Justin grunted, "Oh yeah," as he came, like he was the fucking Kool-Aide man. I pursed my lips and reciprocated with a "Mmmm," but I was nowhere near close. I never was with my husband. And Lord knows I've tried but I simply could not get myself into having sex with him. Aesthetically speaking, Justin wasn’t not good looking - he was 5’10’’, exactly my height with dark hair and heterochromatic eyes that made him look more Bond villain than Bowie. We’d both gotten fluffier throughout lockdown. I’d tried to engross myself in cooking videos, to distract me from the constant presence of another person in my home. The condo I’d bought with my mother’s inheritance yet the dark, modern flat seemed more like a stylish AirBnB rather than a place I’d call home. My penchant for bright, happy colors had faded throughout Justin and I’s relationship and was replaced with my husband’s desire to maintain a visage of polished success. The only thing missing, he seemed to think, was children. Adding the pressure of trying to conceive had left me yearning for at least some kind of chemistry and the depressing realization the only spark in our bedroom came from my well-worn vibrator.
Justin hopped out of bed immediately and headed for the shower. He always showered immediately after making love - despite insisting that I wasn't "dirty," he still felt the need to clean himself thoroughly after we'd been together. This is what I get for marrying the good-on-paper guy. He was a dutiful husband. He was kind throughout my mother’s illness and she had taken comfort in the idea of me, her only child, being cared for after she was gone. "Marriage is more of a partnership anyway," she said. To forgo a true love match for the sake of securing a decent future for myself, with someone that my mother had at least met and found agreeable. "He definitely can't keep up with your sense of humor," she later admitted. I couldn't remember the last time I'd told a joke. I had made a "that's what she said," crack while out with Justin and his friends and I was later berated for being too crass. Justin couldn't have his wife making dirty jokes, that wouldn't do. I was his to be his silent partner as long as I played the part of a blonde, happy homemaker who always agreed with him.
We had met whenI left Wexford University after being arrested for public intoxication early on in my freshman year. Ever the obedient girl, I had actually stopped when the Wexford cops raided a party and told everyone to stop running. My overprotective parents bailed me out of jail the next day and immediately whisked me back home where I resumed my old job waiting tables at the pub. That’s where I’d met Justin, he had been hired as a manager while I was briefly away at school and always liked to maintain that power over me. I was at my lowest - even my long distance boyfriend at the time, Luke, had dumped me after hearing I was a college dropout with a record. I was shocked someone had shown interest in me and Justin gaslit me into thinking that I was lucky to have found someone willing to see past my past. Even now, Justin was still a manager at the pub but fancied himself a finance bro and had started a YouTube channel during the pandemic, making him even more insufferable. I had moved on from the pub, eventually getting my RN from the local community college, fulfilling a dream my mother had for me but I never had for myself. “Nurses are always in demand,” she had said, ever concerned about my future. I always felt as though I were living someone else’s life when I slipped into my scrubs… I was a nurse who was afraid of needles.
Despite being in the service industry, Justin was rude to waiters, dismissing my objections as him being critical of other restaurant’s practices. He had anger issues, once even punching through a glass window on a bus because we were caught in traffic leaving a concert. I wasn’t sure if those anger issues had waned over the years or if I’d just gotten so accustomed to walking on eggshells that I hadn’t provoked him recently. He was also obsessed with brands and appearances. He was mortified when his buddy's wife asked where I had gotten my yoga pants and I said they were from Costco. To his credit, he bought me a pair of Lululemon's afterwards but in a size too small. I wasn't sure if that was a dig or not. I never knew with Justin. Justin seemed to have it all together. Great car, house, job, tons of friends, an active social life, glamorous vacations to post about on I*******m and I fit in as his wife. The sweet nurse who kept the house neat, dinner on the table and stayed consistently toasted on wine so I could numb myself to my miserable existence. He could be the perfect guy for someone else, but he wasn't the perfect guy for me. Even our fertility doctor said we were incompatible - I knew he meant my eggs and his sperm but both of us were deemed healthy and I felt like my body was literally rejecting him.
