A Life More Complete

---Chapter 19---

I wake the next morning with the sudden urge to vomit. Scrambling through twisted sheets attempting to release myself from their stifling grip as I tumble toward the bathroom. Wearing only a t-shirt that I can’t recall changing into, I lunge over the toilet and purge what feels like everything from my stomach. My eyes watering, my throat burning with acidic stomach bile and rotten alcohol as my body continues to heave with such force that my stomach muscles ache.

Tyler yells from the bed, “Shit, could you close the door? My hangover is unreal and the sound of you vomiting is making it worse.”

“Thanks, Ty. Your kindness and sympathy knows no bounds,” I mutter as I crawl over to the door and push the bottom corner until the door slams closed. Pressing my cheek to the cool tile floor, I close my eyes and try not to focus on the fact that I am lying on the floor of a hotel bathroom that after watching too many Datelines, I know full well is swimming with infestation and germs. Just that thought in my brain for a second makes my stomach lurch and I hug the toilet once again. I pull a towel from the rack and rest my head on it telling myself to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. I repeat this in my head over and over as my eyes grow heavy.

Shuffling out of the bathroom a few hours later I join a snoring and completely dead to the world Tyler in bed. I grab my phone off the nightstand and text my sisters. The light from the screen fills my head with blinding pain that makes my eyes water and forces my gag reflex to the forefront once again. Please make it stop. I swear I will never drink again. Okay, I am lying, but I’ll at least hold off for a few weeks. I don’t know whom I’m begging, but whoever it is, I didn’t care; I just need it to stop. I text my sisters to let them know I’m not going to make it to breakfast due to my epic hangover. That’s putting in mildly. The last time I remember being this drunk had to be at least before 1999, but in my state I’m unable to actually recall anything being worse than this. When I don’t hear from either of them after a few minutes my head hits the pillow and I’m out.

Several hours later I wake with a headache and the taste of vomit still lingering in my mouth. Tyler stirs next to me and judging by the look on his face he is feeling strikingly similar to me.

“I’m so glad we are staying an extra night,” I say. “I don’t think I could even think about getting in the car right now.”

“Seriously. I’m glad we took your car. You and all that barf would completely ruin the interior in my car. Plus you really smell disgusting.”

His response sends a shock of annoyance through my aching body. I roll the other direction, facing away from him, right now I can’t look at him and I know if I do my response will be less than savory.

“Thanks. I wouldn’t barf in your car,” I mumble.

“Oh, stop acting insulted. I was joking and anyway, we’re staying, so no one has to worry about barfing in the car.”

I take Tyler’s words to heart and climb out of bed and into the shower. Taking my toothbrush with me I begin to scrub the inside of my mouth as if it were a public toilet and as of right now I am pretty sure it harbors as much filth and germs as one.

My mind flutters to Tyler. It’s hard not to think about him. I feel myself becoming obsessed with him and wanting to please him, something I’ve never had any desire to do, but here I am thinking about how I can make him love me more. I got in the shower because he said I smelled. Normally I would have shrugged my shoulders and more than likely told the offender to leave if I wasn’t up to their standard of cleanliness, yet with Tyler I aim to please. I don’t like the feeling of forced compliance, however I’m standing in the shower giving myself a prison style scrub down. This should all be a sign that embarking on a life long commitment might not be the right choice, but I can’t help but think that maybe it’s my only choice. I really need to stop over analyzing everything.

I leave Tyler sleeping in bed to meet my sisters for lunch at a nearby restaurant. I can feel myself slipping away. My independence fading as I blend into the person that was created by Tyler so long ago. It’s hard to figure out why I lose myself in his presence or why I so easily slip into the role of following along.

Tyler told me he wants it to be different. He wants it to work and so do I, more than I want to admit. I still can’t figure out what makes him feel he has some sort of power over my behavior, my life or my personality for that matter.

I shake my head as I pull into the parking lot. My OCD is at an extreme since getting back together with Tyler. My tapping and my obsessive dwelling are spiraling out of control. This was something that had nearly disappeared and the coincidence of it returning with Tyler’s arrival isn’t entirely lost on me.

Rachel is waiting at a table looking at her phone when I walk up. She stands and hugs me. I kiss her cheek and feel a calm come over me. We’re normal; hopefully it remains this way.

