I was glad Ryan was still in Connecticut for the rest of the week. After hearing everything Adam had said, I knew if I saw him before I could process it, that there would be a shit-show. I probably would have gotten fired for things I wanted to say to him.

It was Saturday now, and the first full weekend where I didn't have work to do. I also realized that it had been practically a whole week since I'd talked to Eric. Minus the day I went to see him at his office.

Sasha wanted to know if she should reach out to him for me. Especially if he planned to end us and call off the wedding. I told her it was probably better if Becca went instead. Seeing as they had the better friendship of the two.

Becca was reluctant about getting involved at first, but as always, Sasha worked her magic on her wife, and Becca called him. I was jealous when I heard her talking and even laughing with him. Wishing it was me he was talking and laughing with instead.

He agreed to meet her for drinks later that night. As long as she came alone. He didn't want Sasha or me there. Sasha pretended to be offended, but then followed up with placing her hands together and thanking God she didn't have to go. She figured she'd make matters worse anyway by trying to defend me.

While Becca was gone, Sasha and I spent the evening eating popcorn and binge-watching the latest season of 'The Bachelorette.' At first, it made me uncomfortable as it felt almost too close to home in my real life. Then Sasha found a way to make it entertaining.

"I think everyone should have relationships like this!" She pointed at the screen as the bachelorette left one date to go on the next. "I mean, why can't we all have multiple intense romances with multiple partners at the same time? And they all know about it without throwing a hissy-fit. It would make everyone's love life with their final partner that much stronger."

I grabbed a handful of kernels from the bowl that sat between Sasha and me. "Yeah. But I wonder how many of them regret their final decision? I mean, do they go for the attractive, reliable one who their parents adore? Or do they go for the sexy one that makes their mind dizzy from living in the moment and hope they'll be there to catch them when they fall?"

"Too bad there isn't someone in between the two. Someone sexy, yet reliable, but still makes you dizzy from also living in the moment." Sasha crunched down on an unpopped kernel.

"If only," I sighed.

We fell into a silence as we watched the scene cut to where the bachelorette was handing out roses to four out of the five men that stood before her. I paid particular attention to what the departing bachelor had to say when he didn't get picked. "I don't know where I went wrong. I did all the right things..." he sits there staring at the camera but looking lost in his mind. "It just sucks that I gave her my heart and let her stomp all over it. I don't know if I'll ever get over this."

I started crying at his words. Sasha moved the bowl of popcorn to the other side of her and scooted closer to wrap an arm around me. Letting me cry while still paying attention to the show. I loved that she just let me cry and that she didn't try to console me. Another reason why I asked her to be my matron-of-honor.

I pulled back with attention, as Sasha and I heard the front door unlock, and watched Becca step in. I was eager to hear how her night with Eric went and what the report was but tried to play it cool.

The first thing she saw was the show we were watching. "I am so glad I don't have to watch this with you, babe."

She greeted Sasha with a quick peck on the lips, then reached her hand down and took a piece of popcorn from the bowl.

"You're welcome," Sasha mocked.

We both watched Becca remove her coat, hang it up, and then proceeded to remove her shoes, before finally relaxing on the couch, snuggling close to Sasha. I think the wait was killing us both.

"So, how was your night?" Sasha asked, trying to sound as casual about the question as possible.

Becca was looking at the TV, then looked at Sasha. "Hmm? Oh, it was nice. We had a good time." I don't know who glared harder at Becca at that moment. She just looked at us with a straight face. The longer she looked at Sasha, the more she started breaking into a smile, then a light laugh. "Okay fine. I'll give you more details."

"Thank you," I said with a sigh.

"Vicky, of course, Eric is still beyond pissed and heartbroken about everything. But he is willing to meet you. Tomorrow. At the apartment, so you guys can talk things out."

"Talk things out? What does that mean? Will he give me a second chance? Is he going to have us call off the wedding?"

"Fuck!" Sasha threw her arms in the air, almost smacking Becca and me in the face as they shot up. "If he does that, then he can fucking send all the canceled wedding letters to the guests himself."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm serious!" Sasha stood up, almost knocking the bowl of popcorn off the couch. "If that asshole is just going to give up after one fuck up. Okay, a month-long fuck up. Then he can do the honors of writing all the guests to let them know. I am not sealing or stamping one more envelope. Do you hear me!?"

I laughed harder as Sasha dramatized everything she was saying. Even if she was calling me out on some things, which of course, were true, the way she did it was comical. "Don't worry, Sasha. I'll just send everyone an email instead."

"What?" Sasha stared at me, intently. "Are you saying we could have sent the initial invitations by email this whole time?"

Becca joined me in laughing this time.

***********

My nerves were driving me crazy as I walked into my apartment building and got onto the elevator.