My mind often wandered, desperate to escape real life. I wanted something more. A sense of belonging. A real connection to another person. My marriage had become overwhelmingly lonely, exacerbated by being together in quarantine. It became shockingly evident how little we had in common - we didn’t watch the same shows, listen to the same music, like the same food or share the same political views. He was convinced COVID was a hoax because some dude on the internet said so. That became very tiresome for me, a nurse, who was helping patients Facetime their families to say goodbye on a regular basis. I eventually quit trying to find common ground and kept my nose in a book. I had read about soulmates and twin flames and wondered if I had a true soulmate out there, one who was mine in a past lifetime and I had just tragically missed during this one. I secretly hoped he was out there, somewhere. My mind always wandered to the same person - Colin Mills. We had first met in middle school and his piercing blue eyes felt like they stared directly into my soul. I knew I was staring back but couldn't help it. Only the bell sounding at the end of the passing period had broken our gaze and we had remained acquaintances throughout middle school and high school. Our paths would occasionally cross whenever my strict parents were foolish enough to think I was at a “lacrosse sleepover.” One such occasion, we’d played Spin The Bottle at an abandoned house in our hometown and though it was a silly kiss, it was an electric moment - one I still think about 17 years later. Colin had even continued to Wexford as well but I was long gone before we could reconnect at university. I always wished we had and wondered if my life would be any different.
I waited for Justin to turn on the shower before fetching my vibrator from its hiding spot. Whenever I thought about Colin, I felt awake in every sense of the word and felt desperate to satisfy that urge. It was always the same fantasy - instead of just making out at the abandoned house, we’d stumbled into some room which magically had a clean bed, tearing each other's clothes off and him sinking himself deep into me. Colin was much bigger than my husband, tall and built like the rugby player he was and I longed to feel the crushing weight of a man on top of me, passionate about me, thinking of nothing else but of different ways to touch each other. Sex with my husband was so boring that I made my packing list for the beach in my head while doing it.
I finished myself off quickly before I heard the shower water shut off and placed my trusty vibe back in her hiding spot. I thought of my mental checklist for the beach. This wasn't an I*******m vacation, much to Justin's chagrin. My dad had finally decided it was time to release my mother's ashes into the ocean, per her wishes, so we were headed down to her favorite spot, Wrightsville Beach. We had gone every summer when I was growing up and always stayed at the Broadfoot cottage, the last time being the summer before I left for college. It was demolished just months later, on the same day that mom had passed away. It was a funky, old beach shack that was oceanfront and it was an absolute treasure. Mom swore it was haunted and one time, after a few too many spritzers on the porch, we thought we saw a spring loaded door open itself. We tiptoed into the kitchen to investigate and the door suddenly slammed itself shut. Mom placed her hand on my back, gently shoved me toward the door and said, "You go check it out."
I laughed at the memory. Though she was strict, she was a lot of fun. I had a delightful childhood and she was a wonderful mother but we had a difficult transition from child-mother relationship to adult-mother relationship. Her loss of control resulted in a lot of lashing out and my newfound freedom led to some poor decision making. I often wondered what our relationship would be now, had she survived ovarian cancer. I was freshly home from college when she was sick and she worried about what kind of future I’d have - so concerned that I’ve based a lot of my decisions on whether or not I thought she’d approve. Which is probably why I was still married to Justin.
"I need you to pack my bag," Justin interrupted my thoughts.
"I do?" I was already planning on forgetting something on purpose.
"I'm going out with the guys, won't be back late and we're leaving in the morning, right?" I guess I was on my own for dinner.
I glanced at the window as an older Bronco rumbled up the driveway. It was Colin. He had gotten a bit bigger and grayer with age but his blue eyes were still as piercing as they were in middle school. He and Justin worked together at the pub - Colin had bought the bar with the money he’d received in a settlement years ago and against the advice of even the previous owner. “You won’t have a life outside of being a bar owner,” he had warned. I decided to go say hi to the man who was the frequent star of my fantasies.
"Justin is a lucky man," Colin said as he got out of the car, tenderly embracing me in a bear hug.
"Oh, stop," but don't, I thought.
"If you have any single friends... Someone exactly like you." Colin continued. I inhaled deeply. He always smelled amazing and it elicited a sense of nostalgia for something I hadn’t experienced, at least in this lifetime. I smiled at him. Colin was easy to be around, I instantly relaxed in his presence. I hadn't received a compliment in a really long time.