“Tyler, huh?” she says without making eye contact.

“Yeah. He’s Trini’s lawyer.”

“Be careful.” Her tone clipped and slightly judgmental.

Before I can answer the waitress walks up and asks if we’d like anything to drink. Rachel orders a Diet Coke and I order water. She tells us she’ll be back with the drinks and she’ll take our order then. Rachel sends a text to Maizey asking what is taking her so long as we begin our conversation again.

“You should really drink water if you’re as hungover as I am because caffeine will make it worse. It depletes your body,” I say as Rachel looks up from the menu.

“You’re avoiding talking about him.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes you are,” she sighs. “I want you to take a good hard look at what you are about to do. He ruined you once and he can do it again. I can’t watch him bring you down again. He’s an a*shole and you know it. You’re better than this.”

When I think back to the wedding, I recall Rachel being rather cold to Tyler. She greeted him appropriately, but not more than that. She has always felt indifferent toward him and that indifference grew while she lived with us. I always took it as nothing more than a personality conflict. Rachel is strong-willed and out spoken which can create trouble, but she’s never placed herself in a position to question my choices.

“Come on, Rach. I’m nearly twenty-nine years old. This is never going to happen for me with someone else. This is my choice. Tyler and I have history and it’s important to me to make it work, so I need it to be important to you.”

“Fine,” she says putting her hands up in defeat. “You’re an adult and it’s been like, what ten years that you’ve known him? You’d know better than anyone if it was meant to be, right?”

“Almost thirteen years,” I reply.

“Thirteen, no shit? Well, it’s your choice.” She sounds sullen. “When’s the wedding?”

“We haven’t decided on a date. Really we haven’t even talked about it.”

“Well that’s good. Still time to bail,” she says, her tone mocking.

“Rachel, don’t be a jerk.”

“Sorry.”

Maizey shows up just in time to halt the conversation. I know Rachel is none too pleased, but this is where I stand.

Maizey apologizes for being late. She overslept. The best part of her arrival is the shift in conversation. We talk about her job and her husband. She is truly happy and even though she still struggles with feelings of relapse and her own inadequacies, her life is good. She met someone who understands her struggles and is supportive. She finished college and found a job working as a case manager for the Georgia Department of Child and Family Services, a job that she says is rewarding, yet it has made her jaded.

“There are so many bad parents out there. It’s so sad. Although our mother was a crappy mom, she has nothing on these people. Emotionally she f*cked us all up, but physically we’re fine. Most of these kids have more issues than you can even imagine.”

“I’ve always known it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. We grew up middle class. She was the problem and now that we’re away from it, things are better,” Rachel says.

I want to agree with her and I do in some ways, but it’s hard to think that everything is suddenly cured when we remove her from the equation. I still struggle.

The waitress takes our order and we talk about everything from Rachel’s wedding to my stupid job. No matter whom I’m with they always want to know about my glamorous PR job. I try not to dwell on how much I hate it, filling the description with the parts people find entertaining but still plugging in how demanding it is. Shortly after, the waitress brings our food. We finish up, but before leaving we decide to get together over Memorial Day weekend. Maizey and her husband have a vacation home on St. Simon Island about five hours from her house in Atlanta.

With that we kiss good-bye and the three of us head back to our lives as if we do this on a regular basis. It’s nice to have my sisters back in my life and I’m beginning to realize the importance of family.

The good news is my hangover is gone after consuming a mass amount of water and a bacon cheeseburger. It was either that or the fact that ninety percent of it was flushed from my body after I puked.

Tyler is still sleeping when I return so I put on some running clothes and my shoes. Heading out the door I slide my iPod case up my arm and put in my ear buds. My running schedule has diminished greatly since Tyler’s arrival. He won’t exercise with me and sees no point in doing something like running on the beach. He goes to the gym every day, a place that’s filled with sweaty, smelly people and time limited machines and pumped in cold air. I love the outdoors and even when I lived back in Naperville I ran every day regardless of the temperature. On the coldest of days and on the hottest of days I still ran, sometimes in the early morning as the sun was rising, other times late into the night to escape the sweltering heat. It’s one thing that keeps me from going completely crazy.

