The Right Thing to Do
By SteveThere was a time where I fancied myself as some kind of writer-like guy. You know, like fiction writing stuff. I finished off a half-dozen or so short stories—a form I’m particularly fond of—and posted them on my main Manic Pop Thrills website.
I yanked them a while back for some inexplicable reason, so I figured I’d resurrect them for “Phiction Phriday.” They’re not really all that great, but I want to make sure I don’t lose the damn things if a hard drive explodes or something.
So, without further ado, here’s “The Right Thing to Do.” Warning: Contains scenes of sexual content and bad language, and may remind people of “chick lit.” Reader discretion is advised.
- - - -
The Right Thing to Do
It finally hit Sarah as she slowly made her way to the door of his apartment; everything she was going to say and do today would be a lie.
She’d already lived the entire day in her head multiple times. With little or no variation, the events would play out like this: She would press the nondescript button in the entryway and watch him walk down the stairs to greet her. He would smile as he let her in. She would treat him the same way he treated her, as if they were still each other’s favorite person in the world. They would make small talk, she’d ask how work was going, he’d ask her about school, and later that day when she would lie down with him on his bed and let him fuck her one last time, she would think, This is the last time I’m doing this. Under no uncertain terms would there be any hint of ambiguity, no more ifs and maybes. Just absolutes. It has to end. It’s the right thing to do.
She paused before pressing the buzzer and turned to watch Katie’s Volvo merge into traffic. Her best friend was strangely unsympathetic during the drive to his apartment, as if she didn’t fully understand the situation.
“God, I am so not looking forward to this,” she’d said as she entered Katie’s car that morning. “It’s going to be so hard to do.”
“Look. You should have done this weeks ago.” Katie dramatically waved her cigarette in the air as if to hammer home her point with tar and nicotine.
“I tried, I really tried.” She slumped against the window as they left Middlebury in the rear-view mirror. The thought of opening the car door and launching herself onto the pavement briefly crossed her mind. She didn’t even flinch.
“I know you did.” Katie swerved to avoid a dead animal with the casual disregard of drivers who cause accidents but somehow manage to avoid having any of their own. “But every time you brought up the subject he managed to convince you to stay with him. Right?”
“He always redirects the conversations.”
“He doesn’t want to deal with this.”
“It’s not like that, it’s…”
“He knows something’s wrong.”
“I know, I know.”
“So it’s not like he’s totally innocent.”
“I know, but…”
“No buts. You know you have to do this.”
“God, I really don’t want to do it. He…”
“Fuck that. Look, he’s a big boy. He can handle it.”
“You don’t know him like I do, Katie.” She started feeling sick.
“Motherfucking A.” A scowl crossed Katie’s round face. “I don’t want so sound like a bitch, but you need to be a little selfish here and start thinking about yourself.” She violently stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray. “You’re always sticking around with people, trying to find the good in them, not cutting them loose even when they’ve treated you like shit.”
“But it’s not like that.”
“Yeah, so what? That’s not the point. You don’t love him, right?” She changed lanes. “It’s not fair of you to stay with him… it’s just going to get worse.”
Damn Psychology majors, she thought, they think they have all the answers. And they usually do.
- - - -
They passed through anonymous towns with anonymous names: New Haven. Vergennes. Ferrisburg. North Ferrisburg. Charlotte. Shelburne.
“God, I’ve really fucked this up, haven’t I?” Sarah said as she lit a cigarette.
“You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“He treats me so well. I remember this one time…”
“Stop it, just stop it,” Katie interrupted as she slowed for a signal. “Look, you know this… r e l a t i o n s h i p.” She drew out the word in elongated syllables. “This relationship, if you can call it that, isn’t working. You know you want out. You tell me that every night the two of you are apart, and then when you’re together you think everything will be fine. You know this is right. You know it.”
Sarah sighed.
“I’m afraid of how he’ll react. I really do care about him.”
“I know you care. You care too much. God, you have to think about what it’s doing to you, and what it’ll do to him if you continue to drag it out.”
“I know, I know.”
Sarah turned away from Katie and stared out the window at the large brick building looming ominously in front of her. His apartment. Katie pulled up in front and put the car in park.
“Be strong,” Katie said, smiling weakly. “It’s the right thing to do.”
- - - -
He was nearly running as he greeted her at the door, clad in the same blue long-sleeved shirt and faded Levi’s he’d worn the first night they met. She wondered if that was intentional. She also wondered why she still remembered his clothes so vividly from that night over a year ago.
“Hey you,” she said smiling.
“I’m so glad you came up today.” They hugged. “I miss you so much.”
“We need to talk.”