The next morning, I pulled on my black Costco leggings out of spite and paired them with Uggs, a crisp white V-neck tee and *the* Louis Vuitton Neverfull, which Justin was endlessly impressed by. I couldn't have cared less but it seemed to fit well with my basic bitch uniform and while embarking on a trip to scatter my mom's ashes, a basic bitch uniform seemed like good armor to hide behind. I tugged my blonde hair into a messy top knot and glanced at myself in the mirror. My blue eyes no longer twinkled, my skin looked dull and tired. I sighed and covered myself with an oversized pair of Ray-Bans and set off. I pulled my Range Rover into my dad's driveway in Seneca Falls. My parents had purchased the home, which backed into the national park, before Seneca Falls was *Seneca Falls* and though it was a simple colonial, the 8 acres of woods surrounding it were peaceful and home to many childhood forts. Justin had been yammering at my dad to sell; real estate was another investment aren
No one prepares you for how undignified scattering ashes is. Of course, it sounds like a lovely ceremony, letting the wind carry your loved one to their final resting place, but in practice, dad and I were washing out a plastic bag that was full of mom in the ocean and debating on what to do with said bag. We couldn't litter in the ocean, should we throw it out? What if it still had parts of mom in it and she ends up in some landfill in bumfuck North Carolina? "I don't think she'll mind," dad said, reading my mind and gently placing the bag in the park trash can. "She doesn't," the ancient voice came from behind us. Dad and I turned slowly towards a woman who looked to be in her 80's or 90's. "Actually, I'm 103," she said, reading my mind. Now she had my attention. "Child, you look just like her," she continued. "Your mama needed an adjustment too so she could cross paths with him." The old woman nodded towards my dad, who, like I, must have looked visibly shaken because a younger
My ears were ringing loudly and my stomach had dropped like I had just been on a roller coaster. I blinked my eyes open and looked down to see my square-tipped French manicured hand atop a manhole cover. It was dark outside and the faint din of party noise was in the background. "Cabrey, you alright?" I looked up and saw my friend Alexis. I hadn't seen Alexis since my freshman year in college and here she was, dressed in a pink ruffled mini skirt and a bedazzled Bebe baby tee. She stumbled a little as she bent down and grabbed my arm. "Up you go, there are cops following us." I froze. I had been here before, albeit 16 years ago. I bounced to my feet and looked around. I was in Wexford. There was no mistaking the worn out college town in the mountains. I quickly surveyed myself. Abercrombie army cargo pants were slung low around my flat, toned stomach. My top was a brown suede tie back. I gasped at the realization - I was about to be arrested. The trajectory of my life had changed i
Walking across campus, I felt excited to break free from my parent’s control and had wanted to push the boundaries. I had a firm 11pm curfew throughout high school and mom kept tabs on me at all times. It was a blessing phone tracking wasn’t available, so she couldn't see I was getting alcohol poisoning in a random field somewhere when I had said I was at a "lacrosse sleepover." I had felt a change within myself so I didn't feel an urgent need to go drink questionable punch in a dirty frat basement. My shift in priorities left me curious as to what else Wexford had to offer. I pursued the different club tables that lined the quad, beckoning freshmen to join their various activities. “Hey Ya” by Outkast blared from the speakers of one table while other freshman girls, sweating in their Juicy Couture tracksuits in the August heat of Southwest Virginia signed up for rush events. My introverted self hurried past the sororities and I curiously stopped at Wexford Outdoors. The university wa
I found myself seated in a computer lab at the registrar's office, armed with a course catalog. I decided to knock out some of the general education requirements to assuage my mother’s objections to my deviation from the nursing track but my encounter at the study abroad table reignited my interest in art. I signed up for an intro to graphic design course and added beginner’s yoga as my physical education requirement. I left feeling excited about the future, rather than burdened with the weight of fulfilling a dream that wasn’t my own.On my way out, I spotted Alexis from the night before hanging out with one of Luke's football teammates and one of my friends from high school, Ryan. "What happened to you last night?" Alexis asked, "I should have followed you, I got a fucking ticket for underage possession." Having no explanation for what could have compelled me to run, I just told her I had stomach problems and needed to book it back to my dorm. "Heard you dumped Luke so you could b
I glared at my alarm clock. "Do you always moan in your sleep," Krystal was awake, looking down at me. I was definitely a sweaty mess, my body still alert from the dream. "I was just restless, being in a new place and all," I replied. She shrugged and sat down at her desk to do her makeup. There wasn't a single scholastic item on her desk; she had a full, lighted mirror with more makeup than a Sephora. Some evangelical snake oil salesman was playing on the TV that I’d bought from home. "I'm meeting the campus pastor for morning prayer," she said, dowsing herself in Victoria’s Secret Love Potion body spray.I smiled, throwing my legs out of bed. They still felt like Jell-O from the dream. If Colin could turn my legs to Jell-O in my dream, what was he capable of in real life? The prospect felt enthralling. "Is he hot?" I asked."He is a married, Christian man," Krystal snapped. Right. Because I'd do a full face for a married, Christian man at 8am on a Saturday,too."Do you need to use
