Not Scared Anymore

Chapter 8 - Stephanie

Stephanie knocked on Denise's door with her duffel over one shoulder, holding the to-go boxes in front like a peace offering.

"What are you doing here, isn't Mark back tonight? Oh my god, did he propose? Wait, scratch that, if he did you wouldn't be here looking like you accidentally kicked a puppy..." Denise stepped aside and let Stephanie in. She dropped everything in the kitchen and went right into Denise's bedroom where she flopped on the bed and buried her head in the pillows.

"Did you seriously bring me an uneaten steak dinner? Awesome!"

Stephanie's response was muffled under the pillows. "Well, yes. He ruined my dinner so I stole his to eat it for breakfast. He's moving to Vancouver. Bring me the cheesecake!"

"HE'S WHAT?" Stephanie heard Denise's slippers shuffling across the floor to the bedroom. "Are you going to get changed first? Based on the face plant position, I am assuming the duffel contains clothes and that you will be staying here tonight?"

Stephanie turned her face towards her friend. "Is that okay? I had to get out of there. I couldn't stand to look at his stupid, perfect face for one more minute." Denise threw the duffel bag into the bedroom. Stephanie started to wiggle out of her dress and reached for the comfiest pajamas she owned.

"He was just so arrogant, I mean, he had the audacity to assume that I would just up and move to Vancouver with him to be his trophy housewife, except he hasn't actually asked me to marry him, so I would just be the pretty arm candy to go to fancy parties while he kisses butt until he finally makes partner. Apparently having me there speeds up the process."

"Hold up, I thought you said he was excited about your new job?"

"Oh no, if he's a partner I don't have to work, he'll make enough for the both of us! Plus, he already rented us a penthouse apartment, so it's all set, we just have to move our lives across the country, no big deal!" Stephanie was back on the bed and viciously stabbing at the cheesecake. Oh sweet baby Jesus that is good. I need to calm down or this will be ruined too.

Denise looked at her with a pitying, knowing look on her face. "So, if I'm following correctly, he's barely talked to you in the last two weeks because he's been so busy with work, and then he takes you out to a fancy dinner to tell you the 'good' news, hoping it would be the best dinner of your life, and you'd just look at him and say 'oh yes! I'd love nothing more than to give up everything I know and love to sit in a fancy apartment and wait for you to come home late every day!'" She flopped down on the bed beside Stephanie and took a bite of cheesecake as well.

Stephanie continued with a mouthful of cheesecake, "Oh, did I forget to mention the best part? I can plan little parties and weddings and things in my spare time, and 'Be my own boss' like I've always wanted!" She crammed another bite of cheesecake in her mouth.

"I can't believe I thought he was going to propose tonight. And I was going to say yes. But how can I build a life with someone who thinks that they can make these life changing decisions without discussing them BEFORE they leave the hypothetical stage, and someone who clearly thinks that my dream is less important than theirs?

"I just don't know what to do. Yesterday, I thought I had life made. I love Mark and want to be with him." Stephanie's eyes filled with tears, and she wiped them away before they could fall. "Now everything has fallen apart in a ten-minute conversation. I'm scared of losing him. I don't know what to do."

Denise considered her for a moment. "I haven't seen that broken look in your eye since you were eight years old. Do you want me to be brutally honest with you right now, or just rub your back while you think this through on your own?"

"Brutally honest best friend, please. I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"Absolutely not, but you asked for it. And I want you to know, that I love you no matter what, as much as it might not seem so with what I'm about to say." Denise hunkered down further on the bed, so they were facing each other in the fetal position, and put both of their forks aside with the cheesecake.

"You deserve the best of everything. When you first met Mark, yes, he was the best. He was sweet and kind and generous. It absolutely made sense that you fell head over heels in love with him. Heck, we all did. You were THE couple."

She smiled softly at Stephanie. "Then he became a 'real' lawyer. He bought a Mercedes with his signing bonus. He still carries student debt because he only makes minimal payments, but he buys a new designer suit every other month. When was the last time you saw him eat candy? Or just relax and be lazy? He is always on his phone, and he literally panics if it is more than ten feet away from him at any time." She reached for Stephanie's hand before continuing.

"You say he just doesn't like to celebrate or show emotion in front of others, and especially not his colleagues, but I call bullshit on that. If you are a team, your wins are his wins too, and that's a reason to celebrate no matter who's around. So what if his coworkers know you got an awesome new job? New jobs are good things. He thinks his dream is the important one, because his dream means a big paycheck to help him buy more status symbols. He is slowly trying to change different parts of you to fit that mold. I mean, who dislikes sweat pants? Sadists. Sadists don't like sweat pants."

Stephanie protested, "he's not actually a sadist and you know that."

"Yeah, fine. Not literally, but your bathroom has more hair products in it than my hair salon, and I know you don't use more than four of them. The guy irons his jeans. His jeans! That's just wrong." She rolled onto her back.

"If he had asked, and you said yes to marrying him today, he would continue doing these things, and it would only get worse. As his wife, the expectations would grow, and you'd lose your own identity and career. When the kids come around, you become a stay at home Mom, but you'd be stay at home Mom who also has a nanny, because you have to go to all the events and socialize with the other wives. You'd wear designer clothes, and your life would be a perfect magazine spread all the time." Denise sat up and faced Stephanie.

"I'm guessing that tomorrow he is going to show up here, and he's going to look down his nose at me and the mess of this place, and he'll see you in the messy sweats and say he loves you and those things don't matter to him. He will say all the right things, and if you aren't ready for that, you will fall for it all, because he is a lawyer. A good lawyer. Being a good lawyer means you make other people believe what you are saying so you win. Lawyering is all about winning. He knows he screwed up, and he is going to try to win you back."

Stephanie was crying by this point, but Denise continued, "if he doesn't come to try and win you back, then it truly is his loss to just give up like that, because you are amazing. But I hope he comes, and when he does, you need to stay strong and don't let him win without fighting for yourself. Your dreams do not get to take a back seat to his just because his come with a bigger paycheck. Your happiness is worth more than any number in a bank account." With that, Stephanie was bawling, and Denise held her close and patted her back.

"But I still love him." Stephanie's voice was barely above a whisper.

"I know you do. But I can see the hurt in your eyes. That's why this is so hard."

The quiet between them was broken by Stephanie's sniffles and choked back howls as she tried to stop the gut wrenching sobs. She thought the pain would never end.

"You know what," Stephanie hiccupped, "you're right. He doesn't get to make me feel guilty about wanting to do my own things. I am a strong and independent woman, and I don't need no man telling me what to do!"

"Damn right! You go girl!" Denise was grinning at her now. They'd been using corny encouragements like that on each other since they were twelve years old. Wiping her eyes and resolving her decision, Stephanie sat up and pulled the cheesecake towards them. It was delicious, and Mark didn't deserve anything that good. Not like he'd even eat something with so much fat and sugar.