By the time I return to the hotel, cutting though the lobby and up to the elevator, several hours have passed. I’m sweaty and sandy and desperately in need of a shower. When I enter the room Tyler is on the balcony drinking a cup of coffee, which makes me cringe. The thought of drinking coffee in general makes me cringe, but the thought of drinking it mid-day and when the temperature is above seventy degrees makes me sweat even more than I am already.

I greet him with a quick kiss as he pulls me into his lap. He wraps his arms around me and places a few light kisses along the back of my neck before releasing me. It makes me hope we’re going to be okay.

Things are going better than this morning, but just like always, Tyler can turn on a dime. We hit up the hotel restaurant and I bring up a text that I got from Bob regarding his house warming party.

“You want to go?” he asks with annoyance, while cutting his steak.

“Yes. And I’d really like it if you came with me. Bob’s a good friend and I want you to meet him.” I know Melinda will be there and for me not to show up would really be a total lack of respect for our friendship. “Please. I shouldn’t have to beg you to do something with me.” I pout just slightly for effect.

“Fine. But just so you know the traffic is going to be horrendous on a Friday night.” He sighs and mumbles something under his breath that I want to call him out on but don’t.

“Thank you,” I say smiling sweetly.

Our dinner goes along in a strange uncomfortable silence. It’s almost like we have nothing to say to each other. It’s hard to find topics of conversation with someone who has known you for almost thirteen years. You can only relive the past for so long before that gets boring and it looks like we have reached that point. I try to make conversation by asking how the office set up went and what his schedule looks like for the next few weeks. Tyler’s answers are short and clipped. I turn the table and begin to tell him about my upcoming week. I know I have a few meetings scheduled but overall I won’t be too busy and as of right now I’ll be in town for an entire week. I smile at him hoping he understands my excitement is geared toward him. He obviously misses the point because what he says next shuts me up immediately.

“Do you always have to fill the silence? Can’t we just have a quiet dinner?” He sighs deeply and clangs his knife and fork loudly off the plate as he sets them down. His eyes never meet mine and in the next minute he signals our waiter. He pays the check without even looking at it.

He conveniently misses the disgusted look on my face and my huffy breath as we exit the restaurant. Because he walks to the car at least four steps ahead of me and starts it before I can even open the passenger side door. He’s beginning to piss me off and I know I can’t live in a perpetual state of anger for the rest of my life. The worst part about this is that I’m so close to admitting that Rachel just might be right and that’s the last thing I want to do.

The next morning we wake early and check out of the hotel that has already been paid for by Rachel, which gives me a reason to cover the cost of her plane ticket to Atlanta. The car ride back home is quiet and I allow it because I don’t have to fill the silence and to be honest I am knee deep in emails.

Tyler leaves town late Tuesday night to finish up a trial he has back in Chicago leaving me alone and lonely. This is something I’m not entirely familiar with, as I have lived alone most of my adult life, but no matter what I do I find I’ve become dependent on him. I need someone else with me, sleeping in my bed, watching TV next to me, eating dinner with me and it sucks. When Tyler doesn’t call on Wednesday night I’m crushed. I climb in bed with the feeling of tears welling in my eyes and that tell tale lump in my throat. I fight it back, but I eventually give way to all the insecurities that haunt me from the past. He’s cheating on me.

That’s the first thought that fills my mind and it weighs on me like a ton of bricks. When his phone goes straight to voicemail my thoughts spin wildly out of control. I picture him in bed with another woman. Someone prettier than me, someone who doesn’t have to fill the silence, someone who doesn’t like to run, who works out at the gym and has a perfect tan and skinny calves and is pretty much everything that I’m not. I call him two more times because I convince myself that two more times is only mildly obsessive and when I add in that third phone call I chalk it up to being a good girlfriend and by the fourth phone call you can just call me a stalker. I’m not sure what you would even consider the fifth, sixth or seventh phone calls, probably straight up crazy.

All of my borderline insane tendencies tend to make an appearance when it comes to Tyler. I begin to obsess over the fact that he’s not answering his phone, which then turns to me obsessing over the fact that he just might see all the missed calls on his phone and leave me. Who wants to be stalked by their girlfriend? Who calls someone seven times in thirty minutes? Me, that’s who. As my mind races I realize I never called Gia to tell her Tyler and I are engaged. For some reason I decide that if I talk to Gia about my engagement that it will without a doubt make it okay. There is no way he could cheat on me if I’m saying nice, happy things about us, right? Shit, I really am crazy!