“Here, let me grab your stuff.” He picked up her backpack.
She slowly walked up the stairs. He turned and smiled at her. She reciprocated.
As she walked into the apartment, everything seemed too perfect. It smelled hospital clean. Every piece of furniture was lined up a little too perfectly, which was a far cry from the slightly disheveled look he normally cultivated. The apartment was otherwise the same as it always had been; everything was black and trying a little too hard to look stylish and sophisticated. Unfortunately, it was fighting a losing battle with the reprehensible yellow mock-shag carpet. He liked it because it was kitschy.
He put her backpack on the floor as she made a beeline for the bathroom.
“Do you want to talk now?” he said, sitting down on the futon.
“Gimme a minute, not just yet.” She was sweating. “Can I use your shower?”
“Of course you can. You don’t need to ask.”
“The maintenance guys were working on the showers in the dorm today.”
“No problem.” He started walking toward the bathroom, opening the door and pointing toward the shower. “I’ve got clean towels on the rack, and there’s still some of your shampoo left.”
“OK, I’ll be a few minutes.” She grabbed a towel and her backpack and went into his bedroom to undress. She shut the door behind her.
“Do you want to watch a movie tonight?” he said loud enough for her to hear.
“Yeah, sure, that sounds great.”
“We can watch the rest of Grosse Pointe Blank,” he said laughing. “We didn’t quite make it all the way through it last time we watched it.”
“Whatever you want…”
“OK, Grosse Pointe Blank it is.” He pulled the DVD from the rack and placed it in the player. He walked into the kitchen and poured a glass of water.
She wrapped the towel around her body and moved quickly into the bathroom. She turned on the water, and once it reached a proper temperature, climbed into the shower. A few seconds later, she heard a knock on the door.
“I’m in the shower, what do you want?” she said.
He cracked the door slightly. “Do you want anything to drink? I’ve got beer, Coke, some iced tea?”
“No, I’m fine, thank you.”
“OK. You don’t need any help in there, do you?” He gave a mock laugh.
“Ha ha, very funny.”
He shut the door.
She ran water through her hair and picked up the bottle of Herbal Essence and held it in her hands, staring at the label. Even through the shower curtain she could make out the box of her maxi pads on the shelf.
She started to cry; at first it was a sprinkling of tears but now it was turning into a full-blown downpour. She slumped down in the back of the shower, trying to remain as quiet as possible. She gathered herself back up and turned off the water.
She opened the bathroom door and walked into the bedroom. He was lying on the bed reading a magazine.
“Do you remember how you described yourself to me before we met for the first time?”
“No, but I bet you’re going to tell me.”
“You said you usually wore long skirts, that you had shoulder-length cinnamon colored hair, big green eyes, and big boobs.”
Sarah laughed.
“Get out of here,” she said as a smile crossed her face. “I’ve got to change.”
“Until you arrived that night, I was staring at every woman’s chest.”
She laughed again. “Oh, and I suppose that’s something you don’t normally do.”
“I miss that laugh.”
He was staring at her. She turned around.
“I’ll let you change.” He got up off the bed and brushed against her arm. She closed her eyes as he touched her. He turned and put his arms around her. They swayed slowly in unison.
“I love you so much,” he whispered to her.
He moved the wet, stringy hair from her neck and kissed the pale white flesh underneath. “I love your neck.”
She moaned quietly.
He slipped his hand inside the towel and rubbed her stomach. “I love your belly.”
“I love it when you rub my belly,” she said as she closed her eyes.
“I love your breasts,” he said as he started rubbing her breasts.
“I love it when….” Her voice trailed off.
“I want you.”
She dropped the towel to the floor and he started to undress. They made their way to the bed and he kissed her all over her face. He gathered up her wet hair into little bunches and pressed them against her face like flowers. “I love you so much.”
“I know you do, I know you do,” she said as she turned her head to the side and closed her eyes.
- - - -
It was almost midnight and the night was oddly calm and quiet. The moon illuminated their naked bodies as they lay motionless on the bed. They were both half asleep, in the loving calm of each other’s arms.
“We need to talk,” she said without turning over.
“I’m sorry, we should have done this earlier,” he said wearily as he kissed her on the neck. “Do you want something to drink?”
She wanted to tell him she never should have fucked him tonight, that she never should have let this relationship continue, that she never should have told him she loved him. “Water would be great. Thank you.”
He kissed her on the forehead, got up out of the bed, slipped on a pair of underwear and made his way toward the kitchen. He returned with two glasses. “Sorry it’s not cold…”
She was lying on the bed and sobbing audibly.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I never should have done this.”
