Fairy Tale Fail

Chapter 5 - It's already ugly

Some people had one large group of friends, and that was all they needed. I, on the other hand, had many small circles of friends. High school friends, college blockmates, college orgmates, cousins, friends from my first job, the barkada from my current job. These groups all had different personalities – and sometimes I was in the mood for one group and not another.
   Restless Ellie became even more so in the weeks that followed the breakup. I made plans with all my friends. I went to so many dinners that month that I dipped into my Bangkok Fund, but I forgave myself because I was hurting and needed company.
   I wasn't sure how it happened too, but after those dinners all of my friends ended up hating Don. 
   Was it how I told the story? But I tried to tell it as objectively as I could. It was fair to question our relationship when there were fundamental things we didn't agree on. Talking about it on Holy Week, in church, was better than not talking about it at all.
   But they all reacted the same anyway.
   They called him a jerk, an ass, and other colorful terms. I told them that they didn't have to do that. No need for a breakup to turn ugly.
   "Ellie, a breakup is a breakup. He just decided that he didn't love you enough to accept you for who you are," my older sister, Gladys, said. "It's already ugly."
   The only group that wasn't as unanimous in its hatred of Don was, understandably, the office group. I understood how difficult this must have been for our friends. When Don and I were in the same place together post-breakup, we never talked. I especially felt irritable and on edge a lot, because I thought that Don was trying to provoke me by ignoring me as blatantly as possible.
   Friends later told me that he seemed especially paranoid about what he thought I said about him to other people. He told them not to believe me, that I was bitter and slightly obsessed with him, and that I had a hard time moving on.
   "Did you tell him?" I wailed to Charisse when she told me. "Did you tell him that all my friends have been itching to slap me because I've been trying to tell his side of the story to them as well as mine?"
   She shrugged. "I don't think he believes it. Do you have secret blackmail info on him, girl? He's so out to discredit you."
   That wasn't fair. I was losing my dignity little by little every time I defended him to a friend. (A friend who was on my side! They all thought I was nuts.) But I respected him and what we had. Too bad he didn't feel the same way.
   So I decided that I was not going to avoid him, whether he liked it or not. If he was talking trash about me to our common friends, then I had to somehow be there to save my own face. Or at least be given a chance to be heard. I showed up at dinners, and lunches out, and tried to have as much fun as I could in the same room without actually looking at him. It was exhausting.
   Finally, after weeks of this, Charisse invited me to coffee. We went to the Starbucks at the lobby of our building, and she treated me to a mocha frap. Uh oh. This was not going to be something I wanted to hear.
   She was one of the leaders that kept that group together, and as soon as she paid for my drink I knew that she wasn't acting as my friend right then, but everyone's friend.
   "Ellie," she said, and to her credit she looked really pained about it. "I need to talk to you about this whole Don thing."
   "Excuse me?" I said.
   "It's getting a bit tense. Look, we're all friends here. It's just tough on everyone that we can't all hang out anymore because we're afraid of how you're going to feel."
   "Me? Did you talk to Don too?"
   "I tried to," Charisse said, and I believed her. "And I'm sorry, but as far as he's concerned, you two are done. So I'm talking to you now."
   Ouch.
   That day, she pretty much told me this: That they couldn't handle our drama anymore. They weren't going to choose between us, but they didn't like how the group was splitting between people who were on Don's side and Ellie's side.
   When it got down to it, he was their friend first. If I wanted to stay with them, I was going to have to accept that.
  