I spent the day preparing myself for what I was going to say to Eric. I rehearsed different approaches, trying to anticipate how he'd react to each one. All but maybe a handful of scenarios ended in him kicking me out for good. I knew the odds were low, but I was grateful he was at least giving us a chance to clear the air, wherever it may lead.

I wanted to look cute for Eric but still keep it casual. Plus, I also wanted to wear something that could effortlessly come off if we miraculously had makeup sex too. Yes, that was one of the good scenarios that had played out in my head. 

With that in mind, I borrowed one of Sasha's high waist, red and black plaid printed, a-line long skirt. I wore a solid red long-sleeved top that matched the shade of red in the skirt. Sasha and Becca mentioned how the colors made my eyes shine and skin glow, even though my tan from Naples was practically non-existent again.

I checked my makeup in my pocket-sized mirror once more, just as the elevator arrived at my floor. I snapped it shut and threw it back in my bag as the doors slid open.

As I approached the front door and stood there, my heart started racing again, just as it had before. I quietly rehearsed how I'd greet him before I finally slammed the knocker against it a few times.

I heard rustling on the other side, then chains and locks moving, followed quickly by Eric answering the door. I noticed instantly that his face was scruffier than usual. Almost like he hadn't shaved in a few days. Also, his hair was tousled, which was definitely not his typical style. Not that it wasn't attractive, but the Eric I knew was always mindful of his appearance and wanting to look his best. Even when he was relaxing at home. Did I break him?

"Uh, hi." I gave a light wave and tried to compose myself. Definitely not how I rehearsed it. But his look threw the originally rehearsed casual hello out the window.

He suddenly seemed self-conscious of his appearance and ran his fingers through his hair, in an attempt to make it look better. But it wasn't helping. "Hey."

"Can I come in?" I gestured my hand towards the inside of the apartment.

"Oh, of course, sorry." He opened the door wider and allowed me to walk in.

I scanned around my apartment, realizing how much I missed it. The couch that laid in front of me still held the last memory of Ryan on it. Hopefully, if one of my good scenarios played out, that memory would be quickly replaced with a new one.

The television was on a basketball game, which was pretty standard for a Sunday evening when Eric was home. I was glad some things hadn't changed in the short week I had been away.

He closed the door and walked back over to the couch. He sat down, right where Ryan had sat, grabbed his beer from the coffee table, and put his feet up where his beer had been. He knew I hated it when he put his feet on the coffee table. But I knew now wasn't the time to even consider bringing that up. Or was he testing me?

I removed my coat and hung it up in the closet. "Mind if I grab a beer?"

"Sure. Grab me another too." After a moment, he quickly added, "Please."

I couldn't help but smile at the back of his head. Even when he was mad at me, his manners were so ingrained into him, that he couldn't not ask the proper way.

I walked over to the kitchen area and saw the sink was filled with piles of dirty pots and dishes. It appeared the trash hadn't been taken out in days either. It was overflowing to the floor of the can that was lined with empty beer and pizza boxes. It took all of me to ignore the sight and continue to the fridge to pull out two bottles of beer.

I popped the tops off with the bottle opener on the counter, next to the coffee maker. Seeing it triggered a quick flashback to the morning when Eric slammed the coffee cup to the floor.

As I walked back towards Eric, I glanced quickly at the carpet and was glad to see that there wasn't a stain there. I was grateful he must have cleaned it up before he went spiraling into the unkempt man he currently was appearing to be. I handed him one of the beers as I sat down next to him.

"You look nice. Do you have a hot date later?" Eric jabbed, looking at me for a moment, then right back to the TV.

I winced. Luckily, his comment was actually in one of my rehearsals. So instead of making me annoyed, it actually made me smile. "I'm already on one," I said, trying to sound sly.

Eric grunted and took a swig of his beer, but didn't respond.

I swigged my drink too and tried to watch the game, but kept looking at Eric out of the corner of my eyes. I was thankful when it finally went to a commercial break. I took a deep breath and looked over at Eric. "So, do you think we can talk now?"

He sat there for a moment, appearing to be deeply interested in the commercial that was playing. Then he seemed to be coming to his senses somewhat, and he reached for the remote that laid next to his feet on the coffee table. He muted the sound and shifted slightly to look at me. "So talk."

Even though I had anticipated this as one of his responses, I wasn't really ready to be the first one to speak at the same time. I really wanted to know where his mind was, to gauge how I should approach it. But I knew I didn't have much of a choice in the way this conversation was going to go.

I took a few more swigs of my beer before placing it down on the coffee table. "I've been thinking things over and really trying to understand why I did what I did. And while it is the world's lamest excuse, I think I did it because it felt different and exciting. It's something I haven't felt between you and me for a long time.

"I don't know if it was the stresses of work or just us trying to adjust to being real adults now, but when we're together, I feel like we're just a couple going through the motions. I didn't feel like there was a real connection between us anymore. At least that's what I thought until we went to Naples.