“What are you sorry for?” He waited for a response. “Look at me. What’s wrong?”
She turned toward him and tried to put on her most serious face. “I can’t do this.”
“Do what?” He could see tears in her eyes; she looked sadly beautiful.
“This. This relationship. I can’t do this anymore.”
“We can make it work.”
“I can’t do this right now.”
“I know, I know,” he said calmly. “It’s OK.”
“It’s not OK.”
“What’s wrong?”
She got up off the bed, turned on the light and caught a glimpse of her naked body in the full-length mirror near the door of his bedroom. She’d gained some weight since they’d broken up. She looked over her body as she put on her panties, catching a glimpse at the cellulite that had formed on the back of her legs. As she put on her bra she noticed the stretch marks on her breasts.
“Don’t look at me,” she said as she picked up her bra.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t like you looking at me naked.”
“I love your body.”
“God, I look like shit. I’m so fucking gross.”
“I think you’re beautiful.”
She wasn’t listening; she stared at herself in the mirror. He was watching her out of the corner of his eye. She pulled on her pants, grabbed her shirt and walked out of the room.
“Where are you going?” he said as he started to get dressed.
“I need a cigarette” she said, her voice wavering.
“We need to talk about this,” he said as he hopped up and down while pulling on his pants. He sat down and patted the bed. “C’mon on, sit down.”
“I need a fucking cigarette!”
Her hands were shaking. She rummaged around in her backpack and found her Parliaments. “Do you have any matches?”
He stared at the ceiling.
“You never listen to me.”
“What?”
“Matches. Do you have any matches?”
“I’m sorry, I was thinking. I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Matches,” she said with considerable annoyance. “Do you have any matches?”
“In the kitchen. Top drawer directly on your left.”
She walked into the kitchen and rummaged through three drawers before she found a book.
“Can I use the phone for a second? Local call.”
“Of course you can. You don’t need to….” She picked up the phone before he finished his sentence. He could hear the phone beeping as she dialed but the conversation was carried out in hushed tones. He quietly repeated it. “You don’t need to ask.”
The phone landed on the floor with a thud.
“I’m going outside to smoke,” she said as she moved toward the front door.
He walked out of the bedroom.
“Do you want some company,” he said as she stood in the open doorway.
“If you want to come down.”
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
She grabbed her backpack from the corner of the living room, left the apartment, and walked down the back stairs of the apartment building toward the parking lot.
- - - -
She stood by his car and pulled out another cigarette. A moth made a kamikaze run toward the single light bulb that was barely illuminating the entire lot. The events of the evening rattled around in her head. She reached down and lightly touched her pelvis; she could still feel the pressure of his body on hers. Everything felt so right; their bodies were in perfect synch with each other’s.
“What are you thinking about,” he’d asked earlier, breathing heavily as beads of sweat formed on his forehead.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
“Does it bother you?”
“No. Does it bother you?”
“No.”
They began to kiss, slowly at first but with a gradual increase in frequency and intensity. They anticipated each other’s movements; their mouths mirroring the desire they felt throughout their bodies. He ran his hands along her body, feeling the heat of her thighs, of her breasts, of the little bulge in her belly, of the exquisite features of her face. They instinctively found the spots that provided the most pleasure; he kissed her on the neck, she nibbled on his ear.
Everything was exactly as it was before. Everything was perfect.
- - - -
He came out of the apartment. “Sorry, I couldn’t find my keys.”
She took a final drag from her cigarette and stomped it into the ground.
“OK, let’s talk,” he said as he buried his hands into his pockets. “Look, before we start, I just want to say one thing.”
“Go ahead.”
“Before I met you I thought I was doing OK, I thought I was happy. I enjoyed work, and I got to meet enough new people to keep me occupied. But…” he paused, seemingly rummaging through his pockets for the rest of the words needed to complete this particular sentence. “But I’ve never been happier in my life than I am when I’m with you. You… I’m not even sure I can explain it…”
“I can’t be the thing that makes you happy in your life,” she interrupted.
“I know, I know.”
“It’s too much pressure.”
“I’m sorry, so sorry…”
“Quick fucking saying your sorry…” she said, holding back tears. “Quit being so fucking apologetic all the time.”
“I’m sorry…”
They both laughed.
“I just love you so much,” he said.
She paused, and lit another cigarette.
“You know….” Her voice flattened out. “You don’t really love me.”
“Is that right?” He smiled.
She looked into his eyes. “I mean it. You don’t love really love me.”
“Right…”
“I’m serious,” she said with a slight tinge of anger. “You can’t love me.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
She paused for a minute, collecting the thoughts that were barreling through her head.
