One Last Glass to Myself

1: 1

The day tickets went on sale for the concert of the idol we'd loved for ten years, neither my husband nor I managed to snag a pair.

The next day, my mother-in-law showed up at our door with groceries. Oh, well, she said, if you couldn't get tickets, just skip it.

Celeste Swanson is three months pregnant. She should be resting. Once the baby's off to college, there'll be plenty of chances to go out and have fun.

I said nothing.

But the concert crept closer, one day at a time,

and in the end I couldn't help it. I quietly bought a scalped ticket and went.

At the gate, though, the first thing I saw was my husband, smiling as he sat with my best friend while she got her hair and makeup done.

She was playing coy. "Percy, if Celeste found out you came with me, wouldn't she be upset?"

My husband pinched her cheek. "Silly. She won't find out."

"It's a rare thing, a concert like this. I just want to sit next to the person I actually like."

"Celeste's morning sickness has been terrible lately, playing the delicate little wife every single day. Funny how she suddenly had the energy the second a concert came up. I'm not about to indulge that nasty little habit of hers."

I gripped the glow stick in my hand.

I'm so sorry my morning sickness has been so bad.

It won't happen again.

...

The lights dimmed, until nothing was left but a single spotlight on the idol in the center of the stage.

I'd already decided this concert would be my last farewell to my girlhood.

The opening song began.

I sat in a corner of the stands, holding the cheap glow stick the scalper had shoved into my hand at the entrance.

The venue was so big that even in the same room,

I still felt so far away from him.

The blaring sound and the stale, airless space only made me feel worse.

I fought down the urge to throw up and dragged myself in a fog through two hours of it.

Then came the song-dedication segment,

and the camera on the big screen started roaming at random across the crowd.

"Stop!" the idol called out.

The picture froze.

On the big screen were the faces of my best friend, Lottie Barnes, and my husband, Percival Floyd.

Her headband was sparkling, her makeup pretty and sweet, her expression all delighted surprise.

Percival had an arm around her shoulders and waved at the camera.

The idol laughed. "Handsome guy, you brought your girlfriend to the concert? What do you want to hear?"

Percival took the mic. He didn't correct anything, didn't say Lottie wasn't his girlfriend.

His voice went soft.

"I'd like to dedicate a song to the girl I love most. 'Favoritism.'"

"She's been through so many hard days with me. Today I want her to be the happiest person in this whole place."

It was my favorite song.

Back in college, every time we went to karaoke, Percival would sing it.

Lottie and I would sit beside him and listen.

Not once, back then, had it crossed my mind that the song might not have been for me at all.

And now here I was, tucked in a corner, watching the two of them lean into each other on the big screen.

My stomach turned over again, worse than before.

I stood up and all but fled the venue.

When I got home, there was a takeout bag sitting outside the door.

Percival had messaged me. *Babe, I'm still away on my business trip. Ordered you some bird's nest soup, don't forget to eat it.*

He'd sent a photo too, of a little hotel dining table.

On it were spicy Buffalo wings, a plate of hot chili chicken, and a basket of Cajun crawfish.

He'd been careful. Every dish was arranged close to him, and there was only one set of silverware.

Creating the illusion that he was eating alone.

But he'd forgotten I know he doesn't eat spicy food.

All of that was Lottie's taste.

I opened the takeout bag he'd ordered for me.

The plastic bag had *Wellness Superfood Porridge* printed on it in cheap red letters, and the receipt showed he'd paid three dollars and twenty cents.

The so-called superfood porridge was nothing but a bowl of plain oatmeal with sugar stirred in.

It must have cost him some effort, digging up a place in a major city that would deliver for three dollars and twenty cents.

I set the takeout down and opened my chat app, tapping into Percival's profile.

His page was a single flat line.

I tapped Lottie's. The same flat line.

They'd both blocked me at the same time.

I closed the chat app and opened my social feed.

The very first video was one Lottie had posted.

It was that exact moment from the concert, the shot that had played on the big screen.

The caption read: *Getting favored by the person I love most. So happy~*

The location tag was a five-star hotel next to the venue.

The comments were full of her friends.

*Oh my god, Lottie, that's so romantic!*

*Percy's so good to you.*

*That washed-up hag Celeste actually thinks she deserves a concert? No matter how hard she copies, she's still trash.*

I rushed into the bathroom and hunched over the toilet, dry-heaving.

I lifted my head and looked at myself in the mirror.

My hair was carelessly tied back, a few loose strands stuck to my forehead.

My lips were cracked and peeling.

Under my eyes, a gray-blue shadow.

I was wearing a loose, shapeless dress.

To protect the pregnancy, I'd stopped using every bit of skincare and makeup.

Every day I endured the endless nausea and vomiting.

Whenever my mother-in-law came by, it was always the same few lines. "Every woman's like this when she's pregnant. Just grit your teeth and it'll pass."

But Percival would push back at her, saying being pregnant wasn't easy for me.

I never could have imagined he'd treat me this way behind my back.