"When we were there, I saw the Eric I met and fell in love with four years ago. The one that made me swoon even when you just texted me saying hello. That's the Eric I said yes to marrying."

He huffed, moved his feet from the coffee table to the couch, tucking one leg under the other, and turning to face me.

His eyes glared at me as he processed what he was about to say. "That is probably the most self-centered piece of shit I've ever heard, Vicky. And I am not going to apologize for not being exciting enough for you.

"We're not living in some fucking soap opera where I will always be sweeping you off your feet or fucking you in the back of a convertible by the beach.

"If you want that kind of love for the rest of your life, then you're engaged to the wrong guy.

"I'm the kind of guy who would have stood by you until the end. I'm the kind of guy who would have done anything to make you happy. The kind to not only let you succeed in your life goals and dreams but to encourage you to, instead of trying to hold you back."

"I know that," I said with tears starting to well up in my eyes.

"Do you? Do you know that, Vicky?" he demanded. Eric stood up, grabbed his beer, and chugged it. He looked back at the muted TV, that had since returned to the game. He picked up the remote and turned it off. "I don't think you realized how good you really had it with me."

I stood up to meet him at eye level. "I didn't. You're right. But now I see it, and I want us to work. I really do. I don't want to lose you, Eric."

I don't know if it was out of habit or not, but he reached out his hand to my face and brushed away a tear gently with his thumb. It felt so loving. 

"You don't want to lose me?" Though his touch was warm, his words were cold. "You know what's the most fucked up about this whole thing? Not once have you ever thought about how I would feel about what you've been doing. And even now, not once have you even considered how I feel. All you keep talking about is how you want things to be."

He stepped back and walked around the coffee table to the kitchen. He took one more swig of his drink before tossing the now empty bottle on top of his ever-growing trash pile. He opened the fridge and took another one.

"You're right," I said, really thinking about what he said. I hadn't considered him at all during any of it. "I do want to know how you're feeling. Please."

Eric was still standing in the kitchen area by the coffee maker.

He looked at me with a sad gaze. And with a somber tone, he held nothing back. "I feel like I was made a fool of. I should have known that you working for him was going to lead to nothing but problems.

"I thought I could trust you. Especially after telling you about our history, I didn't think you would have let him come between us so easily. I feel utterly betrayed, Vicky. Not only did you let him fuck you once, but you let it happen for a full month!

"Well, that's what you claim anyway. For all I know, you two could have been screwing around since you started working there."

I sat down on the bar-stool at the counter. I looked earnestly at Eric as the heat in my body rose with my anxiety building. "I swear on my life that's not true!"

"I saw the way he looked at you that night at the lounge, Vicky. I'm not blind," he barked. "But regardless, all I can tell you now is that I've lost all trust in you.

"And if you want this to work," he gestured his hand between himself and me. "Then you're the one that's going to have to work hard at rebuilding us. Because as far as I'm concerned, we are back at square one. I don't even know who you are anymore.

"And right now, you are not the woman I proposed to."

I gulped hard at his words. I don't even know when I had started crying again, but the tears were continually flowing now. 

I glanced down at my replacement engagement ring that still rested comfortably on my finger. My other hand, almost on its own, moved to clasp itself around it. I wiggled it slightly to loosen its grasp of the base of my finger, then it effortlessly slid up the rest of the way. Though the ring was small, I held it between both thumbs and pointer fingers. I stared at the shimmering diamonds realizing this was probably going to be the last time I would see it.

"You're right," I finally spoke with clarity, but kept my eyes on the ring, as I didn't want to see Eric's expression at what I was about to say. "I am not the woman you proposed to. But I don't think I've ever been her. And I don't know if I'll ever be her either. I just don't believe I can give you what you want.

"As much as I'd be willing to fight for you. I don't want to spend the rest of our lives together with you questioning anything I do. And while I know you don't think you would, you and I both know that we can't start off a marriage with this heavy of a thing on us. I want you to be happy. I want you to find a love that you deserve to have. Someone who will love you as much as you've loved me all these years."

This was the one scenario I didn't even contemplate. But it was the right one. I finally looked up at Eric and saw his eyes were glossy, and his cheeks were red. I smiled sadly at him. I extended my hand across the counter, holding the ring out for him to take. He just stared down at it, then back at me. "I don't want it," he quivered.

I nodded and placed the ring down on the counter in front of me. I stood up from the bar-stool and made my way over to the closet. Eric stood frozen in the kitchen, his eyes didn't leave the ring, as I placed on my coat. I walked back over to him and laid my hand on his dampened, scruffy cheek. I leaned in and kissed him.

It wasn't a kiss of love or pity. It was a goodbye kiss. He kissed me back and tried to bring me into him to make it last longer. But I pulled back and stared into his eyes with complete clarity. "Goodbye, Eric."

I turned and left the apartment without looking back.