Monday morning came and I dressed in a cute graphic tee from Hollister and low slung Seven jeans, and stashed my notebooks in my multicolor Louis Vuitton tote. I pulled my perfectly straight ponytail through a Von Dutch trucker hat, popped on my oversized rimless sunglasses and had my earbuds in. Modest Mouse's “Float On” wafted through the headphones as I started out across campus to fetch myself a coffee before my first class of the day.I was totally that girl for walking into Psychology 101 a minute late with a Starbucks. The professor rolled his eyes at me and waved me in. I went to slide into a seat near the back when I heard a familiar voice:"Cabrey, over here," Colin whispered. I quickly sat in the empty lecture chair next to him. He reached over and took a sip of my coffee, like we'd been married for years and it was the most normal thing in the world. He didn't seem to notice my surprise. We actually had to take written notes in a notebook during the lecture. I had forgott
That Friday after classes were done for the day, I packed my dirty laundry and dismissed the guilt over bringing home my laundry by being even more disgusted by the communal washers and dryers in my dorm. We were only a week into the semester and the machines already had the stink. I wanted to be comfortable for the ride but look cute at the same time, so I sported my PINK yoga pants with the multicolored logo waistband and a too tight Wexford tee shirt. I ironed my hair into a bouncy ponytail and applied light makeup for a natural look that still made my eyes pop. Colin pulled his old Bronco into the Dominion Hall parking lot and got out to help me with my luggage and I sheepishly handed him my hamper while he handed me a coffee."Thought you'd like a latte for the ride," he said. He had remembered my Starbucks order. I took a sip, purposefully getting foam on my upper lip and smiled back."That was too sweet, thank you," I said. I noticed his hamper in the truck. "I see you packed
The salty sea air filled my nose. I looked down at my hands, illuminated by the fading sun. Unpolished fingers, clipped short with a square shaped art deco style engagement ring on my left hand. I look at it quizzically then surveyed the rest of my outfit. A crisp white v neck tee shirt and black Costco leggings. “No, no, no, no,” I screamed as I began to pound my hands on the manhole cover. Dad squatted down next to me, quietly shushing me as I was scaring a family walking back from the beach. I looked up at him with tears in my eyes as he pulled me into a hug.“I know it’s hard, sweetie, but 16 years is a long time and we needed to put mom to rest,” he said gently. I looked over his shoulder and at the giant beach house before me, where the Broadfoot Cottage had once stood. The faint squeak of a wheelchair turned my attention to the street, where a young man was wheeling an ancient woman on the sidewalk. “Did you run, child,” she asked. I looked at her, bewildered. “That poor wom
I spent the next few days at home with dad in a state of alcohol-induced numbness. Mom’s favorite drink was a chilled Titos with a lemon and I kept my tumbler full of it while reconciling being simultaneously grief stricken and angry at someone who is no longer with you. I felt robbed of time I could have spent with her, had I known. I shuffled through her desk, looking for clues as to what was going through her mind while I was away. I found every graphic design project I’d done in Japan proudly hung up inside the desk’s hutch, with a photograph of her, Colin and I, taken while out to brunch. I found solace that she had been proud enough of my accomplishments and had liked Colin enough to display them in what little room she had on her crowded bulletin board. Dad and I went through the motions of delivering the news to relatives and making cremation arrangements with the funeral home. Mom hadn't wanted a service; she simply wanted to be scattered at sea, at Wrightsville Beach. I ha
The Japanese hospital held me for another day. Sarah didn’t leave my side. We had both become convinced that Rebecca had sinister plans for baby trapping Colin while letting Sarah’s brother beat him into submission to go along with her plan. I had remembered that Rebecca’s family was incredibly well connected; she had managed to get away with anything and everything in high school without a single blemish to her record. I was fitted with a walking boot so at least I wouldn’t be completely immobile. I was released from their care and Emi met us with a driver to take us back to the dorms so we could collect our things. “You’ll be back next year,” Emi assured us. She could sense that we were sad to be leaving but understood both Sarah and I’s circumstances. We needed to get back stateside to sort out the mess that Rebecca had created for both of us. I was able to pack up relatively fast and opened my laptop to check email and AIM before heading to the airport. A reminder from Wexford’s
