She continued her verbal assault while I waited impatiently for the right time to strike. “We never went out with your friends, my friends, hell I’ve still never met your parents. You never went all-in with me. You’re quick to accuse me of being the only one who isn’t invested in our relationship, but you’ve never given me all of you. It’s always just been the pieces you were comfortable with. And I settled for that. First, because I thought that it was temporary, and then because I felt that I deserved it. But you’re not the only one who deserves happiness. You’re not the only one who should be forgiven unconditionally. I should get those things too. And you should want to give them.”
I let her words sink in as I tried to formulate a coherent response that wasn't said completely in anger. “I admit, I’ve had a difficult time getting past what happened last year. But beyond that issue, I’ve done nothing that I need your ‘unconditional forgiveness’ for. I’ve been all-in since January. I’ve done everything to try and make things right between us.” I wasn’t sure when I’d started raising my voice, but I willed myself to calm down. The last thing we needed was for the neighbors to call the cops.
“Really? You’ve done nothing that needs forgiving, huh?”
I shook my head, uncertain of what she planned to say.
A harsh smile crossed her face that looked more like a wince. “When’s my birthday, Adam?”
I racked my brain, trying to remember if we’d been together for it last year. I didn’t remember celebrating it. But, wait . . . hadn’t her parents come to town for it? Was it . . . Fuck.
“March 23rd. My birthday is March 23rd.” She crossed her arms over her chest, and lowered her voice. “Don’t tell me that you’re all-in,” she shrugged, "because you're not.”
“But, shit, you never said anything.”
“So it’s my fault that you didn’t remember?” She let out a bewildered laugh. “It’s always someone else, isn’t it?” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. When she finally reopened them, she continued calmly, “Look, I’m not ten. It’s not the end of the world that you forgot my birthday. It’s just . . . it’s a sign of just how little thought you really give me. I’m just part of the supporting cast in the movie of your life, Adam. You’re so busy trying to forgive me, you aren’t seeing me. We aren’t together in this.” She looked toward the floor. “We aren’t equal. And I can’t spend the rest of my life not being good enough. I love you. But I’m not sure that you love me.”
I crossed my arms, mirroring her posture. I had shifted from feeling guilty to being irate again in a nanosecond. “You don’t know if I love you?” I laughed, disgusted by the thought. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around? What would make me think for a second that I should trust anything you have to say?”
“Ah, so blame finds its way back to me again. This is exactly what I’m talking about. You just can't let the past go.”
My anger had quadrupled, and I tried unsuccessfully to keep my voice down. “Blame finds its way back to you because it’s your fault, Lily. All of this bullshit we’re going through right now: you did it, not me. You act like I should just forgive and forget, sing kumbaya or some shit. Well, I’ve got news for you: it’s not that easy. You ruined what we had for some fling with a piece of shit hockey player.
Her jaw ticked, her eyes the coldest I’d ever seen them. “Max is a lot of things, but a piece of shit isn’t one of them.”
My blood boiled at the sound of his name. “That’s all you have to say? How can you possibly defend him at a time like this? Do you have any idea what that feels like?”
“He didn’t force himself on me, Adam. How you feel about him, you should feel about me. And I think you do. You just won’t admit it to yourself.”
“You want me to forget what you’ve done just because you’re sorry? Because you say you’ve changed? You hurt me, Lily. You hurt us. So don’t act like you’re not deserving of that pain.”
Tears lingered behind her eyes, threatening to fall. But she spoke evenly. “I’ve come to terms with the pain I caused myself. I deserve every ounce of it. And you’re right, Adam. I hurt you too. But I’ve served my time for that. I’ve apologized for it, and I’ve waited for you to forgive me. But you know who else didn’t deserve the hurt I caused him? You know who never once asked me for the apology that he deserved?”
Don’t even fucking say it.
“Max.” Her eyes were acid on mine, burning through me as she spoke. “And you wanna know something else?” she said calmly, not waiting for me to respond to her rhetorical question. “That ‘piece of shit’ . . . he knew when my birthday was.”
Her last comment struck me like a punch to the stomach and I collapsed heavily onto her couch again, letting myself feel the full weight of her words before finally speaking. “This won’t work, will it?”
My quiet words caused her expression to soften, and she took a seat on a nearby chair. “What won’t?”
I buried my face in my hands as I tried to rub away the tension before making eye contact with her. “Us,” I said. “No matter what we do, we’ll never be able to fix what’s broken.”