I text Ram and wait for him to respond. While I wait, I look at his Instagram pictures. There are a few of us surfing together. I try not to think too much about the fact that he has me mixed up in his photos since he has his other students on there as well, but it feels good to see it. I’m not someone he’s trying to keep secret, at least. We look good together. Everything about us fits so well. His blond hair complements my auburn waves. Our bodies are evenly matched with both of us having athletic builds. We look like companion dolls. My Barbie to his Ken.
The voice over my shoulder startles me. I put down the phone as if being caught watching something inappropriate. I turn and see a beautiful woman standing there. Short and compact with the perfect dancer’s body, cropped blond hair in a pixie cut. A pink little cupid’s bow for a mouth. She’s one of the girls who auditioned for the same part as me. She ended up getting the part of Penelope’s sister. We’ll be working together now.
My face lights up. “Hi, I’m Cadie,” I say, introducing myself. If we’re going to be spending a lot of time together, it’s best to make friends.
She gives me a friendly, yet assessing, smile. “Mara. Congratulations on making the cut. I didn’t see that coming.”
My smile falters a little, but I manage to keep it there. I don’t know if she intentionally meant that to be underhanded, but it sure as hell sounded like it. I decide to give her the benefit of the doubt, though. Last thing I want is to work closely with someone I hate. I need to make this work.
“Thank you,” I say graciously.
“I don’t mean to pry,” she says, though the tone of her voice tells me that’s exactly what she’s aiming for. “But I couldn’t help but see the photos of the guy you were looking at. Do you know him?”
Apprehensive, I nod my head. “His name is Ram.”
“Is that his name?” she says all innocence and smiles. “I’ve only known him as the Bed Shaker. Isn’t it wonderful what he does for women? I mean, no one has ever made me come the way he has. I can’t wait to see him again.”
My throat tightens. I struggle to swallow down the sickness rising up from my stomach. Ram has been with this little troll? Of course he has. She’s beautiful. That seems to be the only prerequisite for the women he sleeps with according to Gina. How can I work with this woman knowing she’s been with the man I’m sleeping with?
Mara acts like she doesn’t see my distress, but I know she does, and she takes that knife and twists it in. Her face goes slack with concern, her voice condescending. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry. If it makes you feel better, he doesn’t respond to my personal messages, but he obviously does yours. Maybe you’re special?” She shrugs as if she doubts it, then walks away, bouncing on her toes as she does.
I’m going to be sick. I hold my stomach, afraid I’ll puke right here in front of everyone. My head is filled with images of Ram fucking that dumb bitch, and I’m pissed. I close my eyes, trying to block it out, but it makes it worse. How many people has he had sex with since me? Probably a lot. I should’ve known better, but somehow the thought never even occurred to me. How could I be so stupid? I can’t be with him anymore. I don’t know if I can take this job either.
Ram texts me back. I turn off my phone without even looking at it. I have to get away. I have to leave this place.
I get home and change into a pair of shorts and a tank top. The plan is to lounge around the apartment, binge-watch Stranger Things, and eat the carton of double fudge ice cream I bought on my way home. No thinking of Ram or that dumb bitch I’ll have to see every day when I go to work. What a fucking nightmare. Every time I see her, I’ll picture them together. It will drive me insane.
Hercules, aware of my current mood, won’t let me out if his sight. He stays at my heel as I grab a big serving spoon and plop down on the couch. No bowl for me. I plan to eat this entire lactose bomb out of the container. This might be the one and only perk of being an adult. There’s no one around to tell me I can’t, and no one to judge me for doing it.
I’ve settled into a comfy position on the couch. Hercules is cuddled up next to me. I’m on the third episode and things on the show are getting crazy and my brain has finally allowed me a moment’s peace. All I’m thinking about is the show.
Then the doorbell rings.
My heart leaps into my throat. Oh God, what if that’s Ram? I don’t want to see him or talk to him. Please go away.
I stand up and watch the door, thankful that I locked it. He must’ve seen my car, so he knows I’m home. I just hope he gets the hint and goes away.
The doorbell rings again. I take a steadying breath. Fuck. A few seconds later, I open it.
“Evan?” I say, surprised and a little disappointed. Though I was sure I didn’t want to see Ram, I guess a little part of me did. “What the fuck do you want?”