I took a deep breath and booked the abortion at the hospital.

2: 2

The next afternoon, Percival came home.

He let out an exaggerated sigh. "Babe, I'm wiped out. This trip gave me a splitting headache from all the meetings."

He touched my belly, then pulled out a bag.

"I knew you were bummed about missing it. One of my coworkers actually scored some concert merch, so I grabbed it off him right away. You like it?"

I glanced inside. A commemorative concert T-shirt.

"Sure." I nodded.

Seeing how flat I was, Percival patted my cheek.

"Still down about it? Nothing we could do if we couldn't get tickets."

"Once I make it big, I'll fly that singer out here to sing for you one-on-one."

Just then the door opened, and Lottie poked her head in, grinning.

She'd always known our door code.

Dressed to the nines, she made a beeline for the couch and plopped down right next to me.

"Celeste! I came to see you!"

She pulled a tub of pink-and-green ice cream out of a dessert bag.

"Got you that ice cream that's blowing up online right now. Go on, try it!"

Guava flavor.

Percival loved guava. And I hated fruit like that, with its strange, mouth-drying tang, more than anything.

Lottie had been our friend for seven years. There was no way she didn't know.

I shook my head. "I don't want any. You have it."

Percival laughed. "You've got no idea how much of a hick she is. She won't even touch anything new like this."

"Never mind, you eat it. I'll pick her up some of those little pudding cups later. Those she likes."

Fifty-cent pudding cups.

Back in college, Percival once said he wanted to buy me ice cream.

I hated seeing him work so hard for that money, so I told him I liked the little pudding cups instead.

And just like that, I became the kind of person who only rated pudding cups.

Lottie looked at the ice cream, then at Percival, and cheerfully started eating.

Halfway through, she made a face.

"Percy, I can't finish it. I only got the big size on purpose, because I figured Celeste would want some."

"Oh, right, do you remember" She giggled like something had just come back to her. "Graduation day, Celeste ate a whole braised pork knuckle by herself! Ha! Out of all the girls in our class, she could put it away the best."

"Nothing wrong with a good appetite. You should take a page from Celeste and put on a little weight yourself."

As he said it, Percival gave Lottie's soft, boneless arm a squeeze.

Lottie scrunched her nose, playing coy, and swirled what was left of the ice cream. "Percy, what do we do about this?"

Percival took it from her hand, scooped up a big spoonful, and shoved it into his mouth. "What else? Hand it off to me, the human trash can."

I watched him.

But he'd always said he was a germophobe.

He wouldn't touch a drink I'd already sipped. Called it dirty. Not one mouthful.

So it turned out he just found me disgusting.

"Lottie, there's a huge chunk of coconut jelly right here. Get it while it's good."

Percival scooped the coconut jelly with the same spoon he'd just used and held it out to Lottie's mouth like it was the most natural thing in the world,

and Lottie, without the slightest hesitation, closed her lips right over that spoon again.

I remembered the time I'd bought fried chicken and wanted, sweetly, to share the same piece with Percival.

In front of all our friends, he'd turned his head away in distaste, said he didn't want any, and told me to just toss whatever I couldn't finish.

I couldn't hold it in anymore. I asked, "The two of you are eating one ice cream together?"

3: 3

Percival frowned, watching me with an edge of displeasure. "Celeste, since when did you get so suspicious of everything?"

"The three of us have hung out together since college, all these years. What's the big deal about sharing a bite of ice cream?"

Lottie put on her own wounded, innocent look.

"Right, Celeste. If Percy and I actually had something going on, we'd have gotten together back in college."

Right. We were college classmates. Seven years of friendship.

Back then, Percival, Lottie, and I were all in the campus radio club.

I joined first, and later Lottie said she joined too, just to keep me company.

Lottie knew I liked Percival.

He was cheerful, always joking around, always yanking girls' hair.

It sounds ridiculous now, but I bought the best-smelling shampoo and hair mist,

all in the hope that Percival might come tug on my braid.

Lottie went out of her way to push us together, finding chances to seat me next to him.

But I was too shy and too scared, hardly able to look him in the eye.

I could only watch Lottie roughhouse with him without a care.

I poured all my secret feelings into scripts and read them on the radio club broadcast.

Little by little, the whole school knew the radio club had a talented girl who wrote beautifully.

Christmas of junior year, Percival crossed half the campus through a sky full of snow, carrying a bouquet of red roses, and confessed to me.

My head went blank. I asked him, "Are you really confessing to me? I thought you liked Lottie..."

He pulled me into his arms, his voice gentle. "Silly. Why would I ever like a girl like her?"

"Lottie's too much of a show-off, and she's high-maintenance. I only like you. You're quiet and understanding. You're the one I want to spend my life with."

Back then I was drowning in happiness, believing every word.

Quiet and understanding.

Those four words turned into a leash I've worn for seven years.

Because of those four words, I made allowances for Lottie more times than I could count.

I let it slide when she called Percival in the middle of the night to come pick her up. I let it slide when she got sick and he stayed at her side all night.

