I turn on my heel, but he catches up and tugs on my arm.
“Lia, wait.”
I snatch my arm away and say, “And what’s the big deal anyway? Why now? Why do you have to find someone now? Just because I’m getting married, you think you need to get married too?”
“No,” he says, a furrow in his brow.
“Then why is this a thing right now? Why are you making this an issue? I’ve dated other guys. Yes, not many, but I’ve had boyfriends. Why is this so different?”
“I don’t know,” he says, looking distraught.
Maybe an hour ago, I would have sat him down and talked through his feelings with him, but not now, not this time. My fiancé, who wants to spend time with me and do something I love, is in my apartment waiting for me. Breaker is being ridiculous and thoughtless. He can stew in his own vomit for a while.
“Maybe that’s something you need to figure out.” I head toward his front door.
“Lia, I’m sorry, okay?”
“No, not okay.” I turn around again. “This is not how we treat each other. I don’t know what’s going through your head right now, what could possess you to have these thoughts and drastic ideas of pushing me toward Brian when I don’t need pushing, but I will tell you one thing. It’s going to drive a wedge between us. If that’s what you want, then job well done.” I reach the front door and say, “And don’t worry about Friday. It’s just looking for a dress, so I won’t need your help with that.” And then I leave his apartment where I pause in the hallway, in the space between my door and his, and I sink down to the ground where I quietly cry. What the hell is happening to us?
“Uh, I don’t know . . . dishwasher?” Brian asks as I flop back on the couch.
“How could you possibly get dishwasher from the clue shark?”
“I don’t know,” Brian says, frustrated. “This game makes no sense.”
“How does it not make sense? You offer a clue to your partner, and then they try to guess, simple as that.”
“But your clues aren’t helping.”
“I gave you three clues. Mouth, dentist, and shark.”
“Yeah, great clues. How the hell do those even go together?” he asks.
“Teeth!” I shout. “My God, Brian, the password is teeth! You should have gotten it with dentist.”
“Well, this is my first time playing. I’m sorry I’m not as good as Breaker. Maybe if you weren’t shoving all this godforsaken sugar down my throat, I would have been able to guess.”
“I wasn’t comparing you to Breaker,” I say through clenched teeth.
“You didn’t have to. I could see it written all over your face.”
“Great assumption,” I say as I offer him a thumbs up and then stand from the couch. “Because apparently, you know exactly what’s going on in my head, besides what I’m really thinking about, and what I’m really thinking about is freaking TEETH! God,” I shout, utterly frustrated. “I’m going to bed. Feel free to go home if you’d like.”
I leave the living room and head straight for my bedroom and bathroom, where I close the door. Since I’m already in my pajamas, I go to the sink and splash water on my face. I dry my face and then stare into the mirror as tears fill my eyes.
I don’t have a moment to blot them away before Brian opens the bathroom door and leans against the counter.
“I’m sorry, Lia.”
I can’t look at him. I’ll cry.
But I can’t move either.
I feel paralyzed.
Nothing seems to be going right.
Breaker is trying to remove me from his life.
Brian is an idiot and doesn’t understand a simple clue like dentist.
I’ve lit a veil on fire, flicked blood on my future mother-in-law, and punched her in the boob.
The wedding planning is going at lightning speed despite the accidents.
I’m embarrassing myself left and right.
I got in a huge fight with my best friend, something I don’t do very often.
And the worst part of it all is that I have no one to turn to.
No one.
I grip the counter even tighter as my body sways, the pressure I’ve been carrying mounting on my shoulders as my breathing picks up.
“Hey, are you okay?” Brian asks as he steps up closer.
“N-No,” I mutter right before my legs give out on me.
Brian quickly scoops me up, my name a frightened plea as he carries me to the bed.
“Jesus, what’s going on?” he asks as he brushes his hand over my forehead. “You’re pale. Lia, what’s happening? Do you want me to call for help?”