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There was a vice around his lungs, his heart, his gut. Everything hurt and the world spun, black spots coming into his vision. Bernadette's voice sounded like he was listening to her from the bottom of a pool. He heard "mistake" loud and clear. He lifted the cigarette to his lips and inhaled the smoke. It was only when his body automatically drew in the smoke that he realized he had stopped breathing. The heavy air he took into his lungs was not the air his body wanted and quickly spit it out to take in the clean air. He flicked off the ash from his smoke and put it back to his lips. He listened to her words, but he didn't understand them. All he heard was "mistake", the words that followed him everywhere.
"I am a mistake," he stated plainly without looking to her. He couldn't take his eyes off of the clear patch of pavement below him. There was nothing that would obstruct his fall, slow him. He just had to tip forward and enjoy the ride. The regret part, he got that. He understood why she didn't want to regret the person she gave something special to, but that didn't mean she had to give it to someone that would be there forever. His mind lingered on regret now. She would regret being with him. That wasn't the point of all of this. Maybe it should be. He was supposed to be a speed bump in her life. He was supposed to give her a jolt, test her shocks, let her roll over him, and leave him behind.
He took careful care of tapping off the ash at the end of his cigarette again. He took in the final inhale and deposited the butt into the vase. The pain was back but it radiated in his head this time. After going all day on only one dose of nicotine, his body was angry at him. He wasn't sure if he preferred being numb or being in pain. Both were miserable, but he was sure which was more. "You don't have to explain anymore, Bee. You want to be married to a white Knight, the whole fairytale. You don't want a fuck up. You know that is what I am, we both know it. The difference is that I can accept that I am worthless. I don't need to be reminded that I am not a white knight, that I am not worthy. I get it. It's fine. Don't worry about it. I am a mistake, you regret letting me in how you did. That's fine, I will back off." He swung his legs over the edge and jumped back onto the patio. He wanted to walk past her, but he stopped for a moment to study her. He took her chin in his fingers and pulled her up to meet his eyes. His were gentle, assuring. He was fine with who he was, how he was. "Seriously, Bee. Stop wasting your tears on me. Stay though. Come to Holi. You have come all of this way. Stay for Holi." He leaned down and kissed her cheek quickly, just as he always did when he told her goodbye.
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The time for daydreaming was over as the crowd erupted in cheers which broke her concentration. Genevive pushed through the crowd, fighting elbows and bodies in a less than coordinated manner. Her erratic heartbeat was distracting, pulling focus from her rational thoughts.
She scrambled forwards, begging her voice to work, to rise above the roar of the crowd to call his name. This was the last chance she would have to speak to him, to say her peace. She made it front and center, just in time to watch the head of another sinner drop into the basket.
The executioner paused to wipe his blade, methodically, his head hung in sorrow while the Bishop beamed beside him.
Peter was up next, his green eyes held high over the crowd. If he had seen Genevive in the crowd it wasn’t apparent. She wanted to yell out to him but her voice wasn’t loud enough to reach over the others who were half whispering and gasping in their gossip. Genevive wasn’t the only one he had fooled.
As Peter took the stand, his eyes stayed above the crowd, missing her though she was close enough she might be able to rip him from the stage. But there was no way out. This wasn’t the crowd where she could fake a distraction. She couldn’t coerce her way through this even if she could spare to lose a few secrets. Maybe if she had known earlier, if the information hadn’t been kept from her.
Peter refused to kneel, refused to say his last words when he was asked. He was knocked down, pushed by the foot of the Bishop who stepped away conspicuously. Genevive could see the joy this day brought him and her fingers itched to wipe the smile away. But as Peter fell, bowing his head in obeyance. His green eyes met hers for the first time. They were clear as freshwater, open for her to read every thought inside his mind. Just like the first time they met when he was so open and honest with her. He didn’t need to speak to her for her to know what was on his mind. They sat in silence for nearly an hour that first night, sipping wine and smoking exotic tobacco.
