We sit in silence for a while, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I wish I could have a real drink but I’ve already had some champagne tonight. I cut back on alcohol when I was first diagnosed. My body has been stressed enough so I don’t need to add liver damage to the mix.
“So, what’s your deal?”
Anya’s voice slurs slightly and I make a note to slow down with the drinks. She hasn’t noticed I’m drinking club soda yet so she probably thinks we’re getting drunk together. I signal the bartender to bring more water.
I don’t know Anya well but I feel responsible for her since we have so many friends in common. The fact that she has a bit of a crush on my man is a minor annoyance. Hey, it’s not like I can blame her.
He is pretty dreamy.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re gorgeous. You have the whole Gigi Hadid thing going on. Why are you drinking at the bar during a wedding? I mean, I know why I’m here.”
“Why are you here? Aren’t you the one with the hot silver fox boyfriend?”
“The man who wants to keep our relationship a secret? The man who never wants to talk about the future? Is that really a boyfriend or just a man I don’t have the willpower to say no to?”
“Ahhh, I think I’m starting to understand. He won’t commit. Sounds like we have opposite problems. Your guy won’t stay and I can’t figure out how to get rid of mine. Maybe we should switch lives.”
She snorts with laughter almost falling off the barstool. Wisely, the bartender leaves her water and then quickly retreats.
Anya takes a gulp from the glass. Unfortunately most of it goes down the front of her dress. I smother a laugh.
The bartender gives me a look like I am not taking responsibility for this one.
“Don’t say it. I know I’m a hot mess,” Anya grumbles.
“No, you’re just disappointed. I’ve been there. Men are fun to play with but you can’t rely on them. You have to rely on yourself.”
The words I’ve parroted so many times sound hollow. But this is what has gotten me through the years. Having casual, fun relationships and expecting nothing more.
It hurts because I’d really started to hope for more with Vin. I thought we could have it all. But I was just fooling myself.
“I want to rely on myself. Be all independent woman, hear me roar! But it never seems to work out that way. Tell me how you do it.” Anya looks fascinated.
“I just do what I want. Men get away with all kinds of bad behavior but women are expected to be perfect. So stop being perfect. Just live your life in the moment. See that hot guy over there?”
She glances behind us. There is an extremely sexy man standing on the other side of the room.
“Wow. Yeah, he is hot.”
I wink. “You should ask for his number.”
“What? I can’t do that. I h-have a boyfriend.”
“Do you? Because I’m pretty sure you just said that dude doesn’t want to be locked down.”
Anya looks skeptical. “Well, what about you? You’re trying to get rid of a guy, so what are you doing wrong?”
“I don’t know. That’s just it. None of my usual crazy is working. I’ve done some of the most batshit stuff to this guy and he just… rolls with it.”
“You should cook for him. Ask him about his day. Kiss him like you missed him. That should send him running. It works for me.”
I turn to Anya in amazement. Her drunken musings may have just solved both of our problems.
Be nice. Be clingy.
It’s the ultimate power play.