Save Me From MyselfBy: Stacey Mosteller
To the boys who hold my heart
Stephen, AJ & Jakob
And to my husband
for always encouraging me to follow my dreams.
Standing at the doorway of my fiancé’s bedroom, I can’t even bring myself to really be surprised. Aria tried to warn me that this was happening, and I wouldn’t listen to her. I didn’t want to listen. Really, I guess I didn’t want to believe that after everything that has happened over the last ten months that he would do something like this to me. Was “the accident” as he refers to it not enough of a blow? Now, I have to deal with this too?
Without saying a word, I back out of his bedroom and pull the door closed. Does it make me a coward that I didn’t interrupt him and the buxom blonde on top of him? Even if it does, I’m past the point of even giving a damn. I’ve been numb for months now. Numb to everything, everyone, and every situation.
Making my way silently through his apartment, I pick up the things that mean the most to me. I grab the blanket my father’s mother made for me when I was younger - it always made more sense for it to be here, I spent most of my time at this apartment once we were engaged. Stopping in the kitchen, I pick up the “Journalists do it on deadline” mug that Aria got me for my birthday last year, and after grabbing a few more things, I realize the noise in the bedroom has quieted. Knowing I don’t have long before someone interrupts me, or just finds me and makes me have to deal with this, I practically sprint for the door.
Shutting the door to the upscale Manhattan apartment that I hate but my mother pays for, I lean my head back against the door and close my eyes. I just want to go back and restart this god-awful day. The past year has been full of nothing but a few ups, lots of downs, and heartaches that are guaranteed to break a person just by having to experience one of them. Me? I’m so lucky I get to experience them all one after the other like a row of dominos. I never used to understand why people would decide they didn’t want to go on living, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned this year, it’s that that whole “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle” platitude thrown around by everyone who’s never been through what you have, is a load of crap. Because, if that’s the case, he obviously thinks I’m stronger than I am. Either that, or he has way more faith in me than he should.
Once I’ve calmed my breathing, I head into the living room and sit down on the couch to call my sister. I’m sure she’s been expecting this phone call since she left my apartment earlier this afternoon. Aria answers the phone before the first ring even finishes, “Lyric? Are you okay?”
“How long have you known what he was doing?” There should be some kind of anger in my voice, right? It shouldn’t sound so flat, so lifeless.
My sister sighs, and her next words come fast, like she’s trying to reassure me. “I saw them at a cafe on Lexington this morning. I swear Lyric, that’s the first time I saw anything.” Well, at least my sister didn’t keep the secret. She was over here at lunchtime to tell me about it. “I’m guessing you confronted him then?”
“No A, I didn’t get the chance to confront him.” Not that I’m sure I would have anyway. “I went over to his apartment and when I walked in, I could hear them in the bedroom. After I saw it for myself, I took some of my stuff back and left.”
“Seriously, Lyric? You didn’t do or say anything? You didn’t rip him a new one, or beat her ass? You just saw them and left?!?” She sounds really confused, but I don’t know how to explain my reaction to her. I know the normal response to finding your fiancé in bed with another woman is not to calmly walk out and leave, but that’s exactly what happened.
“Why would I fight her? For all I know, she knows nothing about me.” I sound like I’m speaking to someone who isn’t all there. I don’t get how this is the girl’s fault. Matt’s the one at fault in this situation.
Aria lets out a frustrated groan, making me roll my eyes, “Do I need to send Edward and Phillip to talk to him?”