There was even one New Year's Eve when we were playing a game,

and Percival actually dug up the diary where I'd written about my crush on him, and read it out loud right in front of Lottie.

I was mortified and furious, and the two of them just roared with laughter.

What did he ever think my feelings for him were worth?

"I'm tired. I want to go lie down for a while." I stood up.

"Go on, go on, get some rest." Percival waved me off, then turned to Lottie. "So, the two of us hit that new sushi place tonight? You've been going on about it for days."

"Yes, yes!" Lottie clapped happily.

I got up quietly, walked into the bedroom, and shut the door.

That sushi place. I'd made a reservation there ages ago.

But Percival kept putting me off with one excuse after another, dragging it out until now.

Three years together, one year married,

and we'd never once eaten a proper meal at a decent restaurant.

Did he just not want to go, or did he not want to go with me?

The thought pushed me past what I could stand, and I finally opened the door and walked back out.

4: 4

I forced a calm smile.

"I've thought about it. Let's all go get sushi together after all."

For a second the air went quiet.

Percival and Lottie traded a look.

Percival smiled at me. "What made you change your mind? Weren't you just saying you were tired?"

I only murmured, "Mm."

Lottie cleared her throat. "Then then you two go. I'm always the third wheel between you. Celeste's obviously upset. I'll just head home."

Percival clicked his tongue, glanced at Lottie, then turned back to me.

"Fine, then we'll eat here. Lottie and I will go pick up some groceries and cook. You rest, Celeste."

Listen to him.

As if the two of them were the loving married couple,

and I was just some distant relative who needed to be entertained.

That was when Percival's phone rang.

"Good afternoon, sir. This is Pinewood Sushi."

"The cake you custom-ordered for Miss Barnes just arrived at the restaurant. Would you like us to keep it chilled in the fridge for now?"

I heard every word of it.

Percival scrambled to hang up, his eyes darting away.

I looked at him calmly and asked, my voice soft, "What was that?"

"What cake for Miss Barnes?"

Percival cleared his throat and explained, "Celeste, don't get the wrong idea. Lottie just bought a new dress, and she kept insisting we throw the dress a birthday party"

I let out a short laugh. "A birthday party for a dress?"

"You know how she is, she's got a kid's temper, never grows up. As her friends, we just play along."

I looked at him.

So now he could be understanding.

Back when we were newlyweds, on my birthday, I saw a cup with little bunny ears I wanted to buy. What had he said then?

He'd laughed, half-joking, that a grown woman trying to act cute was embarrassing,

that the older you got the more shameless it was to still make a fuss over a birthday.

And when it was Lottie, suddenly it was a kid's temper that deserved company.

Percival tried to smooth the whole thing over. "Enough. I'll call my mom over to make you some pregnancy meals. You stay home and behave, all right?"

"I'm doing this for your own good. Sushi's all cold and raw. It'll only upset your stomach."

I stayed where I was and didn't back down. "I can order the cooked things. Sushi places have tempura. They have sukiyaki."

Percival heard that and his brow shot up. "Celeste, can you not be so backwoods?"

"Ordering cooked food at a sushi place? Cooked salmon, are you serious? You'd only be wasting the food."

"I'm going today." I stared at him and said it word by word.

Percival froze.

In seven years, I had never once spoken to him in that tone.

Lottie saw it and hurried to her feet, catching Percival's arm.

"Percy, don't be angry with Celeste. You two go eat. It's all my fault, I shouldn't have brought up the birthday thing"

Her stepping back only enraged him completely.

He swept her behind him, and the look in his eyes when he turned to me was pure disgust.

He said over his shoulder to Lottie, "Don't mind her. This stupid bitch is all over the place with her pregnancy hormones, acting like a lunatic every day, paranoid about everything. I've spoiled her rotten!"

The word went through me. I stared at him, unable to believe it.

Stupid bitch.

This was the man who had stood in the snow holding roses, saying he wanted to spend his whole life with me.

Then he fixed me with an ice-cold stare.

"Celeste, such a small thing, and you just have to make a scene, don't you?"

"Let me tell you, I'm not taking you today, and that's final!"

He grabbed the car keys and pulled Lottie with him toward the door.

"Percy, this isn't right, doing this to Celeste" Lottie's voice came from outside.

"Who cares. I've let her get away with too much."

The security door slammed shut.

I was the only one left in the living room.

Percival texted me. *You made me lose face in front of Lottie. There's nothing I could do.*

*I bought sukiyaki broth and beef. I'll have my mom cook it for you. Be good.*

I didn't reply.

I just packed a few clothes and booked myself a very expensive sushi restaurant.

Ordered a whole table of sashimi, took a photo, and posted it to my feed.

The next morning, the time for my scheduled procedure arrived.

I was standing in the hospital when Percival called, beside himself.

"What is wrong with you?"

"I told you not to eat raw food and you ate it anyway. You take care of yourself this badly, what's going to happen to the baby?"

I glanced at the exam room and answered calmly, "There is no baby anymore."