He looks terrible. He was never really all that handsome; he was too pale, a good three inches shorter than me, and a little on the skinny side. It was never his looks and body that drew me to him. He was a nice guy—or so I thought—and I’d never dated the ‘nice guy’ accountant before. I’d always been attracted to the bad boys. The ones who work with their hands and don’t mind getting dirty. The manly-types. Since I hadn’t had great luck in the past with the bad boys, I decided to give Evan a shot. That didn’t turn out so great. I’m starting to wonder if maybe it’s me. Maybe I just don’t have good luck with men.
“Can we talk?” he says.
I should tell him to go fuck himself. I’ve wanted to do that for a long time. If he didn’t look so miserable, I would. Beneath his eyes are heavy, bruised-looking circles. He’s lost weight, his hair looks a bit thinner, and he looks like he’s aged years in a matter of weeks since I saw him at the mall. I guess I didn’t really bother to see how he looked then either. I was too busy paying attention to his pregnant girlfriend.
I sigh and open the door. When he steps in, I close it behind him.
“Hey Hercules,” he says to my dog in that high-pitched way people talk to animals. Hercules is not interested. He looks once at Evan in curiosity, then returns to his sleeping position on the couch.
“What’s this about, Evan?” I say, letting my annoyance color my voice.
“Can we sit?” he asks.
I motion to the couch. He sits on one side. I make sure Hercules is between us when I sit on the other. God, how could I ever have been with this guy? After being with Ram, it’s impossible to be attracted to anyone else. Has Ram ruined me? Will I ever be able to find anyone else who even compares? The thought makes me nervous.
“I’m so sorry for what I did to you,” he says, shaking me out of my reverie. I just stare at him, not knowing what to say to that. “I made such a huge mistake leaving you. You were the perfect girl, and I was so insecure around you. You’re so beautiful and sexy, and I was scared to death that you would realize that you were too good for me and would walk out the door. So when Shelly approached me, I just …”
Her name is Shelly? That’s about all I get from that whole line of bullshit he spills on me.
“I just wanted the attention. It wasn’t supposed to be anything more,” he says.
Why am I still sitting here? Why am I listening to this? I must be a glutton for punishment because I remain frozen on the couch.
“I guess it’s too bad she’s pregnant. Now you’re stuck with her,” I say, surprised at how cold I sound.
His mouth hangs open. I guess he didn’t realize I was aware of that. He shakes off the dumb expression from his face and straightens up.
“I’ll take care of the child. I’m not a dead-beat. But I can’t be with Shelly. I don’t love her. I love you. I need you back, Cadie.”
He starts to grovel and it makes me sick. I bite back all the venomous words I want to spit at him.
“After the way you betrayed me, there’s no way I would ever take you back,” I say in a matter-of-fact tone that leaves no room for argument.
“Oh … I
thought after you sent those sexy pics, there might still be a chance for us. I look at them every day.”
“That was a mistake,” I tell him. “I shouldn’t have done that. I was drunk.”
A tear slips down his cheek. He hurries to wipe it away. He’s actually crying? If he wasn’t such a douchebag, I would feel sorry for him. Actually, I do feel sorry for him, douchebag and all. I know what it’s like to care deeply for someone who doesn’t return your feelings. I don’t know how Ram really feels about me, but it’s probably not what I’m feeling for him. And that sucks. It sucks that I feel anything at all because we can’t be together. Not now. Not after what happened today.
Does it make me a terrible person that I want Evan to hold me just so I have someone else as pathetic as I am to commiserate?
“Can I get a glass of water?” he asks.
I nod. He knows where everything is. He used to live here, after all.
While he’s busy doing that, I turn on my phone. There’s a ton of missed texts and calls from Ram. I’ll deal with those later. I find Gina’s number and send her a quick text.
Me: Get over here ASAP. Evan is at my apartment crying and wanting to get back together. WTF should I do?
Evan gets his water and settles back down on the couch. I tuck my phone under my leg.
“So, are you seeing someone?” he asks in such a sad, pitiful voice that I cringe.
“No,” I say, because I’m not sure what’s happening between Ram and me. Whatever is going on might all be in my head.
The doorbell rings. Gina! Thank God she lives nearby.