“Everything before the ‘but’ is bullshit.”
I didn’t respond immediately. “I’m not ready to apologize without a ‘but’ yet.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No. I need to say a few things before I can apologize. If you don’t want to listen, then we don’t have to talk yet.”
She was quiet so long I thought she might have hung up. “Fine. Talk.”
“Okay.” I picked up my list.
“Don’t tell me you made a list to talk to me.”
She knew me too well. “I did. I don’t want to mess up.”
“It’s me, Lily.”
“Yeah. I know. That’s why it’s important.” She didn’t respond. “Okay. I love you to death. I need to say that. I know you’re rolling your eyes right now, but I wanted to start with that. Number two: I didn’t actually think you’d mind the blog.”
“I—”
“Wait, please, let me finish, okay?” She stopped. “Number three: It really hurt my feelings when you said you wanted me to wear the minimizing bra to your wedding too. You’re my best friend, and I always thought you were the one person who loved me exactly as I was, and that sucked. A lot. Number four: I couldn’t believe you told me to re-dye my hair for your wedding. I don’t even want this stupid hair color, but why are you making me change how I look?” I took a deep breath.
“Can I talk now?”
“No. I have one more and it’s the big one.”
“Okay.”
“You killed me when you said I couldn’t date Alex.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t—”
“You did though. You said I didn’t do relationships so I needed to not mess around with Tim’s friends. And that wasn’t fair. Because it wasn’t messing around with Alex. It was—well, it doesn’t matter now because he doesn’t want to be with me anymore. But it was real.”
She was quiet. “Now can I respond?”
“Yeah.”
“Look at the Alex thing from my point of view for a minute. The night of my engagement party, you—”
“I know.”
“And then Alex went around telling everyone that you and he—”
“I know that too.”
“And then you said Alex was saying that because Justin was trying to sleep with you. And it just looked like you were creating a lot of drama for no reason.”
“I think I’m done creating drama for a while.”
“I think that blog says otherwise.”
“I deleted it. It’s gone.”
“Nothing is ever gone. That Buzzfeed post is still a thing.”
“It’s Buzzfeed, Megs. Name one Buzzfeed thing you remember from before this. Other than a quiz about which type of French fry you are.”
Neither of us said anything for a long time. “You don’t have to wear the bra. Or change your hair,” she said finally.
“Well I do have to wear the bra now, because the dress won’t fit if I don’t and it’s too late to get it re-tailored. But thank you. And I already have the appointment to re-dye my hair.”
“I actually kind of like it how it is. It’s subtle. And I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”
“It’s not me though.”
There was another silence. We had never had an awkward pause in twenty-five years of friendship before this conversation.
“Do you want to be with Alex?”
“It’s a moot point now.”
“I’m not taking the blame for that. You did that yourself.”
“I know.” Pause. “I’m sorry, Megs.”
“No more ‘buts’?”
“No.”
“Okay then.”
“That’s all?”
“I’m still annoyed. That isn’t going to go away overnight. But you’re my best friend. What am I going to do? Kick you out of my wed—oh shit, are other people kicking you out of their weddings?”
“I don’t know. Amy isn’t. Sharon said she’s got to think about it. Caryn isn’t talking to me yet.”
“Isn’t Caryn’s this weekend?”
“Yeah.”
“She’s got to be flipping out right now. She’s so worried about appearances, and if she cuts you out, everyone will know why.”
“It would probably be a relief if she did. I wouldn’t have to face her coven of bridesmaids.”
“They’re totally doing incantations about you right now.”
“I know.”
“Which way do you think Sharon will go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you going to be in trouble at work?”
“I assume I’ll find out tomorrow.”
Megan went quiet again. “Lil—why didn’t you tell me you actually liked Alex?”
I closed my eyes. “I think I was in denial. If I didn’t admit it to myself, I couldn’t get hurt.”
“How’d that work out?” I didn’t respond and she didn’t press it. “Let me know what happens tomorrow?” I told her I would. “Your maid of honor speech better be amazing, now that I’ve seen your writing.”
“Ha. I’ll get right on that. I may have two of the next three weekends free.”
“Good. You can help me finish favors.”
I smiled faintly.
“I still love you, you know. Even though this was a horrible friend move.”
“I love you too. Even if I suck at showing it.” I started to say goodbye, then realized I had forgotten about Tim’s sister’s threat to not be in the wedding if I was. “Wait, what about Claire?”
“She’s all talk. There’s no way she’d miss the chance to snub you at the wedding.”
“Great. Something to look forward to.” I hesitated. “I know I don’t have any right to ask this, but you won’t make me walk down the aisle with Alex, right?”
“It would be a fitting punishment.”
“Megan, please.”
“You’re not. You’re with the best man. You’re all at the same table at the reception though. It’d look weird if I had one bridesmaid somewhere else.”
“Okay, that’s fine. I just—I can’t walk down the aisle with him. And I know this is what you were trying to avoid, and I’m sorry, but I can’t—”
“How many times have you said those words today? ‘I’m sorry.’”
“More than I think I have in my entire life.”
“Have a glass of wine and get some sleep. It sounds like tomorrow might be a rough one too.”
I agreed and we said good night.
I had one last apology to send that night. I was lying in bed, where I always texted him before I went to sleep. I opened the conversation with Alex, then typed the same two words that I had been saying all day. No buts. Just, I’m sorry.
The three dots appeared to show he was typing, then disappeared. They didn’t reappear.
I turned my phone facedown and cried, one more time, knowing it was really and truly over.
CHAPTER FORTY
Caryn still hadn’t returned my messages by the time I stopped crying and settled in to try to sleep Monday night. But on the plus side, I hadn’t gotten any emails indicating I would be fired in the morning, so I would take the victory there.
They don’t give you advance warning on that anymore, Becca texted when I told her that was the good news. Prevents workplace shootings and all.
“Thanks, Bec,” I said out loud. Great.
I tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable. And God, how I missed Alex. I hadn’t realized how much I would miss talking to him before I went to bed at night. He would have known how to make me feel better.
When I woke up Tuesday morning, I looked in the mirror. The eyelash extensions just highlighted how red my eyes were, so I dug through the bathroom drawer for some unexpired eye drops and eventually found a bottle that still had a month left. I couldn’t walk into my own execution looking like I was high. My eyes were still glassy after the drops, but at least they were a more normal color.
I rushed out the door and hopped on the Metro. As I passed Starbucks, I looked longingly at it, but decided not to stop. There wouldn’t be anything from Alex, and I couldn’t be late today. Coffee in the break room would be good enough.