Stephanie's first week at her new job was an absolute whirlwind. Deciding it was best not to move out the night before her first day, she had stayed in the apartment. Mark was going to be busy at work until he went back to Vancouver, so he made himself scarce and slept at the office a few times, coming home only when he knew she would be at work. When he was home for the night, he slept on the couch.
Stephanie was starting the apartment hunt on her own. Mark offered her the condo since it would be so convenient for work, but Stephanie wanted something more affordable on her own. Plus, it was mostly his style, not hers. She needed a fresh start.
On Friday, she packed a bag and moved in with Denise for the weekend. Mark was taking the weekend off, and he would be home most of the time. Stephanie recalled Mark's exact words the night before were, "I need to decompress, because this has been awful on me too, you know. I just need to be somewhere that isn't my office" and she elected to give him the place to himself for three nights. She couldn't bear a whole weekend with their mutual sadness and hurt pulling between them like a stretched elastic band, ready to snap and and bring tears to their eyes with its sting.
Stephanie and Denise were going apartment hunting. They saw three duds, and one with promise. It was the second floor of a duplex, looking out on a nice park, had a walk-in closet, a big washroom, a kitchen with an island and new appliances, a small office, and in-suite laundry. Unfortunately, it also had horribly painted walls with hundreds of nail holes no one had even attempted to fill properly.
The agent representing the owner, however, could not answer any of their questions, so it wasn't an overly successful viewing in the end. They set up a second showing for Sunday afternoon, and provided the agent a list of questions they would need answered at that time.
Back at Denise's, it was pasta and movie night, and only chick flicks were in the line up. As they said eight years previous when the tradition started, 'the cheesier the better, just like the pasta!'
They were both asleep on the couch before the first movie ended.
*
They woke up early and decided to go for a run to the park and back. It was about five kilometers round trip, and they rewarded themselves with a brunch date. Unlike her runs with Mark where they would go to a juice bar while still sweaty, this was followed by a proper shower, and then waffles drowning in whipped cream and strawberry sauce. It was heaven.
In the evening, a small group of friends joined them for board game night. Occasionally, such nights would get very rowdy, but it took on a bit of a subdued tone once the ordeal with Mark was brought up. Everyone was very supportive. The group had only met him once when he came to pick Stephanie up from a game night, back when they had first moved in together. On the ride home that night, he had quietly asked Stephanie not to host game nights at their place. Hopes were high that Stephanie might find a place suitable for hosting in the future.
When the party folded at midnight, everyone was feeling sleepy, and Stephanie was feeling pretty good. She had actually won three of the games they played, and didn't feel guilty about eating any of the junk food Denise provided. She changed back into her comfy sweats as soon as everyone left, pulled out her phone and opened her email as she flopped on the couch.
One email in particular caught her eye, from one of Mark's best friends. He had always treated her coolly, kept his distance, and didn't make any effort to chat with her except to be condescending. She had always gotten the impression that he disliked her, so she steeled herself for what it might say, expecting the worst.
Stephanie,
So sorry to hear about you and Mark. The news shocked me to my core. I couldn't believe when Mark told me he was going to Vancouver without you. How are you coping?
I'm sure you have a lot going on right now, but please, if you ever feel the need to talk about it, don't hesitate to get in touch. As a friendly face to chat with, or a shoulder to cry on, I'm always here for you.
Yours,
David
Confused, she really didn't know whether to email back or to just ignore it completely. She felt she should acknowledge it, she considered him an acquaintance after all. After four drafts that all sounded either too sarcastic or overly inviting, she gave up, flopping over on the couch and not even bothering to go to Denise's spare room. She needed David to stay right where he was in her life: barely in it and completely out of bounds. She had always seen through his charm, so she figured it shouldn't be that big of a deal; it would blow over quickly.
*
She slept in late and had to rush to get back to the duplex viewing on time. With answers to all of their questions, it seemed like a good place. It was close to the subway too, which meant she wouldn't have to drive downtown everyday, and the monthly transit pass was much cheaper than parking would be.