I wasn't home anymore. My body ached all over. I opened my eyes and saw my left leg and arm in clean, white plaster casts, gently elevated from the ceiling. An IV bag dripped fluids into my arm. The hospital was immaculately clean. A nurse hurried over to me. "Miss, miss," she said, gently shaking my shoulder. I winced in pain. "Name please, miss."Tears began to stream silently down my face. I wanted to go home, back to that home.Unsure of myself at that moment and not fully grasping where I was, I responded. "Cabrey Mills."Back at WexfordColin's phone rang on the hospital table. He had been in a coma for the past 5 days, his body recovering from being jumped by a group of deadbeat townies. They’d beaten him nearly to death. His mother looked at the caller ID. It was definitely international but she didn't recognize the country code nor was the number saved in her son's phone. She knew that the girl her son had fallen for was missing in Tokyo. She had been thankful she hadn't had
The next day in class, I got an IM. HighlandHooker85: HeyI took one glance at the name and blocked it.The next couple of weeks were incredibly busy. The graphic design program had a more holistic art approach so instead of just sitting at our computers, we were attending paint classes, throwing pots on wheels, doing watercolors at the park, going to art galleries and museums and were encouraged to bring our cameras everywhere with us, in case inspiration struck. I was loving every minute of it. I hadn’t been the best traditional student, thus the reason why I ended up at Wexford and not one of the better Virginia schools but had always excelled in my art classes. I felt like I was learning so much and enjoying myself so thoroughly that any lingering regrets I had about leaving Wexford behind had diminished to nothing. One night after slurping noodles at a ramen house with Sarah, I got an IM from Jenny. She asked why I’d blocked Colin. What are you talking about, I replied. She ga
14 hours later and I’d landed in the future, in Tokyo. I couldn’t believe I’d slept the entire flight, I must have needed it. So much for Fodor’s, I thought as I tucked the book back into my carryon. I glanced at the elderly woman sitting next to me. Her formally catatonic expression was gone; her chocolate eyes twinkling as they looked directly at me.“Don’t run off course, child,” she said quietly. “Excuse me?” I asked the old woman, confused but her expression turned back to stone as quickly as our interaction had taken place. Strange, I thought and was relieved to see a younger companion helping her from her seat and into a wheelchair. I had felt comforted by her presence; how else did I manage to relax and rest for 14 hours straight on a flight?A driver in a full chauffeur uniform greeted myself and a few other Wexford students at the gate. I hadn’t recognized any of them but hoped at least one of them would be a good buddy to explore with. Once we were all accounted for, the d
Back at WexfordColin checked his phone for the millionth time that afternoon. He had been frantically texting me while trying to piece together the previous night. He had remembered the party, dancing, the police coming and then everything turned into a blur afterwards. He hoped Cabrey made it safely out of the party but had hoped even more that last night would be the night they’d finally get together. Sitting up in bed made his hangover even more palpable. He vaguely remembered Rebecca feeding him shots after everyone had gotten back to his apartment. He hoped he hadn’t done anything stupid that ruined his chances with Cabrey. He tried to shake the feeling that something was off and decided to clean up. While he was making his bed, he found a pair of clean, leopard panties tucked under the guest side pillow. That side of the bed was still made; he had changed the sheets and made the bed in case Cabrey slept over last night. whose panties were these and why were they placed there?
Jenny left to grab us some pregame drinks and I started to get ready. Though it was going to be chilly, I opted for my shortest denim miniskirt with Uggs and of course *the* sweatshirt. For the afterparty, I wore a lace trimmed cami that made my tits look fantastic and exposed just enough midriff to show off my flat stomach. I straightened my hair and side parted it then french braided the long part across the front. Lauren Conrad had just rocked that look on Laguna Beach and I was obsessed. I mimicked her black eyeliner and bronzer and checked myself out in the mirror. "Would you fuck me, I'd fuck me," I joked around with Jenny, doing my best worst Buffalo Bill from Silence of the Lambs impression. My cell beeped from my desk and I checked to see what it was. Rebecca. I really didn’t feel like dealing with her or her weird boyfriend, Justin. They were downright sloppy at the concert and I really didn’t want them to ruin tonight’s energy."Hey girl," she started, "I'm headed down to
When we got back Sunday, Colin walked me up to my dorm with my backpack. Krystal was home but had company. They scuttled out of Krystal’s bed in a hurry, both still partially clothed. “You must be Pastor Duane,” I said with a laugh. I’d seen posters of the evangelical preacher on campus and he was the one Krystal had done a full face at 8am for. “And you two must be Shrek and Fiona,” Krystal retorted, looking Colin and I up and down. We were covered in mud and I was in desperate need of a hot shower. Colin had offered to take us back to his apartment to clean up but I was so far gone that I needed to be with my own things to pull myself back together. Pastor Duane quickly tucked tail out of our dorm room with Colin following him to the elevators. We’d actually discussed his strange brand of Christianity on our hike so I’m sure Colin had questions about the Quiverfull movement that Pastor Duane preached about. Once we were alone and I was thoroughly bathed, I asked Krystal about the