It Was You Read online

  “You think so?”

  She nodded. “You messed up, but this isn’t unforgiveable. Not if you ask me.”

  The only problem was, Judi hadn’t asked my mother.

  Still, I took off like a shot, racing out to my car. As I climbed in, the futility of my task hit me. Judi had a several-minutes head start, not to mention that I didn’t actually know where she’d gone. She could be anywhere in this entire city. Hell, she could’ve left town!

  There was a good chance she’d gone to her place, so I headed that way first. It was snowing, the flakes landing wetly on my windshield. I turned on the wipers, chasing the soft flakes away as fast as I could. With panic rising within me, I was in no mood to admire the peaceful blanket of snow that was settling over my surroundings.

  I pulled into her driveway and looked around. Her car was nowhere to be seen, although her roommate’s was there. Should I go inside and ask Chelle if she might know where Judi was? I decided instead to try another destination.

  Judi wasn’t at Caffeine Hut, or the pizza place she liked, or the gay-friendly bar where we’d had our first date. I pulled over and took a moment to think about where else she might’ve gone. I could barely form clear thoughts when my mind was racing all over the place. With every minute that passed, I grew more and more despondent.

  I grabbed my phone and tried calling Judi. If she didn’t pick up, I’d leave a message. I’d apologize from the bottom of my heart. If she knew, if she understood how this had happened, there was no way she could stay mad at me.

  To my surprise, she actually picked up – but she didn’t give me any time to make my case. “Ella, I thought you might call,” she said coldly. “Do me a favor, and don’t bother to call again.”

  Was she going to hang up just like that? “Wait,” I said desperately. “I know I fucked up. At least hear me out.”

  “I don’t know what there is to hear,” she said. “You’ve been dishonest with me since day one. You had every opportunity to tell me the truth, and you didn’t. You made me think I had the full story when you were laughing behind my back the whole time. You even plotted with your brother about how to fool me better.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” I gasped, my heart wrenching. “I only wanted to help Sam. I know it was dumb. I never thought I’d meet you or fall for you.”

  “You still don’t get it, do you?” Her voice wasn’t so cold anymore – it dripped with rage, and I wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. “I don’t care that you pretended to be Sam. I care that you lied about it! We could’ve laughed about you texting me, the way we laughed about him asking you for advice. But you never let me in on the joke. You decided not to give me a chance. I had to find out the truth from a nine-year-old kid. Do you know how humiliating that was?”

  “I only bent the truth so you wouldn’t be mad.” I stared helplessly at the falling snow beyond my windshield.

  “Maybe I would’ve been mad. But you know what? I wouldn’t have broken up with you for it.”

  “You’re not doing that now, are you?” I shriveled against the car seat, waiting with dread for her answer.

  She paused for a long moment. “I don’t want to, Ella, but you haven’t left me a choice. Only a week ago, I was telling you how I can’t stand lies. Little white lies are the worst of all. I need to feel like my partner is on my team, and you made me feel the opposite of that. I don’t see how I could ever trust you again.”

  My hand was suddenly too weak to keep the phone against my ear. I brought my knees to my chest so they could hold the phone up. “Please don’t,” I begged. “Don’t do this. I’ll be better from now on. I’ll never keep anything from you again, I promise.”

  “The thing is, I already gave you that chance.” She sounded sad. She also sounded sure of herself. “I can’t be with someone I can’t trust. Put yourself in my shoes. I don’t think you’d want to continue this relationship, either.”

  “Yes, I would.” This couldn’t seriously be happening. A tear fell from my eye, and I didn’t bother to wipe it away. “I love you, Judi. You told me you loved me. We can work through this, I swear. I’ll do anything.”

  “It’s already past that point. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t do this. Especially not over the phone. Where are you? I’ll come to you – we’ll talk about this in person. Please, baby, please.”

  There was a long pause. I held my breath, hoping – praying – she was about to give in. I knew she loved me, so there was no way she’d drop me like this. She had to give me another chance. Had to.