I pick up the phone and dial. She picks up on the first ring with excitement in her voice she greets me warmly. I miss her so much.

“Hi, Gi. Miss you.” I say immediately.

“Me too. What’s going on? How’s Tyler?” she asks but also sounds slightly resigned.

“Good. He’s back in Chicago right now finishing up some trial. For once I’m not gone but he is. It kinda sucks.”

The conversation hits a lull and I know what she’s about to ask. She sighs deeply and begins. “He’s living with you?” It almost sounds like a statement rather than a question. I pause for a moment unsure of how to respond. For the first time in my life I want to lie to Gia. I want to own that lie and fill it with details and take it to my grave. The tone in her voice is disappointment, almost sad, which makes me feel guilty. It makes me want to lie to save my ass from getting chewed out by her. I can’t do it. I could never lie to Gia. Through everything she’s been my one constant, my support system even when she didn’t agree with my decisions.

“Yes and I know what you’re going to say...” She interrupts me almost immediately.

“No you don’t. This time I want you to do what you feel is right. Follow your heart. As much as I can’t say I agree, I just want you to be happy and there was a time when you and Tyler were happy. I hope you can find that again.”

“Thanks. I really needed you to say that. Rachel reamed me out and I wasn’t really in the mood for it again.”

“What’d Rachel have to say?”

“Just that Tyler is an a*shole and he treated me like shit. You know the usual. She said I was making a mistake.” I roll my eyes. Leaning back against a pile of pillows and I press the phone to my ear with my shoulder.

“Since when are you taking relationship advice from Rachel? She pretty much made out with or slept with her entire male graduating class. I still wonder about some of the girls, too. I’m not sure she’s the right one to be dishing out advice.”

“She got married last weekend. I totally forgot to tell you the last time we talked. Things were a little crazy with work and now my...” I stop myself short of saying engagement, since I forgot to mention that to Gia, too.

“Your what?” she asks as if she knows what I’m going to say. She probably does. That is what happens when you know someone as well as Gia and I know each other. There’s no hiding it now.

“M-My...,” I stammer. “Tyler and I are engaged,” I blurt out. “He proposed last week. One day after we got back together to be exact.” I close my eyes tightly and clench my teeth. If she was trying not to be negative before I’m sure this will push her over the edge. The silence on the other end is worse than words.

“Say something Gia. Please. You’re killing me.” I blow out a deep breath. “I love him. I always have.”

“I know,” she says after what feels like hours. “I understand that, it’s just that I can’t help but wonder if this doesn’t have something to do with Ben. It’s hard to heal when you don’t give yourself a chance. Jumping into this might feel really good right now, but you may regret it later.”

“I understand what you’re saying and I know it’s sudden, but we’ve known each other for so long. I feel like it’s right.” I realize I’m lying to Gia as we speak. I don’t know if it’s right. But admitting that would be like giving up and I can’t give up on something that is so new. I also don’t tell her about my wild imagination, that’s just far too embarrassing to even admit to Gia. I wouldn’t so much call it a lie, but an omission. That sounds better.

“When’s the wedding?”

“I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about it yet.”

“Well, I guess that’s good. That’ll give you some time to think it through.”

“That’s what Rachel said, except her words were a little more direct.” I recall exactly what she said to me and I want to punch her in the face.

“Don’t tell me I actually agree with Rachel on something? I think that’s a first.” Gia says, pointedly. Gia and Rachel have never gotten along. Gia always found Rachel’s slutty high school tendencies repulsive and crass. Once Rachel told Gia she didn’t wear underwear to school so the boys could look up her skirt as she walked up the stairs. Gia didn’t understand at first and when she finally got it the look of disgust on her face was unmistakable. I also don’t think Gia wore a skirt or dress to school for the next two years.

“At least you’re a little nicer about it than her.”

We talk about the kids and her job. And before long it’s late so we say our good-byes. She tells me she’ll make it out my way for the wedding. I hang up with her feeling better and resign myself not to call Tyler again.

I spend the rest of the night working on a whole bunch of press packets that I should have done weeks ago. It keeps my mind occupied long enough to forget about the fact that Tyler is currently possibly cheating on me. Just as my thoughts begin to drift back into the realm of crazy my Skype alert goes off.

