The Truth About Love

“Well don’t you look dashing.” Mark teased, meeting me in the lobby of my apartment building.

I had donned a simple white v-neck, tucked into a high-waisted, black pencil skirt with a wide red belt over it. My strappy black wedges thumped against the marble floor of the lobby as I walked over to hug my cousin.

“Come on, the cab’s waiting out front.”

“Where are we going?” I questioned once we were in the cab and on our way.

“Some new Italian place on the other end of town.” He shrugged. “It’s gotten some pretty good reviews.”

Our cab ride was short and uneventful. We teased each other back and forth and laughed at people walking on the sidewalks as we passed.

“So Chris was asking about you yesterday.” Mark informed me with a smirk once we had been seated and had ordered our wine.

“He just needs to fuck off.” I sighed, rolling my eyes up towards the high ceiling. “I’m not going to go back out with him.”

“You know he’s just doing it out of spite now.” He chuckled, accepting a glass of wine from our waiter and taking a sip.

I nodded and took a sip of my own wine when the waiter handed it to me. It was tangy and sweet, Mark had made a good choice.

“I’ve seen more pictures of you and Jeremy.”

“Yeah, I know. They’re all over the internet.”

“Actually, they’re printing now. They’ve finally figured out who you are.”

“Great.” I grumbled, drawing out my vowels and throwing back the rest of my glass of wine.

“So what’s even going on between you two?” My cousin asked curiously, picking up his menu.

“We’re just friends, Mark.” I sighed, but I knew I was lying to myself. “Or I thought we were. I don’t even know. He kissed me last night and I ran away.”

Mark’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and I groaned, burying my face in my hands. I was not ready to feel the butterflies in my stomach, or the scorching blush across my cheeks. I knew that if I didn’t talk to Jeremy and explain to him how I couldn’t do this with him, it would get out of hand.

“Rox, I really think it’s time for you to try again. What happened with Deron was a long time ago. You were twenty years old.”

“Mark, can we please not talk about it.” I whispered, dragging my fingertips down my cheeks before dropping my hands into my lap.

When I was in high school my family had lived in Pennsylvania. I met Deron when I was a junior in high school, he was three years older than me and in a band. We were together for three years before shit went south. It was a really cliché story, to be totally honest. His band started touring and we tried to make it work for a while, but he cheated on me with some band slut and that was that.

We had since made up and still got together every now and then to catch up, but after that incident I had vowed I would never let myself get hurt like that again. He had been my first real boyfriend and the only time I had ever thought I was in love. It took me packing my shit and moving to London for two years to get over what had happened.

So I had started to use guys, instead of being the one that got used. I would hook up with a guy and keep him around as long as I wanted before feeding him some bullshit story about how I had to leave for a family thing and didn’t know when I would be back. Things were simpler that way. I got what I wanted without the drama and potential heartbreak of a real relationship.

“No, I think we need to.” He said dismissively, ignoring my pleas. “You deserve to be happy, and as much as I know you say you are, I can tell you aren’t. You’re lonely, Roxanne. And I just can’t understand why you do this to yourself.”

“Mark, even if I did try to start something with Jeremy, it would never work out. You, of all people, know that to be an actor you have to travel. I just couldn’t stand that.” I sighed, picking at my nail polish nervously.

I rarely showed this vulnerable side to anyone, and I hated showing it now.

“I’m scared of losing people, Mark. It’s not just about Deron. I miss my brother.” I admitted, picking up my menu to hide my face as I tried to compose myself.

Mark pushed the menu down with his hand and stared me down.

“Roxanne, you at least have to talk to him. Jeremy cares about you. But he’s not going to understand you pushing him away unless you explain why you aren’t comfortable with a relationship.”

---------------

I had recited the address Jeremy had texted me to the cab driver and was now feeling nervous. But for some reason, I felt that the nauseous feeling in my stomach had nothing to do with my nerves. I had been feeling ill since right after finishing my meal, which I hadn’t really even finished. I had attributed my lack of appetite to the serious conversation Mark and I had had pre-dinner, but thinking back I thought that maybe my food tasted a little funny.

By the time the cabbie finally stopped in front of Jeremy’s building, I was fighting hard not to barf in his back seat. I threw some bills into his hand before scrambling out of his car and passed the doorman of the building. I jabbed the elevator button repeatedly, silently begging it to hurry. When it finally arrived, I began begging it to hurry up on it’s ascent. Jeremy just had to live on the top floor.

I pounded on his door and when he finally answered, there were beads of sweat forming on my forehead.

“Bathroom.” I demanded, shoving passed him into the new apartment.

“First door on the left.” He replied curiously, shutting the door behind me. “Roxanne, what’s wrong?” He called after me.

But I was already on my knees in front of the toilet and unable to answer.

“What’s wrong?” He repeated, kneeling next to me once I was done puking.

“Food poisoning, I think.”

As if on cue, I received a text from Mark, asking if I was feeling alright because he was starting to feel ill.

“Do you need something? Should I call you a cab?”

I shook my head, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

“I don’t think I’d make it across town in a car.” I admitted. “Can I borrow some sweatpants?”

JEREMY’S POV

She looked so pathetic, sprawled across my bathroom floor, that I couldn’t even bring myself to be upset that she wouldn’t be in a state to talk to me about what had happened the night before. I had been nervous about the conversation all day, but now that I was presented with an opportunity to postpone it, I was peeved.

I dug through one of the boxes in my room, finally producing a pair of navy blue track pants. I returned to the bathroom to find Roxanne disposing of her dinner yet again. I went to rub her back, hoping to be of some comfort to her.

I knew I wasn’t going to be able to put this conversation off for much longer.