getting tired.”

“Where is this coming from?”

“You’ve got to be kidding? Where? Here!” She gestures all around. “We need to get out of here. I’m drowning. You’re drowning. I don’t know you right now or is this the real you and the other one that I really like is the lie?”

She leans forward so she can catch my peripheral. “We haven’t had good dirty, bend me in half sex in five days. That’s like year seven of a relationship sex. We’re like an escalated month or so into this. Concentrated time together but not a fuck ton of it.”

My voice is much stronger than I intend but I’m fucking raw now. “I’m exhausted from being all things to everyone. You, my family, Bill and Liesel, your family, our friends. And I’m failing at most of it. The only thing I seem to be excelling at right now is making sure my fucking mother keeps planning our fake wedding and helping my dad in and out of bed for PT and doctor’s appointments. I’m really fucking good at that. Back off. I’ve lost almost everything, and what I haven’t is on the verge of blowing up any day now.”

“Good to know.” She spits the words at me and turns toward the window.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I’m sacrificing things to be at your side and you don’t even give a shit I’m here, not sure what I’m doing. I’m delusional. What you’re saying to me is basically I am the paycheck from the parents. Got it, cool.” She turns toward the passenger window.

I get off at my exit and she says, “Can you let me out here. I want to walk.”

“I can but I’d like for you to stay and finish this conversation because to be honest I have no idea when I’m going to have to get back in this car and head to a hospital or run back to Brookline because she can’t figure out how to shut off the pool pump or a raccoon set off the fucking alarm. So you can walk if you want but if you want to have this out now, now is the only time I’ve got for this shit.” I pull over to the side of the road. She unlocks the door but doesn’t move.

We sit there for a moment.

“Please stay.” A sharp nod and I pull back into traffic.

“Everything is triggering. I feel like I’m withering away.”

“Okay, drama queen, explain.”

“Let’s stop with the snide if we’re going to talk about this.”

“Fine. Sorry.”

“I have no place here, only a fake spot to fill.”

“Okay. But who’s last on the list every time, every day? Me. Be here for me.”

I pull into my garage and she’s out of the car. I jump out too and we talk across the roof.

“What are you talking about?” she says. “I put you first.”

“Did you put me first when your dad’s back went out and it was my only day off and I needed to work? And you couldn’t even go to lunch with my mom because of it. Was that putting me first? Was it putting me first when you bought peanut butter?”

“What?” I open my arms out wide, truly confused.

“I hate peanut butter.”

“Okay. Seriously. We’re fighting about peanut butter now. This really is like a seven-year-relationship and we got none of the good stuff.” She turns to go into my building.

I follow behind her. “It’s trial by fire. We’re going to have to be around our families.”

“Yeah, well I don’t want to be around our families like this.”