Her lungs hurt in nearly the same way it did that night, filled with heavy foreign air. She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t breathe with the weight on her chest. But there it was, the truth in his eyes as he apologized in silence. She opened her mouth, to spill just one secret. It was the secret everyone knew but she had never spoken.
Drops of his blood silenced her tongue as it was splattered across her face, first warm then chilled by the breeze that rushed around her as the crowd jumped to cheer. She was done here. She had seen what she needed to see and she turned to make her way through the crowd. Her footsteps were calculated again, her mind cleansed of her panic and replaced with cold rage. She avoided elbows and deftly dodged Tillie’s grasp. Genevive had pushed the scared little girl down and walked the way back to the outskirts of town where she called the brothel her home, the blood dried on her face from the heat.
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A pink frosted doughnut was pushed across a crowded desk and the woman sitting in a
wobbly chair groaned. “You know I can’t eat that. I only have a month to drop five more pounds
to fit in my dress,” she insisted while pushing the pastry back.
A bubbly blonde rolled her eyes in a full circle and pushed it back. “Amy, you are
beautiful and thin. One doughnut celebrating my inevitable aging is the least you could do to
make me feel better about my demise,” the blonde whined lavishly while pretending to wilt like
a cut flower in the sun.
Amelia—known to most as Amy—sighed and picked up the pastry. “I want it stated in
the record that you are twenty-six. There is no demise. I am consuming one-hundred and ninety-
five calories for your benefit,” she smacked around the mouthful of crumbly doughnut. Had this
been any other time, she would have been drooling over the sugary contents and asking for
seconds. With her wedding just a month away she had to be strict about her diet. If she binged on
sweets, she wouldn’t fit into the dress she had spent a small fortune on. Tina seemed to be
pleased with her sacrifice of eating a small bite of the doughnut.
“I am not even going to ask why you know the caloric content of a doughnut. I am also
going to ignore the fact that you are dismissing my life crisis. I am closer to thirty today than I
was yesterday. While you are living in princess fairytale land with the perfect fiancé, moving
your perfect little boxes into your perfect little house, I am here with my two cats and my
doughnuts. If you get to rub your happiness in everyone’s face with that shiny rock, I get to
shove mine in your face,” she smirked and pushed the doughnut back.
Pondering for a moment, Amelia took another bite of her gluttonous treat and groaned
around the sugary bite. “Fine, you win this round. I will just run another lap at the gym tonight.”
“There’s my best friend. God, I thought I had lost you to the land of the boring married
women.”
Laughing now, Amelia rolled her own eyes and pushed back her brown veil of hair.
“Never! I couldn’t make it into the land of the boring housewives even if I tried. I think they
would kick me out anyways. Speaking of, the wedding planner needs me to come by the office to
look at some linens and centerpieces. Drinks are on me if you come,” Amelia said hopefully.
Tina was still a little bitter about not being chosen as the maid of honor. Despite the
multiple attempts to explain the politics of the whole situation, she wouldn’t let Amelia live it
down. She made her work for any maid of honor duty she performed. “Shouldn’t Bethany be
going with you to that? That is her duty after all.” Tina folded her arms over her chest and raised
a penciled in brow.
Amelia sighed and shook her head. “She has horrible taste for starters, and I also do not
want to suffer through hours of dealing with Brian’s sister. You know it is only a title and you
are far more important to me than she is. Please?” she pouted out her lip and batted her
eyelashes. “We can go to happy hour at Benny’s. All the cheese sticks and margaritas you can
consume. I’ll even pay your Uber.”
Tina feigned consideration with her hand on her chin. She hummed her pink lips and
drummed her fingers against her flesh. “I suppose I could go. Cheese sticks and tequila are my
two favorite things.” Amelia grinned broadly and pushed her paperwork together.
“Grab your stuff, let’s get out of here then.” They would be leaving work a little early,
but they wouldn’t really be missed at all. After Tina grabbed her bag they made their way to
Amelia’s car. She wouldn’t be drinking too much. Unlike Tina, she could not function the
morning after drinking all night.
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