  But the only thing I heard next was the dial tone.

  Twenty-Two – Judi

  Hanging up that phone was the hardest thing I’d ever done in my life. I wiped away the tears I’d been silently shedding and turned to Chelle. “I made the right decision, didn’t I?”

  “Only you can say whether it was best for you.” She gazed at me sympathetically. “Can I get you another glass of wine?”

  “No.” I sniffled. “I need something more comforting. Something like…” Like Ella’s arms. “Never mind. No food or drink in the world is going to make me feel better.”

  “Another blanket, maybe?”

  “Okay.”

  I looked at my phone again as she went to get one out of her room. I was glad I’d parked down the street so Ella wouldn’t know I was here. She’d probably come knocking if she knew I was here, and I wasn’t sure if I could resist her apologies in person.

  I wanted to be with her more than anything. But how could I when she’d betrayed me like that? I kept going over the sequence of events in my mind. How confused I’d been about Sam’s two personalities… how things had fallen into place when Ella told me she’d “helped” him. The story had still felt a little off at that point – I should’ve listened to my intuition.

  Why had she never come out and told me she’d been the one texting? I’d been so calm when she’d told me her half-truth. Why had she thought I’d be angry at the other half?

  “I don’t get it,” I said as Chelle wrapped the second blanket around me. “I just don’t get it.”

  “It’s okay, honey. You have a lot to process.” She nudged me to move to one side, then the other, and pushed the blanket underneath me, tucking me in on the couch. “Do you want to be alone?”

  “No, I want to be with her.”

  “Stay strong.” She patted my back. “If this is a dealbreaker for you, then stick to it.”

  She walked away, only stopping when I spoke. “But should it be a dealbreaker?” I asked. “Am I being crazy?”

  “You have to pick your own dealbreakers, Judi. I can’t do that for you.” She hesitated, then pursed her lips. “Call me if you need anything. Anything at all.”

  I nodded and grabbed a Kleenex as I scrolled upward to the beginning of my conversation with Sam. With Ella posing as Sam, rather.

  I reread the first few messages, almost smiling before the pain hit me again. Those days felt so long ago. How had I ever thought these messages could come from Sam? They were so wildly different from the way he spoke and acted in real life. Then once I’d started texting Ella, she’d sounded just like “him.”

  I scrolled downward, remembering how she and I had forged a friendship over text. Now that I knew the truth, I couldn’t even reminisce about it fondly. All I felt was anger about how the two of them had betrayed me.

  And then Ella had met me in person, and she’d known who I was. Not right from the start, but now that I thought about it, I could guess the moment when it’d clicked in her mind. I remembered telling her my name wasn’t Julie, but Judi with an I. The sick look on her face was imprinted on my mind. How had I not known something was up?

  As I thought about it, more and more pieces fell into place. Like how she’d been so standoffish – ending our first couple of dates early, making me think I’d done something wrong. Now I understood.

  So many times early on, she’d known things about me that she shouldn’t have, or
she’d avoided a topic we’d been talking about over text. And then when we ran into Sam, she pretended he was a distant acquaintance. She’d been so quick to deceive me at every possible turn. I couldn’t forgive her for that. There was no possible way.

  I skimmed through a few more messages, my lips tugging upward despite myself as I reread a witty remark she’d made. No one got my sense of humor like she did. No one shared my interests… no one understood me as a person…

  But she didn’t understand me that well, or she never would’ve lied to me like this.

  I wiggled around in my blanket. Chelle had wrapped me so tightly, I felt like a bug in a rug. I could’ve gotten up, but I opted to call out to her instead. “Chelle? I’ll take you up on that glass of wine after all.”

  *

  Ella contacted me several times over the next few days. She phoned rather than texting, which I assumed was because texting would’ve reminded me of why I was mad in the first place. Unluckily for her, no matter what method she used to reach me, there was no way I would or could forget.

