helpless (Lams)

The Break-Up Chapter

A collab with _lafayeet_

...

ALEXANDER HAMILTON

SUNDAY, JUNE 18

Had it really already been three years since Thomas and I had been together? That's what the floral calendar hung up above my desk with a bright green thumbtack says. I remember the first time I saw his face; I have never been the same.

And today, I planned on showing him just how much I love him by asking him to marry me.

See, everything is perfect in our world—it only makes sense for us to get married at one point or another. We both have well-paying jobs, a sizable apartment in the Upper East Side, and we hardly ever argue (minus our pleasant morning political debates).

And me—

I'm slowly learning to forget.

I smiled at the two plates packed with stewed saltfish with coconut dumplings and spiced plantains sitting on the small table in the middle of the kitchen, proud of my pretty damn decent cooking skills when the front door swung open. I looked up to see Thomas, with his lips set in a firm line. This can't be good.

"Hi, baby," I greeted him with a smile. He smiled back, but it didn't reach his eyes. "What's the matter?" Thomas brushed past me to the fridge and pulled out a can of beer, cracking it open.

"Listen," he said, his face serious. He avoided eye contact with me while he spoke. "I need to tell you something." he sipped his beer, then wiped the bubbly foam from his lip.

"Tommy-" I reached out to touch his toned arm, but he moved away.

"I don't think we should see each other anymore." he finally looked at me, as if he wanted to predict what I was going to say next. But I didn't say anything—for the first time in my entire twenty-two (and a half) years on this earth, I was speechless.

"Why...why not?" I asked carefully. Thomas lets\ out a big sigh rubbing the back of his head.

"My parents...they don't exactly approve of us," he said.

"But why? What have I possibly done wrong?"

"It's not you as a person, Alex. It's because they don't want me dating..." he paused, unsure of how to phrase it. I know where this is going now.

"A Jew'?" I cocked my head, my loose ponytail moving with me.

"Well, the word they used was 'Christ-Killer'..." he tugged at the collar of his shirt

I feel like I've just been shoved off a 30,000-foot cliff and am now free-falling to my death as I frantically feel around for the parachute cord that isn't there. Maybe this is all a dream, and I'll wake up in a few minutes with Thomas laying next to me, still asleep.

He quirked an eyebrow, waiting for me to say something. I pinched the skin between my thumb and index finger.

I don't wake up.

Instead, I come crashing to the ground, my body shattering into a million little pieces.

I just died.

.....

"He did what?" Peggy shrieked as she paced around her living room. She's decked out in yellow, from her thick headband to her toes, which are painted a pretty marigold color.

"I already told you, Peggy," I muttered through tears. I wasn't exactly in the mood to explain what happened again.

"And he did it because of his shitty anti-Semetic parents?"

"Yes." I drew in a shaky breath.

"Oh my God," she whispered under her breath. "I can't believe that son of a bitch." she plopped down on the couch, rubbing soft circles into my back. "Do you know where you're going to stay tonight?" I shook my head and leaned closer to her, taking in her warmth. Peggy smells like cinnamon and cloves, mingling together to create a comforting and evocative scent that I swear could lull you to sleep. She clucked her tongue and started tapping her fingers on my thigh. "Poor thing," she mumbled.

"I just feel so...so defeated." I buried my face in a fluffy orange throw pillow. How could he have done that?

Why, Thomas?

Why?

"Who wouldn't? He's such a kiss-ass that he broke up with you because his dear mommy and daddy told him to," she griped. "And you were going to propose too, weren't you?"

I nodded dolefully and sighed. "Apparently, I'm a Christ-Killer now." Peggy pulled away from me and gasped, jaw slack.

"He called you that?"

"No, his parents did."

"That's even worse; he just let them say that shit about you." she shook her head. "I hate Thomas Jefferson with a white-hot fervor right now," she declared, petting my hair.

"You think I don't?"

"Fair."

Peggy is chubby, like my mom was, her bronzed thighs generous pillows for my head. Occasionally, her mousy curls fall into her face and tickle my cheeks as she cards her pudgy, perma-tanned fingers through my copper-colored hair.

"Pickles," Peggy and I look up to see Maria standing in the doorway, perfectly manicured hands planted on her hips. "Come back to sleep, baby," she said.

"I'll be right there, love." Peggy pointed to me, laying in her lap on the couch. "Or...you could join our little cuddle puddle?" she suggested, and flashed a cheeky half-smile at her taller girlfriend.

"I don't see why not," Maria said, making her way to the couch and plopping down next to us. She frowned when she saw the tear-stains on my cheeks, very clearly implying that I had been crying. "Whatsa matter, pretty boy?" she asked.

"Thomas dumped him because he's Jewish," Peggy answered her for me in a way that makes me feel silly for crying.

"Damn, that's gotta be rough," Maria mused. "What a bitch." Peggy opened her mouth to make some snarky remark about how she never really liked Thomas anyway when she was interrupted by the buzz of her phone.

"Hold on," she said, picking it up off the coffee table and flipping it open. Her hazel eyes lit up as she read her message.

"Who's that?" Maria asks as she looks over her shoulder.

"Angie. She and Eliza are arranging for the three of us to meet in South Carolina in a couple weeks for a reunion."

"Are you gonna go?" I questioned her, tilting my head to the side.

"Yeah, obviously. And she wants you, Laf, and Herc to come too. Mostly because Herc and Laf are very diplomatic, which is very helpful considering the fractured state of Eliza and I's relationship."

"What about me?"

"Oh, you? She just wants you to come because you're our friend and we love you—duh," Peggy went on, nudging me in the side. "Now, get some rest, it's pretty late and tomorrow's a Monday." Peggy pressed a kiss to my forehead and pulled the blanket on the couch up to my shoulder.

"Night, Peggy," I whispered. Maria is already halfway to her and Peggy's bedroom.

"Good night, Alex."