2:40

He said he’d accept me for who I am. That it didn’t matter to him.

All those years thinking that I’d found the one. That I was done hiding who I was to my lovers. That we’d make it. 

Yet there he was locking lips with Ma. Red hot. Her body melded into his. Her jasmine perfume everywhere in the room.

Their backs to me while I stood at the doorway.

A stone lodged in my throat. A spike split my chest. A prayer printed on my lips. To not lose. Not this one.

Ma wasn’t the type to be faithful. To anyone. 

Maybe she forced him. Maybe he would push her away. Maybe she was just testing him. The little thread of maybes.

Until I saw his hands exploring her back. Trailing for a zipper.

The same hands that explored my body last week. 

Someone moans. Can’t tell who. Them, me? 

The thread broke. Chopped by an axe.

My fingers trembled for the handle. Forced the door open. Voice chomped on my tongue. Some power buried in me pushed me away.

“John?”

My name. But not in his voice.

Kept moving. Out of the hallway, out of the reception, out of the lobby. Sunlight blinding. Thighs pumping. Heels clacking. Face hurting. Straight for our car in the other lot. White with rainbow electric lines. Latest model, or that’s what he said when he gave it to me for our engagement. 

Pretty soon it’ll just be his car. With Ma in the backseat. That stung.

Ripped on the door handle. Damn. Forgot the keys. They were back in the room. With them.

The sight in the side mirror caught me. My makeup ran down my stubble chin. My wedding dress bubbled around my shoulders. My eyes focused on the rose tattoo on my chest. The one we shared.

Covered by the blue rose broach we had chosen. Because of how impossible it was for us to be together, he had said.

Thought the same way too back then. But not in that way.

“John!”

Rough fingers grabbed my wrist. I jumped.

“Andre, I—”

“John, what’re ya—”

My car alarm goes off. Andre winced. I kept my chin high. I mouthed to him “No keys!” He nodded and led us out of the lot. I wanted to rip my arm away. I couldn’t. Not when his fingers were so warm and gentle, not once forcing me to move.

We marched to Andre’s car, that grey hunk-of-junk with the hole in the middle. Every time I saw it, I’d call it The Dad Car. Empty beer cans, wadded up fast food wrappers, dirty laundry. Middle-aged single man through and through. I wouldn’t be caught dead in it. Most of the time.

He opened the passenger door for me and I slipped in. Refused to look at him when he closed the door. He slid into the driver’s seat. Half of me expected him to just gun it. Freeway exit was two stop lights over. 

We didn’t budge. 

He sighed in the only way I know he did: deep into that potbelly and fluffing the tips of his beard. “So, I take it ya didn’t forget something else out there besides your keys?”

I scoffed. “Wish I had.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That I should’ve known better.”

Sitting still, I felt the tears welling up this time. I bit down on my bottom lip.

Andre shuffled in his seat. A red handkerchief flopped on my lap. Looked like a bloodstain on the pearl satin. I didn’t take it. He picked it up and patted my cheeks. I let him. I watched the traffic lurch and jam nearby, counting the stop cycles. He doesn’t stop until I counted to five.

“Always the stubborn one, you was. Had to see it through, did ya?”

“Yeah.”

“‘S a shame. Real pretty dress this time.”

“Yeah.”

I glanced at myself in the mirror. Laughter burst out of me.

“I look horrible! Like a clown!”

“Nah, you’re a beauty. Don’t you think otherwise.“

“But I’m such a—”

“Fool? Nah, he’s the fool. You’re too good for him.”

“And Ma can go to hell.”

“Sure.”

I complained about the heat, so he turned on the emission. Oil and stale air fumigated the space between us. Clock on the dash came to life. Just ten minutes until the ceremony began. Really? Headache said it was ten lifetimes ago.

Andre sighed. “What’s wrong?” And I could tell from his voice it was the don’t-be-hiding-no-more invitation. His words lost their edge. That just made it worse.

My lips clammed up. Damn it, Andre. Why do you do this to me?

I dared myself to look at him. Andre’s eyes met mine. Always liked the blue in them. Close to grey, almost washed out. Could see my reflection on them if I squinted. More lines underneath than I remembered. Last I heard it was the screaming twins keeping him up at night these days. Should really take better care of himself.

The other half of me wondered what it would feel like to be crushed by those teddy bear arms. Snuggle into that flabby chest at night and listen to that steady heartbeat. Get tickled every morning by that raggedy beard. Kiss, kiss those chapped lips and chubby cheeks. Chat away the lazy Sundays. Play house with his kids. Nag at them to do their homework. Dress up with a cute apron to make supper.

I blinked. And it was gone.

I cleared my throat. “Nothing much. Just time to get back in the saddle.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I just need a ride back to my apartment. Get some things packed.”

“Okay.”

Locked my eyes at the hole in his car the entire way. The same Johnny Cash CD from high school looped twice. Some things never changed.

When we got there, Andre opened the door for me again. Car was so low that the satin clipped along the curb. Rustled my way out, the dress rippling against Andre’s hips. I shivered when my bare leg brushed against his by accident. He did look good in a suit.

“Hey, John?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll always be your best man. Ya know that, right?”

“Yeah.”

He offered to help. I said no. Told him I would inform the landlord and do everything myself. He walked back to his car.

“Andre, I...”

The hitch in my voice stopped him. A light in his eyes this time. Eyebrows creased his forehead. I clenched my dress, biting back the words I wanted to say.

“Thank you.”

He smiled. He drove off. I watched him until The Dad Car turned out of sight. Until the shadows of the apartment complex swallowed me whole. All that while, my hand laid on top the blue rose broach at my chest.