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And I can't tell them anything. Because they’ll ask questions, they'll want details, and they will absolutely tell me I’m making a huge mistake. And maybe I am.
They’re going to want to know his name, where he lives, or what he does for a living. And there are many questions that they could ask that I can’t answer. My lack of knowledge about Michael makes my feelings for him that much more suspect. At Olivia 's wedding, we'd been ripping on her because she had only been dating the man she married for six months, Valerie pointed out. You can't know anyone in six months, much less have feelings for them. And in that moment, I'd agreed.
I wouldn't have any answers for them because I don't know anything about him and that would be a huge red flag that I'd never hear the end of. Of course, I'm at war in my head and heart because I don't want to know anything about him. I don't want to care about him. I don't want to be hurt by him. Because the more you know and care about someone, the easier it is for them to hurt you. And hurt leads to regret and shame, two emotions I don't plan to ever feel again.
Yeah, I've been down that road before, and I absolutely don't ever want to go back.
I take a sip of my soda, realizing the ice has melted, and the drink is somewhat warm and watered down.
“Speaking of Olivia's wedding and the people at it...” There's a mischievous tone in Valerie's voice, but I also hear the very real edge of concern in her words. “Has anyone heard from her?”
Raina nods her head. “She called you too?” she asks Valerie and I feel left out. Our friend was calling people on her honeymoon when she is supposed to be focusing on her new husband?
“What did she say?” I ask, sitting up and leaning forward, suddenly deeply invested in this new development.
Raina tilts her head to the side. “Well, at the end of our conversation, she said she was having second thoughts about the marriage.”
Valerie nods, as if that tracks with the conversation she had with our mutual friend as well.
“No way,” I say with a stunned gasp. While at the wedding I'd been certain they wouldn't last, I didn't think things would be over before the honeymoon had even concluded.
“Yeah, it sounds like she and Darren had a huge blowout.” Valerie flips her silken dark hair over her shoulder before touching a fingertip to the rim of her glass.
I lean forward, surprised by this development. “What did they fight about?” How is it even possible to get into a fight on your wedding night? That should be the most thrilling moment of the entire marriage, so how the heck did they mess that up?
Raina responds. “She didn't say, but it sounded like it was something stupid. Apparently he was being insensitive and selfish.”
“You don't think he hurt her, do you?” Concern for my friend wells up in me as I glance from Raina to Valerie.
“I really hope not. But hasn't he always been insensitive and selfish?” Valerie sounds matter of fact and Raina agrees with her.
“Maybe that's just a lawyer thing?” I ask, really not feeling the conversation and worried about our mutual friend. Sure, I think Olivia is weak and she's too quick to fall in love with. That doesn't mean I want to see her hurt. I'm not the kind of person who wants to be right so bad that I'm happy people are miserable when I am.
“Maybe we should take bets on when it will end?” Valerie asks.
I shake my head and Raina speaks up. “I know you don't agree with her getting married, but she is still our friend. I don't want to make bets about when she's going to go through the worst heartbreak of her life.”
I have to agree that that's in poor taste and not something I want to do either. Still, I don't want to think about Olivia's marriage. I don't want to think about any marriage, because marriage is a trap, a prison, a mistake.
That's one of the lessons my mom taught me when I was very young; through observation, I saw how my dad owned her and how she let him walk all over her. Maybe if they hadn't been married, she would have been strong enough to walk away. Maybe without the fear of financial ruin, she would have done the right thing. Maybe if she didn't feel trapped with him, she wouldn't have been okay with him treating her like dirt.
My mom sacrificed her dreams, her happiness, her dignity for him, and for what? He gave her nothing but pain and misery.
My phone buzzes and I hope against hope that it's him.
Of course, that's silly. There's no way Michael has my number, but that doesn't stop my heart from leaping with excitement at the thought. Maybe he was able to track me down before I tracked him down.
But the text on my phone isn't from Michael.
The text on my phone is from my mother.
There's absolutely nothing she could say that I want to hear right now, so I ignore the message.
“Who is the message from?” Raina asks, leaning over as if she can see my phone.
“Just my mother.” I don't need to explain to my friends why I'm sighing about that or why I have no intention of responding. Unfortunately, they know the whole ugly story. Of course, they are a bit more split in their feelings about the whole situation, and they think that my mom is a victim of my father. I think I saw plenty of opportunities growing up for her to walk away and leave him behind. She chose not to take those opportunities and that's on her.
My friends glance at one another.