  She left messages every time she called, which I deleted without listening to. I didn’t trust myself to hold strong if I heard her pleading for my forgiveness. I could steel myself against her when I was reading her words on a screen, but if I were to hear her desperate voice, I might’ve given in.

  And I wanted to give in. I wanted that more than anything. Being away from her was miserable, and everyone in my life had been commenting about how down I looked and how quiet I’d been. I missed Ella like a lock might miss its key. It felt wrong to not have her in my life, especially when I knew I could call her anytime and she’d be at my side in ten minutes.

  But I couldn’t do it. Every time I thought about it, I remembered the lies she’d told – not just one or two, but constant lies from the time we met up to the time she got caught.

  If she’d been honest at any point, maybe I could’ve forgiven her. But she didn’t even tell me the truth herself, her little sister did. That was the part that hurt the most.

  I almost expected her to come into Caffeine Hut, or to send Sam on her behalf. I bristled at the thought. They’d practically be stalking me if they did that. I composed speeches in my mind where I told them to go away and leave me alone – and I practiced them mentally because I knew I’d never be able to get the words out otherwise.

  But it wasn’t necessary. Ella never came, and neither did Sam, or any other member of the family. Aside from the phone calls, they were leaving me alone.

  As the days ticked by, Ella’s calls became less frequent. They came once a day instead of two or three times, and then a whole day went by without a call.

  She seemed to be giving up, which was what I wanted. The less she called, the less I’d have to hurt. And yet, the realization that she was giving up pained me, too. If she was really in love with me, wouldn’t she try harder than that?

  On Thursday, almost a full two weeks had passed since our break-up. I’d have to see Ella at the Pride committee meeting tomorrow. I sat on my bed, knees to my chest, and thought about not going. I couldn’t deal with seeing her. Even now that a little time had passed, the wound was still as fresh as ever. Seeing her in person, having her try to talk to me, would cut me open again. Maybe even deeper than before.

  I’d made a commitment to the Pride festival, though. It was bigger than either of us, bigger than our relationship. Another member of the marketing subcommittee had stopped showing up recently, and our responsibilities were growing as we got closer to the festival. The group needed me.

  My phone lit up with a call from Ella, and I collapsed onto my back as I let it ring. There was a good chance that she was also conscious that she’d see me tomorrow. At this point, she’d probably figured out I wasn’t going to take her back, and she was just calling to ask if we could be civil to each other at the meeting. Still, I let it ring, and when the phone beeped to indicate there was a new voicemail, I deleted it without listening. Again.

  I opened Facebook Messenger and found my conversation with Ian. Hey, I wrote. Going to the meeting tomorrow?

  I rolled onto my side and pressed my face into the pillow as I waited for his reply. My phone dinged a minute later.

  Of course. Aren’t you? he asked.

  I held my thumb above my phone screen, hesitating as I debated how to reply. I am, I finally said. I was just wondering because I could use your help. I need some distance between me and Ella. Could you make sure to sit between us?

  Now his response was instant. Why? She’s too hot to handle? Can’t control yourself when she’s around?

  Not exactly, I wrote. We split up, and we’re not exactly on good terms at the moment. Although she’d like to be, if you know what I mean.

  Somehow his next reply came even faster than the last one. Really?!?!?

  The next few messages came in a rapid torrent. I’m so sorry to hear that!

  I really thought you two were in it for the long haul.

  What happened?

  You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.

  But seriously, so sorry!

  I might’ve laughed if I hadn’t been so close to crying. I’ll explain everything later, I told him. Not quite up for it at the moment. I just need you to be a buffer between us.

  I’ll buffer like a YouTube video! he wrote. For real, I’m here for you for whatever you need. Just let me know.

  Thank you, I wrote.

  But there was nothing he could do about this hole in my heart.

