The Beach Retreat

WTF

The Beach Retreat

By Robyn Branick

Chapter One

“Have you been on your phone at all today?” Jay asks in a frantic state. Normally, he’s the calm one in our friendship. I’m the neurotic in this duo. Outside of our twenty something year relationship as besties, I seem nonchalant, but he’s the only one that truly knows me. My armor is dented. Cracked in many places from the wrong women I chose to love, chose to stay with for all the wrong reasons, chose because my heart didn’t want to leave; even if my head and bestie knew better.

“Um, aren’t we talking on the phone right now?” I joke.

“Stop being an ass. That’s my job. I meant your socials, you twat.”

“Well, since you called me so early, no. Why would I bother before my coffee?” I sit up in my bed. “Did Bruce Willis die again? Oh no, don’t tell me something happened to Demi Lovato…or worse, Bebe Rexha! I couldn’t handle either one.”

“You’re such an i***t. No, but something did happen. Do me a favor. You’re going to stay on the line, you’re making a pot of coffee while I come to your place. I’m actually on my way. Should be there in five so put some pants on, please. And a bra. I don’t want those things flopping around while we talk. I can’t take any more catastrophes today,” he sighs into the phone as if he hasn’t seen me flash my boobs in half the bars we’ve been to since the beginning of time.

“Ugh! Whatever. If I must, but don’t expect any food. I doubt I have any.”

“Like I would eat anything you cook.” He’s right. I’m horrendous in the kitchen. I get up, do my thing in the bathroom, with him on speaker, just to rile him up. Start the coffee, put on clothes and get the mugs ready. “I’m here. Open the damn door,” he hangs up. I swing it open and he shoves his way into my apartment. “Okay, I’ll make our brews, you have a seat.”

“Wow, last time you made the coffee for me was when…” oh s**t. I stare at him and tears gather in my eyes. The last time he forced himself into my apartment and made the coffee was when my father died. We weren’t particularly close, but still. It was a shock to the system.

“Yeah. It’s not good. Just remember, I love you and I’m here for you,” Jay grabs my phone that happens to be on the table and turns it off.

“What the f**k, Jay? Just say it already? Please? Who is it?” I can’t stop crying now. Despite not knowing who it is, my anxiety and fear have a grip on me in the worst of ways.

“Hun, it’s Maggie.”

“Oh, okay. Well, I haven’t really seen her in a while. She had her issues. I think I’ll get through it. How’d it happen?”

“There’s more to it than that.”

I scrunch my face. How could there be more to it than an ex dying? “What do you mean?”

“Well, she posted a video. About you. She talks about you and her. Your relationship woes, the way you just threw her aside during her most vulnerable time in life. I know the truth. The ones who know you know the truth. It’s hurtful to watch,” he hands me my cup of coffee and rubs my shoulder.

“How did you see it and what does it matter?”

“It went viral since last night. She has thousands of views, hundreds of shares and comments. It just won’t go away. It’s on multiple sites. Since you were tagged and mentioned, strangers comment about you as if they know you. Trolls are saying so, so much.”

“Wow. I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Promise me you will keep your phone off today, Brandi. It’s unrealistic to keep it off forever, but at least today. Maybe even delete your account. Change your handles. Don’t look at any of it.”

“I can promise, but I won’t listen.”

“Yeah, I know.”

After hours of Jay consoling me, I broke my promise to him. I look at my phone and turned it back on. My bestie knows better, so I don’t feel all that guilty about defying his wishes, but I still feel I should’ve done this with him here.

I watch Maggie’s warning to all the women out there looking for female companionship. She says nothing about trying to better oneself, getting help, or becoming a happier person through therapy and whatnot. She trashes me and how it was my doing. How I was at fault for all her problems. Her selfishness and destructive behavior stemmed from me not caring enough about her. My neglect and ignorance of her mental state drove her to feel the way she did. I put her on death’s door.

I’m shocked that so many are on her side. I’m sad, angry, frustrated. I should’ve listened to my best friend and not looked at any of this. Her death was a bit of a shock, but for some reason, her blame isn’t. She blamed me for just about everything. That was why I couldn’t take it. Her mental health was an issue and she refused to seek treatment. I would’ve supported her, as a friend. She was never going to be my ‘forever’ so I saw no reason to deal with any of the pain she caused me. Yet, she saw to it for me to once again go through the Maggie drama and hurt all over again. After four years of freedom.

Notifications are non-stop on my phone. I don’t even know how anyone can get through to me. I thought all my information was private. So much for that. I’m getting random texts and voicemails from strangers. I keep my mailbox full. I don’t want to bother. I can’t listen to this hatred anymore. Is there a purpose to spread this anger and disgust? They don’t know me. They weren’t in our relationship. They didn’t hear my side, and they never will.

I worry about my job. I’m a freelance writer. Thank goodness my professional name isn’t connected to any of my social media handles. I separate and try to act accordingly on both. Just in case a client finds my personal accounts. This doesn’t help, but I hope none dig too deep.

Ricki is crying to go for our nightly run. He’s sitting on my foot with one of my sneakers in his mouth. My savior. My fur baby. My loving, thirty-pound mutt. “Okay, babydoll. Let’s go. Drop my shoe, and we can run a little longer than usual.” I definitely need the extra mind break. If not, I’ll break.

On our jog, an empty bottle hits me in the shoulder and I hear a man yell, “You killed her, you b***h!”

Ricki starts barking and pulls toward the offending party. Thank goodness he’s smaller than he is or I wouldn’t be able to keep him in control. I love his protectiveness, but I don’t need him in the pound on top of everything.

“Let’s go bud. We need to get home.” Ricki snaps out of his anger, starts to jog with me to the apartment building. This is when I decide it’s time to get out of town for the summer. I’ll call Jay in the morning and tell him I’m going to the beach house we own together. Maybe he’ll want to join Ricki and me. If not, reflection and alone time will do me some good.