Now I realized he wasn’t afraid of marriage. He just didn’t want to marry me.
I thought of the saying: Relationships that begin ambiguously end the same way. Jake and I were probably meant to end here.
On the way home, Chris drove. He wasn’t a
talker, and I wasn’t in the mood for
conversation. The only sound was soft music
filling the car.
“Emily, if you…” he began, but then Ben called.
“Emily, Jake’s in a fight!”
When we arrived, the fight was over. I saw Jake
from a distance. Maybe it was the adrenaline,
or maybe the alcohol, but his face was flushed.
3:38
84
He was sitting on a couch, his arm around the young girl. She shyly buried her face in his chest, and he tilted her chin up and kissed her, just like he used to do with me. The crowd
around them cheered.
Someone who knew me asked, “Dude, weren’t you going to marry Emily? What’s up with the
new girl?”
Jake’s face darkened. “I was never going to
marry her.”
The guy looked taken aback, then tried to
defend me. “But this girl… she looks just like
Emily…”
Jake slammed his glass down. “Don’t ever
mention that name again, or get out. This is
your new sister–in–law. Call her that.”
The people around them exchanged uneasy
glances, none of them comfortable calling such
<
a young girl “sister–in–law.”
I couldn’t watch anymore. I turned and left. Ben,
who’d just arrived, bumped into me at the door.
“What the hell happened? Is he hurt? Should we
take him to the hospital?” He glanced inside,
just in time to see Jake pull the girl onto his lap
and nuzzle her neck, the same way he used to
be so affectionate with me.
Ben backed away, cursing under his breath.
I told them not to bother taking me home. I walked alone to the river, memories flooding
back.
At 18, after graduation, Jake had coaxed me
into sleeping with him, promising to be with me forever. The rebellious, reckless Jake had given
up all his dangerous hobbies because I’d
worried about him. He’d gone to the same
college as me, becoming the perfect boyfriend,
<
3:38
making everyone envious of how openly and
devotedly he loved me.
At 21, when his parents found out about us, his father had whipped him with a cane, calling him irresponsible. Jake hadn’t shed a tear, holding his head high and telling them he was serious about me, that he would make me happy. Even with his back bloody and raw, while I sobbed, he’d smiled and told me it didn’t hurt. After that, he’d asked his mother for the ring and slipped
it on my finger. “Now you’re officially part of the
Walker family.”
Ben had once asked him if he’d ever change his
mind, since feelings can be fleeting. Jake had
kicked him and said he’d never stop loving me,
not unless he died.
Just last year, after we’d passed our seven-
year itch, he’d held me close and said his love
for me would last until death. He was someone
who wore his heart on his sleeve. His love was
<
intense, passionate, a wildfire. I, on the other
hand, was slow to warm up, slow to fall, but my
love ran deep. So deep that even now, with him
moved on, I was still trapped in memories.
I remembered taking him to my parents‘ graves after he gave me the ring. He’d held my hand
and promised them, “Don’t worry, Mr. and Mrs.
Miller, I’ll take care of Emily forever.”
Turns out his “forever” was only eight years.
Turns out what I thought was love was just an
undefined, unacknowledged physical
relationship.
I wiped the cold tears from my cheeks. My
phone pinged. An email. Doctors Without
Borders had accepted my application. I was
leaving in a week.
After my parents died, my dad’s best friend, the
Walkers, took me in. Their son, Jake Walker,
became my whole world.
<
3:38
Sixteenth birthday, Jake, a little drunk, kissed
- me. Declared I was his, and his alone. At
eighteen, he sweet–talked me into sleeping with him, swore we’d be together forever.
Twenty–four rolls around, I’m thinking marriage. He’s thinking, “Nope, not ever.”
A month of silence, then our friends throw a party, hoping we’ll make up. Jake shows up with
some girl, fresh out of high school. Her shy
smile is a mirror of me at eighteen.
Ashley, my best friend, explodes. “Jake, what
the actual fuck? What about Emily?”
Jake scoffs. “Chill out, guys. Emily’s like my
little sister. Living with us doesn’t mean I gotta
put a ring on it, right?”
He kisses the girl’s hair, then looks at everyone.
“And no gossip about me and Emily. Don’t want
my girlfriend getting the wrong idea. She’s
<
young, easy to spook.”
