“What’s so funny?” Lauren asks.
When I share my image with them, we all snort-laugh. Then the shooters come out. And I brace myself for what is coming next.
Berkeley asks, “So what happened with Ben?”
Silence hangs heavy like lead in the room.
I groan, saying, “Do we have to talk about it?”
“Yes,” Berkeley insists.
So I give them all the dirty details of how we were having sex when he discovered the lump. “He froze and I didn’t know what was happening. He backed away from me like I was some sort of contagious thing. And the look on his face.” I can’t stop the shudder that rips through me. “But the worst thing of all was when I told him about my family history, he pretty much accused me of being a shitty person. Called me a liar. And then, fool that I was, I told him I love him and asked him if that made a difference. Obviously, it didn’t.” And a riot nearly breaks out. God, I love my girls, but I’m not in the mood to handle this tonight.
“I say we lead a brigade to his home and beat the shit out of him,” Britt suggests.
I’m shocked. “Britt, I can’t believe you would encourage such a thing, being the peacemaker that you are.”
“He destroyed you, Sam, in your worst nightmare. He’s a fucking bastard.” I can’t contain my shock. This is so unlike Britt. “In my opinion, that’s worse than fucking around on someone.”
“Oh, holy shit,” Berkeley says.
“She’s right,” Hayley agrees. “He inflicted a mortal wound. It’s a disgrace and he should be ashamed of himself.”
I hold up my hand, palm facing toward them. “Whatever he did was bad, but that’s that. I’m not leading a charge against him. It won’t do anything but worsen things.”
“He’s going to go forward in life then with no accountability whatsoever?” Hayley asks.
I shrug. “I guess so. Look, I don’t really want to talk about this anymore.”
“I know,” Lauren says. “But you have to face these facts and not defend him.”
“I told you all why he did what he did.”
“You’re too nice. I still can’t believe you defend his actions, Sam,” Lauren says, giving me the saddest look.
“Okay. I know. End of story. Let’s move on. Can we have more alcohol?” I ask with much more enthusiasm than I feel.
They all eye me with suspicion, but that’s okay. I just want off this topic.
Berkeley sets us up another round of tequila. Eventually, I’m smashed, and weaving around the house like a car with a flat tire.
“I think it’s time for me to go to bed.” I try to focus on one of the two Laurens I see. I say goodnight to everyone and crawl into my bed, but before I pass out, I decide to text Ben.
Me: I’m so sorry for holding out on you but I sware I mean to tell you. I relly did. I was tryng to find the rite time. I guess I waited too long. I have an appointment on Friday to get cheked out. Ben, im so scarred. Why does if have to be me? I hate that my boobs are sick. I ment what I said when I told you I loved you. Im so sory.
My finger hovers over the send button, but then I hit it and it’s gone. I lay my head on the pillow and close my eyes.
The morning comes and along with it a throbbing headache. Why did I drink that crappy tequila on top of vodka? Oh yeah. To forget what I’m facing. I barely remember climbing into bed last night. What I need right now are two Advil. When I move to stretch, I push my phone out from under the covers. Picking it up, it opens to my text messages and that’s when I see it. Oh, fuck. I drunk texted Ben last night. But he didn’t respond. No surprise there.
A reread the sent message several times and decide to text him again, explaining.
Me: Hey. Sorry about that text last night. The girls came over and filled me with a lot of tequila. Anyway, I thought an explanation was in order. I am totally and completely sorry for not telling you about my issue sooner. I didn’t do it to withhold information. I did it because I was waiting for the right time. I didn’t expect you (or me even) to find a lump. Please believe me. I’m not in the habit nor do I make a practice of lying. Sorry, I didn’t mean to have diarrhea of the mouth—fingers. And I do love you. PS. I do have an appointment tomorrow and I am scared. Out of my mind.