“We’re just at different points of our lives right now,” she said.
“What does that have to do with me loving you?”
She paused, and looked back at the ground. “I don’t want this to turn into a fight.”
She looked around awkwardly, as if she’d find the answer hovering somewhere in midair. She watched the smoke dissipate in the air around her cigarette. She looked at the nicotine stains on her fingers, at the dirt under her fingernail.
“This is it,” she said without looking up. “It’s over. For good.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. I’m sorry but we need to end this. Now.” She snuffed out her cigarette.
“Why… how…”
“It’s not about you,” she said, reaching for another cigarette. Her hands were shaking.
“How can you say that?” he whispered. “You’re fucking breaking up with me.”
“This is about me, about who I am.”
“That’s such bullshit,” he said, the volume of his voice increasing with each word. “It’s one of those things we tell someone to spare their feelings.”
“It’s the truth…”
“Bullshit,” he yelled. “Tell me how I can’t take this to mean I’m somehow not good enough for you, that I’m not good looking enough, that I’m not smart enough, that I’m not funny enough, that I’m not a good enough fuck…”
She laughed nervously. “You know that’s not what it is.”
“Then what is it? Just tell me.”
She looked right at him. “You know, not everything is about you,” she said angrily. “We both knew this wouldn’t work from day one.”
“Oh right,” he said as he turned to the side.
“You said it yourself.”
“It was working, Sarah. It was working.”
“No it wasn’t. It was never working. We’re too different, way too different.”
He stood up straight, grabbed her shoulders and stared into her eyes. “I want to wake up every morning for the rest of my life and look at your face on the pillow next to mine.”
She turned her head away. “That can’t happen. That won’t happen.”
“Just tell me you don’t love me, then.”
“Don’t make me say that.”
“Just quit fucking with me,” he yelled as his grip on her shoulders tightened. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He placed his hands softly on her face and turned it toward him. “If you love me,” he said quietly as he stared into her eyes, “you won’t want to end this.”
“Don’t make me say it.”
“You can’t say it because you don’t really believe it…”
“I don’t love you.”
A car pulled into the parking lot.
“There. I’ve said it in the clearest of terms,” she stared intently at the arriving car. “I didn’t want to have to say it, and I feel bad for saying it, but I can’t let you continue thinking that there will be a day when I’ll come back to you, because there will not.”
He slumped against the car and buried his head in his hands.
“I appreciate so much everything you have done for me, every generous and sweet gesture of your affection,” she started to cry as she kneeled down next to him. “But I can’t accept them any more. This all must come to an end.”
“I gave you everything because I loved you.”
“I know that. I also know that somewhere out there there’s a woman who deserves it more than I.”
“Oh that’s just fucking great.” He started laughing. “Someone deserves me more than you.” She could see his eyes were full of anger and hurt, and his face reddened. “Why don’t you deserve me?”
“I can’t explain why I don’t love you.” She took a drag from her cigarette as she stood up. “I’m sorry I ever dragged you into this and caused you pain, but I refuse to spend one more day lying to myself or to you. There is no graceful way to end something like this, but please recognize that this is in fact an end. You are a wonderful and beautiful person, but it is not my job to convince you of that.”
“Yeah, I’m fucking great. You’re dumping me, but I’m wonderful.”
“Don’t say that. You know what I mean. This isn’t easy for me.” She took a step back and tried to regain her momentum. “I apologize for all the fantasies and childish dreams I allowed myself to create with you because something inside of me knew all along that nothing would ever happen between us. I pretended I was in love, because I liked the way it made me feel, and I liked the way you made me feel. I’m just now realizing all of this, and I take full responsibility for the pain it’s caused you. Please know that the reason you and I are not together has nothing to do with anything you did. It’s about who I am and who I want to be.”
“Wait a minute,” he said as he stood up. “You… lied to me?”
She looked directly into his eyes. “You know I could never lie to you.”
“You’re telling me you never loved me.”
She paused, choking back more tears. “I was lying to myself.”
“But your lying to yourself constituted a lie to me.” He paused, and turned away from her. “Goddamn you. Goddamn you.”
Katie’s Volvo pulled into the parking lot.
“I never lied to you.” She picked up her backpack and started to walk toward Katie’s car. “I could never lie to you.”
“You did, you lied to me.” He started to follow her. “Do you want me to hate you, is that what you want? Will that make things easier for you?”
“I’m sorry,” she said as she turned toward him and got into the car. “I’m really sorry.”
As they merged into traffic, Sarah lit a cigarette and glanced back at the apartment as it receded into the distance. It was the right thing to do, she thought to herself. Definitely the right thing to do.