“Hi kid. Miss you,” Tyler says as his face appears on the screen and his lips move unconnected to the words. The screen freezes slightly and picks back up in time with his words.

“Miss you, too. Where’ve you been?” I’m smiling, but feeling slightly nervous about what he might say and how I’m possibly going to explain the excessive amount of phone calls that I bombarded his phone with.

“I was working out and then I had dinner with my parents. Did you try to call?”

I can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic and asking because he can see the seven calls I made to him in just under a half an hour. I play dumb.

“I did. It was a while ago. I’ve been working on some stuff for work. It’s been a boring night.”

“I turned my phone off during dinner. My mom hates when it rings during dinner, which is ironic because that is all her phone does. She rationalizes it by saying she’s a doctor.”

I sigh inwardly calming my over-stressed nerves and I finally can relax knowing that my irrational conscience is totally wrong.

“I am so busy next week and the week after. I have to be in New York for a few days and then in Seattle. When I finally get home I have three full days of a press junket. I don’t think we’re ever going to get a minute when we’re home together.”

“That sucks, but I’ll be busy, too. I have to fly back out here to finish up one last trial and then I’ll be around more. Don’t worry about it. I promise you things will work out. I can tell you’re worried. But don’t because I love you.”

This makes me smile and in turn Tyler smiles brightly at me through the computer screen. I know I love him and I hope that we can make this work.

“How are your parents?” I ask even though I am not sure I really care.

“Good. The usual. At least we get along now that I’m an adult. It also doesn’t hurt that I’m actually successful. They didn’t really want to talk about the engagement though. Neither of them said it but I can tell they don’t approve.” He shrugs his shoulders and runs his hand through his hair. “Oh yeah, and my mom told me to tell you that she’s glad you found a hobby to keep you busy.”

“What hobby?” I’m totally confused by this comment. The only hobby I have is running and I know she doesn’t mean that.

“She means your job. Passive aggressive to say the least,” Tyler says.

“I wish I liked my job as much as a hobby. Next time tell her that I love my little hobby so much I don’t even get paid to do it. Because if I got paid it would be a job, oh wait, I do get paid. Boy, she hasn’t changed at all. Maybe I should start on the hunt for a “real career” so that she isn’t embarrassed by my fake one.”

That little bit of information has me fuming. I work hard at my job, even though I hate it. That doesn’t mean someone can mock it and call it a “hobby”. A hobby, it definitely is not, but that makes no difference to Tyler’s mom. I am not a doctor or a lawyer. I don’t own a widely known and successful production company or a have a seat on the Chicago Board of Trade, so that makes my job a hobby. She has failed to see my success.

“Oh, relax. She’s a pain in the ass. I just thought it was a funny comment. Obviously she was serious and also being patronizing, but who cares. I don’t.”

“You’re right. I just don’t want to have to deal with her petty comments every time we see them.”

“We don’t have to see them if you don’t want to. Let’s stop talking about this, I’m getting annoyed.” He exhales loudly and runs his hand through his hair again. “I was thinking it might be time for you to get a new car.”

“Why? I like my car.”

“Because it’s getting old and it’s the kind of car you buy for a sixteen year old girl.”

I roll my eyes. Everyone mocks my little car.

“There’s nothing wrong with it and it’s only seven years old. People keep cars far longer than that. And why is it your business what kind of car I drive? I don’t like it when you tell me what to do.”

“This isn’t supposed to be an argument, Krissy. It was just an idea. A bad one. I can see that now. Forget I asked.”

“Sorry. It’s just that it’s the first new car I ever bought on my own. It holds some sentimental value.”

“I just thought that now that we have two incomes you might want something nicer, newer. We can just go look and if you still want to keep your old car, then that’s fine. “

“Okay,” I concede, smiling lightly.

“Maybe this weekend? We can go check out a few dealers. I’ve been doing some research.”

“As long as you don’t try to get me to buy a Range Rover. It will never happen.”

He furrows his brow and glares at me. I giggle and wrinkle my nose at him. This is the Tyler that I love. The one that is silly and fun.

“No Range Rover, I promise.” He laughs and his eyes crinkle at the corners. “I have to get to bed. I’m exhausted. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”