ALISON

The papers summarized in a nutshell that Cole wanted nothing from me, nor did he want to give anything to me. He didn't own any property except his car, so it was in my favor that he forfeited his right to have half of this place. The ground for divorce was written as bereavement upon parental loss, not infidelity. However, the lawyer had appended a list of possible exhibits and witnesses of infidelity that could be used, should no divorce settlement occurs and we go to court. Looked like Oscar really did a number on me. Bastard.

Throughout this reading exercise, I was hearing them casually converse in the bedroom while packing his stuff into carton boxes. Jade would make a comment about an item and Cole would tell its story. Then Jade would empathize…aaand, scene. Sticky. They were bonding in my bedroom, literally behind my back, while I was reading the divorce papers that would set me aside.

I didn't have time to stop myself before yelling "Hey Jade? Would you come here for a second?" Neutral enough. I imagined that Cole would have looked at her protectively like a fucking Disney prince. She'd probably raise an eyebrow at him that she could handle it. I bet the imagery I created was spot on.

Jade approached me with an open facial expression. "What's up, Alison? You wanna talk? Let's walk at the beach for a minute." The bitch was ready, as always, and I was acting on impulse, as always. Did people never change?! Fuck. The only way I could get her to leave was to repeat history; to convince her that her relationship to Cole was shaky at best. Because let's face it; there isn't really a palpable reason for anyone to love her.


JADE

I got up from the floor and put a hand on Cole's head, told him it'd be OK. After offering Alison a walk, I let out a deep breath and followed her in descending the stairs the beach side of the cabin; not for the first time.

Alison's grandmother had once given me a piece of bread dipped in spiced olive oil right below these stairs. I had never had one before. I still remember its taste, the single hot pepper flake that tingled a spot on my tongue, being surprised at how that small piece of bread instantly quenched my hunger after a long summer day of adventure and swimming, while Alison's mother was screaming at the top of her lungs at her for bringing sand in the house – in a house in a sand beach. Alison's mother really didn't like her, I reminisced. And her Grams was a saint, or is, if she still lives.

I remember descending these stairs for the last time, throwing around the daisies that laid Cole and Alison's path towards the priest who married them. I remember Cole doing every cute move he knew how to do to convince me to throw those daisies. I remember feeling by the end of the path that I would die if I had to throw one more.

No matter the wording Cole chose to use, this was his and her cabin, their cabin and their beach. They lived together in this small space for 11 years. Shared worries and happiness. Their old spring mattress caved in right in the middle, at the spot their bodies always lay together. His effort to make it look like he got past all this within two weeks seemed almost unnatural. Not that I thought he was deceiving me. I was mourning for the time he would notice he was deceiving himself with me.

So I followed Alison.

She opened her arms at the increasing wind speed the closer we got to the sea. Looking carefree as always, the skirt of her dress blowing up to her waist, her hair in a whirl. It was as if she felt more confident when dancing against whichever way the wind blew. It was almost poetic. She was someone people wrote books about. If she wasn't the woman who was flying on the wind with her life spread out, she wouldn't have lived through loss the way she had. Destroying anything and anyone in her way. Agitated at how unaffected she was by the people around her. Sticking a knife in them just so she could feel something. She had been my muse for so many years. She was the person I decidedly wasn't. Around whom people flocked like moths. Ironically, moths flock around light because they can't see much. To ones who could see, Alison's light was unpleasant, disturbing even. Not because it was too bright, but because it refracted in all the wrong angles, forming haloes that circled her shortcomings. She was a bad person because she just was. How could one blame her for being herself?

While listening to my brain write yet another essay on Alison, I noticed that I had analyzed her enough. Knew her triggers more than she did mine; because she was loud and I was silent, she was reckless and I was attentive, she was concieted and I was humble, she hadn't changed and I had. No matter how she approached me now, I could hold my head high. She had taught me enough. So I let her lead.

We walked east. She said, "Remember third grade spring term? How we became friends? The boys would surround me and lift up my skirt during breaks and chant about my underwear. The third time it happened, you stomped right in between and yelled at them to leave me alone, told them they should be ashamed because they were disgusting. Then you went to their houses and snitched to their parents one by one. I hadn't asked for your help, just like Cole hadn't asked for your interference a week ago. Those boys didn't speak to me for years because of you. Now you alienate Cole from me. A week ago he wanted to impregnate me because he loves me that much, no matter what you are trying to do. He wanted to bring yet another piece of us to the world. If he didn't love me, he wouldn't be trying to divorce me this fast. He's clearly hurting deeply and trying to punish me, thanks to you."