Stephanie was proud of herself for negotiating a lower monthly rate just by saying she was going to have to fill all the nail holes and repaint the entire apartment to make it livable. The landlord went to prepare the paper work, and she pulled out her phone to make a call.
"I found a new place!" There was an awkward pause on the other end of the line, so she elaborated, "you know, to live in."
"Yes honey, I figured that's what you meant. So quickly though? Are you sure it's the right place for you?"
"Yes Mom, I just need to do some painting, but it's a house, not a condo tower, it's across the street from a little park, and easy to get to the subway. I'm really excited about it!"
"Why don't you just stay where you are though?"
"Well, it's Mark's condo. I can't live there now."
"Why not?"
"Because, we broke up...?" She spluttered.
"Well, you said he's thinking about going to Vancouver."
"Not thinking about. Definitely moving. Without me."
"Well, why not stay where you are then? I know you're upset and you think you need space from him right now, and you'll get it. And then you won't have made any hasty decisions. And if you change your mind it's not so difficult to go back to how things were."
Stephanie took a deep breath, trying to smooth out the creases on her forehead. They'd been over the whole situation multiple times, but her Mom refused to accept it.
"Mom, I'm not the one who made the hasty decision. He did. That's why it's never going to work between us."
"I just think you should give him another shot."
"No."
"But Stephanie, you're perfect together. He loves you, and you've broken his heart. I know you're hurting too. Why not put both of you out of your misery?"
"No. Why won't you accept it? I'm trying to move on. I can't do that if I'm still in our apartment all the time, which is officially in his name."
"But moving is such a hassle. I'm sure he'd let you stay."
"Yeah, he would. But I need to move. For me. I've made my decision, and it's final."
"Stephanie-"
"Sorry Mom, I've got to go. I'm signing paperwork now. I'll send you my new address and you can come and see it when I'm settled. Love you."
"I love you too, baby girl."
With the paperwork signed and deposit paid, Denise and Stephanie went shopping. A lot of the furniture had been Mark's when they moved in, or bought together. She still had to talk to him about what he wanted to do with it, whether he was going to move anything to Vancouver or not, but she had to start thinking about painting.
"That off-white everywhere is so depressing! I need colour in my life, and not just four slightly different shades of grey like we had in the condo."
The paint store was the first stop, and Stephanie left with 15 different paint chips in her bag and a container of Spackle for filling the holes. Then, they moved on to find new bedding and linens, determined to find something that wasn't boring. She picked out just about the most multicoloured duvet she could, and found pillows and sheets in mix and match colours.
"I definitely forgot how much fun colours are."
"Right? Did Mark even know this many colours existed?" Denise agreed, but continued hesitantly, "you don't think you're over doing it though? You've got about 6 different colours and patterns here..."
"No, its all good, I know what I'm doing" She didn't, but she wasn't going to let that stop her. "I think I might keep the walls of the bedroom fairly neutral, then all of this can pop! Do you think painting my furniture is going too far? I mean, I don't think so, but I'll have to decide once I get all this in there."
Denise knew there was no way to stop her then.
"So, should I go with white bedroom walls, or black? If I do black, everything bright will really stand out."
"Black is too dramatic. I'd go white. Or pick one of these colours to match."
"Hmm, we'll see."
"And, before you go buying absolutely everything, you should probably talk to Mark and figure out what stuff you will take with you. Yes, you can buy new things, but don't buy everything if you don't have to."
Stephanie felt reality hit her then. "You're right. This is why I needed you to be the voice of reason today. But I definitely need a new bed."
"Great, let's go get you one of those!"
They got to the mattress store, and decided the best test they could do was a flop test, so they flopped on as many beds as possible before a salesperson rushed over to help them. She loved the bed she had shared with Mark; it was the comfiest mattress she had ever slept on, but it was the one thing she absolutely would not take. She needed to move on, and that would be impossible if she was always remembering the sexy slope of his shoulder and contours of his muscles when he laid beside her.
An hour later, Stephanie had picked out a new bed and told Denise she felt like a whole new person. She tried to keep her smile from slipping, certain that if anyone looked close enough, they'd shatter the illusion. She was 25 years old and felt like she was doing life backwards all of a sudden.