Rose
AFTER READING SPIDER’S TEXT, I put my phone away. I told him I was going to turn it off, but I’m not. I just can’t talk to him right now.
I close my eyes and lean my head back against the wall in the library where I’m currently hiding out, supposedly working on a research paper for one of my classes.
I pull out the cherry-flavored Gatorade Oscar tucked in my backpack this morning and chug it down along with a few Saltines—lunch of champions.
After forcing myself to take a few more notes on my laptop, I wrap things up and head to my weekend Krav Maga class at a small gym on Brewster Street. As soon as I moved to New York, I signed up for the course I’d started in Dallas. Employing efficient movements and gut instincts, my instructor is one of the best in the city.
After a grueling lesson where my partner slams me down on the mat more times than I think is necessary—though my body somehow likes it—I shower there and change into my usual black slacks and button-up white blouse with the lace collar, my uniform for Bono’s. I blow out my hair and pull it up in a topknot. My only makeup is my deep red lipstick and some mascara.
Tonight, I’m working the dinner shift. It’s the weekend, so things will be hopping, and I’m glad because I won’t have time to think about Spider.
As I walk in the door, I receive another text from Anne. She sent one last night saying they were coming to New York and I never replied. I reply back and ask about their plans, anxious to know if I’ll see Bella. She tells me they’re coming without Bella and staying at their penthouse since the painters have finished. She invites me to dinner Sunday night, and I tell her yes since I’m not working.
It’s her next text that throws me.
We’ll be attending Spider’s art show on Monday. Are you going?
Art show? I know nothing about it.
I’m not sure how to answer her.
One of the managers calls my name and I know it’s time to get to work. Wanting to know more about the show but also needing to not get fired, I tuck my phone away.
At nine, when the dinner rush has slowed, I’m serving a table of four their entrees when I hear a familiar voice behind me.
“I guess you’ve come a long way when you go from Jo’s Diner to Manhattan. Yet, you’re still a waitress. How . . . quaint.”
My teeth grit as I turn to see Aria, Trenton, and Garrett being seated by the hostess, who sends me an apologetic glance after Aria’s comment. “These guys want your section.”
I sigh. “Great.”
Trenton gives me a sweeping hug. “We’re here to celebrate. I got everything turned in on time and the client is referring me to some of his buddies.”
I blink, suddenly remembering that I was supposed to pop over to his place last night to talk.
He doesn’t mention that I never replied to his texts, probably because Aria and Garrett are here.
“That’s awesome. Congratulations.” My voice is flat.
Aria narrows her eyes at me. “And of course you recall Garrett, my fiancé.” She emphasizes the last word.
I focus my gaze on him. Screw you, my eyes say.
Garrett has lost hair on top and looks sour and a bit sullen, his shoulders stiff as he watches me. A slight sneer curls his lips before disappearing in the blink of an eye, a micro-expression, those things people do when they want to hide how they really feel. Most of them are completely involuntary. It’s like when you walk into someone’s house and you smell cat pee—you can’t hide the brief expression of displeasure.
I exhale and look at Trenton.
Today . . . with all three of them here, my head just . . . hurts.
“I’m not going to be your waitress,” I state.
“That’s just pure laziness,” Aria murmurs. “Don’t you make money on tips?”
“I don’t want your money.” I face Trenton, a ball of anger building. “You brought them here . . . without even asking me?”
His face scrunches up as if dislikes my tone. “They’re family. If this is about me working—”
“No.” I hold my hand up. “This is about you and me.”
He must read something on my face because he takes my elbow and leads me away from Aria and Garrett until we’re standing a few feet away near the front door.
“What’s wrong with you, Rose?” His voice borders between irritated and surprised.
Normally, I’m easy and ready to go along with whatever he wants.
The air is tense, and I know this moment is about truth, about being true to myself when I haven’t been for a long time. I look Trenton over, my gut realizing that I’ve just been passing time with him, content with our relationship but not really happy. He doesn’t get who I am and what I need.
“I can’t see you anymore.”
Shock settles on his face. “I-I . . . I can’t believe this. What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s not you. It’s just . . . we’ve been drifting apart for a while.”
He sighs. “We’d see each other more if you’d move in with me and stop working—”
“I’m not it for you,” I say, cutting him off.
His eyes sharpen. “What’s this really about?”
My lips tighten.
He watches me. “Is this about Spider? I might have been drunk the night I saw you two together, but I’d have to be an idiot to not see that he wants you.”
In for a penny, in for a pound.
I clench my fists for strength. “I had sex with Spider . . . this week.” I rip the Band-Aid off, ready to get to the healing part.
His face goes white and a muscle flexes in his jaw. His chest expands as he inhales a deep breath.
I nod. “I’m sorry to hurt you. I really am. We haven’t been right . . . for a long time.”
He’s angry now, his neck and face turning red. It’s the most reaction I’ve seen out of him in a long time. “Everyone knows he’s on drugs, Rose. He’ll never be true to you.”
His last words kill me, because they might be true. I can’t think about that right now, and I focus on telling the truth. “I love him more than anything.” More than you.
Emotion ripples across his face and he shakes his head at me. His hands clench, and I can tell he’s wrestling with his feelings, deciding on what to say to me. I prepare myself for him to lash out. He doesn’t disappoint and the words he uses only prove that he and I were never meant to be together. “I should have listened to my friends. You really are just trash, Rose.”
Then he turns and stalks back to where Aria and Garrett await. I watch as he briefly tells them something and they turn to look at me. Without another word, they gather their things from the table where the hostess placed them and walk out the door.
After my shift, I’m exhausted. It’s almost midnight and all I want to do is fall in the bed.
As I walk home, Oscar texts that he’s staying overnight with Axe again but will be home in the morning to make us Sunday breakfast. I tap out a quick reply telling him to invite Axe over too. I’m happy that at least one of us has a great love life.
When I arrive at my building, the doorman lets me up, and I enter the elevator and lean against the wall.