She didn't beat around the bush, did she? "For a straight arrow like you, concealing your love for him for so long must have been difficult. I can see why you couldn't bear to look at us, witness our happiness, see in his eyes how much he wanted me. If I were in your place, I wouldn't be able to treat me as decently as you have. I practically stole him from you."

I disagreed. "Nobody can steal anyone from anyone. It doesn't work that way."

She smiled in ridicule. "Oh, darling, it does…over time. You just don't know how to, so you assume others can't, either. I think I did the right thing, though."

I raised an eyebrow, "How come?"

"Because he'd never love you the way he loved me. Cole needs someone exciting. He'd go crazy in a domestic life, weekly supermarket visits, 10 pm sleepy time. He doesn't understand much from the arts, he sees most of it as a waste of time. He likes working with his hands, wants to live and die in Montauk, repairing wobbly furniture and reading one book every two years. The way you live would get to him very quickly. I give your current fling 9 months maximum, till the sex hype is over. You've got a great body even though you wouldn't know how to use it to save your life. You're really quite boring for someone like him; your life's made up of accounting, waitressing, cleaning horse manure, and brooding. Nevertheless, he's excited now. I can see that." God, she was such a horrible person. Stabbing me with a serrated knife. It would hurt a lot less if she wasn't partially right. Alison was a pro in half-truths.

She wasn't done, though. "What do I do with your righteous ass? Your pixie looks and dull behavior is even more effective on him right now, because he sees you as a manifestation of purity, a harbor to hide away from me, my opposite. He's just with you because you're not me. But how can I compete with that now? Yes, he'll miss me in a couple of months, but how can I draw out this stupid divorce period till he's bored of you? You've helped him; it's only fair that you help me now, you owe me. You seem to have an answer to everything, just tell me how he won't divorce me. Make him retract it."

I had to hold on, keep my cool. "Which is it? Is he a boring, cultureless local man with a repair hobby, or is he an excitement chaser who lives on the edge? You should choose one, because you're contradicting yourself. Don't you know him at all? He is neither of those people. Secondly, how can you say with a straight face that you want him back, while you're still with that Noah Solloway guy? I would do my best to understand you, empathize, even help you if you had come back to Cole, having seen the error of your ways. Hell, I'd even mediate. But you were literally just fucking Noah yesterday afternoon!" Alison was surprised that I knew. The Butlers' maid was a friend of mine. Two years ago we had gone through the fiasco of trying to organize a book club in this town. Nobody showed up, so we had humorous solidarity between us; we called ourselves culture guerillas.

"Let's say I am boring and his only wish from a life partner is excitement because he is that superficial. I still don't care if I have him or not. I wouldn't construct my life with him around posessing him. So, let him leave me in 9 months, even 6. As long as he's not with you anymore, it'll be a gain for him. I'd rather have him find someone better than either of us, because unlike you, I do love him and want what's best for him.

"About alienating Cole from you… I'm not surprised by your attempt to warp reality so that you can come out of it stainless. The fault is with your cheating. Not with me, who exposed it. I'm not going to enter a pissing contest with you, but Cole chose to stay with me himself. I'm not manipulative and I intend to remain that way. You are seething because you can only make peoplelove you by force. Have your words back; you just don't know any other way, so you assume others gain love by bartering, too. Because nobody loved you unconditionally, the way every child deserves. Say hi to your mother from me next time you see her. The abandonment issues she crafted in you are impeccable; every single behavior you display is textbook Antisocial Personality Disorder. As a person who tried to be your friend for a long time, I will never forgive her for destroying you like this. But who knows, maybe you were born this way and that's why your mother fleed to find a semblance of mental health. By the way, here's how I know you're not normal: Instead of trying to get some alone time with your husband to fix things as you claim you want to, you chose to waste all this time to try and 'roast' me, as people say nowadays. Tried to break me psychologically, as if that's going to bring him back to you.

"If you want Cole to wait for a while before filing for divorce, simply tell him so instead of trying to devise ways to manipulate his decision out of him. Tell him that you both will be sure he wants this separation if he gives himself time to think. Ask for 6 months. What does he have to lose? Ask him to remain friends with you, see you from time to time instead of cutting you off like a gangrenous arm. That's how you can give this a chance and it's that easy. Now, if you're out of insults to dump on my head, I'll go and help Cole pack."