  Twenty-Three – Ella

  If the Pride meeting had been anywhere other than my own library, I might not have gone. I already knew what I needed to do in terms of fundraising, and I could just update my subcommittee by email if I wanted to.

  But the meeting was right down the hall from the desk where I’d spent most of the day. I would’ve had to slink by, passing it on my way to the front door. I would’ve been more ashamed of myself for skipping the meeting than for going.

  Or maybe I was just dying to see Judi.

  I missed her. Her eyes, her voice, her hair, her face. I missed her serious debates and her teasing jokes. I even missed all the little things she did that annoyed me.

  I’d spent two straight weeks thinking about her every moment. I’d gone over and over what’d happened, remembering each step in the sequence that brought us to this point, and contemplating all the times I could’ve done something differently so that we would still be together.

  If I could see her again, maybe I could convince her to hear me out. And if not, at least I’d get to be in her presence for a little while. That might be the best I could get, and even if it wasn’t much, I’d take it. At least it’d be better than getting none of her at all.

  So I made my way to the boardroom a few minutes past the hour, showing up intentionally late so there’d be no chance of drama between us before the meeting. My eyes instinctively went to the spot where she usually sat. Ian was in her place, and he gave me a sympathetic look. My gut wrenched – had Judi not come? I glanced to the seat next to Ian, and she was there.

  Now I understood. She’d positioned him between us purposely. She didn’t want to be anywhere near me.

  I dropped into my seat, earning an annoyed glance from Todd at the head of the table. “If we could all try to be on time from now on…”

  “Right,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  I snuck a peek over at Judi as I opened my notebook. She looked even more gorgeous than she had in my memory – two weeks had been long enough to make me forget exactly how attractive she was. Her lips were fuller, her eyes were bluer – but her face showed no hint of the constant, slightly amused smile that had made me fall for her in the first place. Had it disappeared because of me?

  As Todd concluded his introduction and we broke into our subcommittees, I kept glancing over at Judi from time to time – so much that she must’ve felt my gaze on her. I would’ve thought she’d look at me sometimes, even if just by coincidenc
e, and yet I never caught her looking at me once. She must’ve been making a real effort to not look my way.

  When the meeting ended, I tried once more to catch her eye. She kept her head low as she packed up her stuff. She’d never look at me if I didn’t force her hand.

  I couldn’t take this anymore. “Judi, would you talk to me for one minute?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “Just one minute. That’s all I ask.”

  Ian stood, shielding her as if she needed protection. From me. “Judi doesn’t want to talk to you right now,” he told me.

  I stared at him. We’d known each other for years, and he was acting like I was a stranger. “She can speak for herself, can’t she?”

  “She doesn’t want to speak to you,” he said.

  “No, Ian, it’s okay.” Judi squeezed his arm. “You’ve been amazing, but I think it might be best if I do talk to Ella. Only for a minute.”

  “You have sixty seconds,” he said, looking at his watch as he backed a few feet away. “If she’s upset after this, Ella, I swear to God…”

  “Let us talk!” I snapped, then turned to Judi. Her eyes were wide, her lips a thin line. I wanted so badly to hold her and comfort her, but if I were to touch her right now, it’d do the exact opposite. “Look, I don’t know if you’ve been getting my messages.”

  “I haven’t.”

  “I want you to know how truly, deeply sorry I am. I never meant to hurt you at all. When I started messaging you, I liked you more than I ever expected. I forgot it was even supposed to be for Sam. I was already falling for you before I ever met you, before I even knew what you looked like. I kept trying to think of ways that I could keep talking to you even if things didn’t work out between you and my brother.”

  “And?” She licked her lips, her expression unchanged.

  Only two weeks ago, I would’ve had the right to lean in and kiss those perfect lips. I would’ve been able to press myself against her and feel every curve of her body. The world would’ve melted around us, and all our problems would’ve gotten better. But I’d lost the right to do any of that. She was off-limits to me now, and if I couldn’t convince her to take me back, she always would be.