Something Blue - Emily Giffin [5]
He looked up at me, his expression a blend of annoyance and bemusement. "What's wrong now?" he said.
I resented his use of the word now, implying that I am always having a crisis. I couldn't help what had just happened to me. I told him the whole story, sparing no detail. I wanted outrage from my new beau. Or at least shock. But no matter how much I tried to whip him into my same frenzied state, he'd fire back with these two points: How can you be mad when we did the same thing to them? And, Don't we want our friends to be as happy as we are?
I told him that our guilt was beside the point and, HELL NO, WE DON'T WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY!
Marcus kept strumming his guitar and smirking.
"What's so funny?" I asked, exasperated. "Nothing is funny about this situation!"
"Well maybe not ha-ha funny, but ironic funny."
"There is nothing even remotely funny about this, Marcus! And stop playing that thing!"
Marcus ran his thumb across the strings one final time before putting his guitar in its case. Then he sat cross-legged, gripping the toes of his dirty sneakers, as he said again, "I just don't see how you can be so outraged when we did the same thing—"
"It's not the same thing at all!" I said, dropping to the cool floor. "See, I may have cheated on Dex with you. But I didn't do anything to Rachel."
"Well," he said. "She and I did date for a minute. We had potential before you came along."
"You went on a few lousy dates whereas I was engaged to Dex. What kind of person hooks up with her friend's fiance?"
He crossed his arms and gave me a knowing look. "Darcy."
"What?"
"You're looking at one. Remember? I was one of Dexter's groomsmen? Ring a bell?"
I sniffed. True, Marcus and Dex had been college buddies, friends for years. But it just wasn't a comparable situation. "It's not the same. Female friendships are more sacred; my relationship with Rachel has been lifelong. She was my very best friend in the world, and you were, like, the very last one stuck in the groomsman lineup. Dex probably wouldn't even have picked you except that he needed a fifth person to go with my five girls."
"Gee. I'm touched."
I ignored his sarcasm, and said, "Besides, you never painted yourself as a saint like she did."
"You're right about that. I'm no saint."
"You just don't go there with your best girlfriend's fiance. Or ex-fiance. Period. Ever. Even if a gazillion years elapsed, you still can't go there. And you certainly don't hop in bed with him one day after the breakup." Then I hurled more questions his way: Did he think it was a one-time thing? Were they beginning a relationship? Could they actually fall in love? Would they ever last?
To which Marcus shrugged and answered with some variation of: I don't know and I don't care.
To which I yelled: Guess! Care! Soothe me!
Finally, he caved, patting my arm and responding satisfyingly to my leading questions. He agreed that it was likely a one-time thing with Rachel and Dex. That Dex went over to Rachel's because he was upset. That being with Rachel was the closest thing to me. And as for Rachel, she just wanted to throw a bone to a broken man.
"Okay. So what do you think I should do now?" I asked.
"Nothing you can do," Marcus said, reaching over to open a pizza box resting near his guitar case. "It's cold, but help yourself."
"As if I could eat now!" I exhaled dramatically and did a spread eagle on the floor. "The way I see it is, I have two options: murder and/or suicide… It would be pretty easy to kill them, you know?"
I wanted him to gasp at my suggestion, but much to my constant disappointment, he was never too shocked by my words. He simply pulled a slice of pizza from the box, folded it in half, and crammed it in his mouth. He chewed for a moment, and with his mouth still full, he pointed out that I would be the prime and only suspect. "You'd wind up at a female corrections facility in upstate New York. With a mullet. I can see you now slopping out gruel with your mullet flapping in the prison yard breeze."
I thought about this and decided that I'd vastly prefer my own death