***

It was at a party, three months after Don and I broke up, that I did something stupid. By that time I was feeling isolated and alone. Even my friends were sick of hearing about Don, and I complied by not talking about him or asking about him (much), but I couldn't help thinking about him.
   I hung out with our common friends less and less, but I still made a point to show up when I was invited somewhere. His treatment of me grew maddeningly unpredictable: one day we'd actually talk about a movie like decent people, and the next he'd mention right in front of me how he wanted to be introduced to some girl.
   By then I couldn't confide in Charisse anymore, because she had already given me The Talk. If I was uncomfortable, I didn't have to show up. She would understand.
   But I didn't want him to win.
   So I went to Don's boss' party. I barely knew the guy and didn't have to be there, but that was the kind of person I was at the time. I wanted to be there because everyone else would be there. Also, I had been watching Don's mood like they were weather forecasts. If he wandered over to my area, would he actually make eye contact? Would he say "hey"?
   At the party that night, he was in friendly mode. He asked about my family, my sisters, and I gave him an update that spanned months. It surprised both of us, I think, that we had gone from knowing everything about each other to being several months behind on everything. 
   A rum coke and a half for me later, and Don and I were laughing like we used to. While other party guests occupied the dining room and family room of his boss Ricky's house, we had retreated to the upstairs balcony, accessible from Ricky's daughter's bedroom. We were sitting on the floor, talking. Like old friends. Like pre-relationship Don and Ellie.
   Easy to forget what that was like. There was a time when he was fun, and liked to listen to me talk about what I did that day, and not pass judgment on me on things I should have done. It helped me loosen up again.  Our relationship – including the breakup, and the ugly words that got passed around after – was still the elephant in the room, but we both knew it, and we were both pretending it wasn't there.
   I didn't know if I imagined it at first, but it was like he was moving closer to me. We were sitting apart on the floor, and then our knees were touching, and then he was idly tapping his fingers on my hand. It couldn't have been alcohol (his one-beer limit had been reached hours ago) and he never got drunk.
   I pulled him toward me and kissed him first, I'd admit to that. But it was his arms that pulled me back to him, his hands that were under my shirt, his tongue that lashed at my mouth. Our arms and legs tangled as we rose to our feet and locked the door. My shirt came off not a moment later, something that never even happened while we were together, and I pressed myself against him nearly breathless.
   Ironically? That wasn't the "stupid" thing. It was this:
   "I still love you," I said, and I kissed him before I could say anything. I did that against my better judgment, but it had been weeks since he acted at all interested, and I thought it was a now-or-never kind of thing...
   Next I heard staccato knocking, and then the voice of a little girl. "I need to go to my bathroom!" she yelled.
   It was Ricky's daughter and she sounded bratty and impatient. I became decent in record time, and made it back out to the balcony as Don opened the door. Ricky's seven-year-old was there, but Charisse was right behind her.
   "Me first!" The little girl pushed past Don and into her bathroom. When I looked again, Don was gone, and Charisse had come into the room.
   "Sorry," Charisse said, looking at me with concern. "But all the bathrooms were occupied and… are you okay?"
   "Yes," I said, smiling like a crazy person. "Yes, I'm okay."
   My friend was skeptical, and as she stepped out onto the balcony with me I knew that she had an idea of what they had interrupted.
   "You know, right?" she said, and I felt like my heart was stabbed by a very blunt object. "Don was going out with my friend Gabbie until a few weeks ago. I told her about what he did to you, and she told him she wasn't interested."
   "I didn't know that," I managed to say.
   Which was worse? That Charisse pretty much sabotaged Don's chances with a girl, or that he had reconnected with me on the rebound? Ugh, what would be something a level lower than a doormat? That was me.
    "Ellie, I'm serious. Don is… I mean, he's a friend but... well, you should know. Don't fall for it again. Just don't. You have to move on already."
   I coughed. "I have, I really have," I lied. "We were just talking, Charisse, like old times. I didn't realize the door was locked, that's all."
   Don didn't call me or talk to me after that, and in the next week I had to admit it – I wasn't strong enough to be that close to him.
  
***

That weekend I did a few things.
   First, I chopped off my hair. Well, not all by myself. I went to the salon and asked for short hair again, not like Winona Ryder of the nineties, but a little longer than that with less fringe. Horribly typical, but yeah, I asked them to cut off the hair that Don liked.
   Passive-aggressive much?
   I also wrote a resignation letter. I didn't tell Charisse because she'd talk me out of it, but I just couldn't be within Don's reach anymore.
   My boss Tara was a cool, thirty-something woman and she knew about our breakup story. So even though my resignation letter said "want to explore other career options" she didn't believe it.
   "This is what I'll do," she said. "My friend up in Client Services needs someone in her team. I will recommend you for it. You'll be on a different floor, and you will never have to see anyone from this area ever again if you don't want to. It's a different project, so you can find out if you really want to change careers. This way you won't waste all the years you spent learning about the company and what we do."
   I couldn't argue with her, and at least I didn't have to worry about finding a new job.
   "Okay," I just said, grateful that I had her looking out for me.  "I'll need to turn over my tasks to somebody..."
   "Email that to me. Also, I think you should take a break. The Client Services post doesn't officially start for a few more weeks."
   "What do you mean take a break?"
   "I mean take a break. You keep talking about going to Bangkok. Just go already."

====

OK so I'm posting all the Don chapters as fast as I can so we can get to Lucas na. I don't like Don for Ellie. I really don't. Some smart person on the internet has actually figured out what my secret backstory for him is, even though I didn't tell anybody about it. Thank you <3