Wine Tears

**Bonus post again, I find I just always want to fill you guys in come Saturday! Maybe I'll start planning to add a bonus post every other Saturday. What do you think? Hope you're all having a great weekend xoxo**

Friday night I was meeting my friend from college, Spencer, for dinner with Ashley. Spencer lived in Stamford and occasionally came down for a weekend here and there. Being a nurse she kept crazy hours, and it was so great when all of our schedules allowed for a night together. Her and Ash became close too, and she used to alternate staying with me or her on weekends. But since Ash moved in with Steve I got Spence all to myself.

It had been almost two months since I had seen her, so like a corny movie I decided to greet her at Penn Station with flowers and a sign with her name. I stopped just short of a flash mob. I know, I’m a loser. (I may or may not have also just watched Friends with Benefits, great flash mob ending there folks).

I was smack dab in the rush-hour throng of people eager to return to their families for the weekend, scanning the crowd for my short brunette friend. We always got told we looked alike in college which I took as a compliment. Spencer was pretty in a very classic, simple way. She never wore a lot of makeup and she let her long brown hair hang in straight layers to mid-way down her back. She had huge doe eyes to my narrow green ones, and was much more petite than me. My three-inch booties were barely even putting me at average human height, so I was having trouble finding her. I checked my phone again and saw that she had texted me two minutes ago that she was here. I was by track 4, wasn’t she track 4? Finally, I felt the weight of someone crashing into me.

“Spence!!” I cried enveloping my tiny friend in a hug.

“Oh my GOD it’s been so long!” she cried out, disentangling her limbs from mine. She hoisted her weekend bag back up over her shoulder and linked her arm through mine. “I missed the city and you and Ash!” she squealed as we made our way up and outside.

“I figured we can head back to my place, change and then we’re meeting Ash at 9,” I said grinning happily at my friend. I always felt so lucky when I got to spend time with the people I didn’t see much.

“Perfect,” she said pulling me closer. She was still in her green scrubs from work, complete with a name tag dangling around her neck.

“Nice shoes,” I joked, glancing down at her super-sweet crocs.

“Dude, when you have to spend all day running around helping old people do unspeakable things, fashion is the least of your worries!” she defended.

“I know I know,” I replied laughing. “Hey you’re off basically saving the world, and I’m crafting the perfect tweet. I have no room to talk.”

We headed back to my apartment chatting and catching up. Somehow, I managed to keep the Nick conversation at bay until midway through Spencer’s shower. I was sitting on my bed, sewing a hole that had managed to form in the hem of my favorite shirt when I heard her voice carry out over the running water.

“Wait, last time we talked you had just met Nick for drinks. Did that go anywhere?” she asked, and I could hear the thud of a shampoo bottle rattling off of the wire rack.

“Um..” I started. I heard the water shut off, and a minute later she appeared wrapped in a towel at the foot of my bed.

“Oh no” she replied, seeing my expression. “Tell me everything.”

I told her every dirty detail (okay not every, I am a lady after all) and she sat in silence absorbing the story. Spencer had been there for all of the ups and downs of college, so she knew the enormity of us hooking up again. When I was finished, she sat there picking at imaginary threads on my comforter before replying.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do. I do like Nick, and if what he’s saying is true then.. well.. the only way you could ever trust him again, is just to trust him. Hand him everything and if he screws up again, be done. For good. But I don’t think this randomly sleeping together thing will get you anywhere but heartbreak city.”

I looked back at her. God dammit, she gave the best advice. “I know, but I feel like I’m not ready to go all in. And he made it clear he’s confused too”, I replied.

“I guess just let it play out a few more weeks,” she offered. “But do not let him walk all over you,” she pointed at me defiantly. “You, are great. You will find someone great. Maybe that’s Nick, but maybe it’s not,” she sat up and began to rummage in her bag.

“I’d hug you,” I started “if you weren’t naked.”

She laughed and jumped on me anyway.

We were meeting Ash at Cien Montaditos, one of our favorite places in the city. I adored it because anywhere that tastes like Spain is a win in my book. After Ash and Spencer had done the appropriate white-girl bouncing/squealing/shrieking ritual that accompanies any and all reunions, we settled in to order.

“Two pitchers of the classic sangria, three number 44s, two number 6s, two 13s, one 24 and one 27,” Ash said, reciting the order she knew by heart. The three of us came here almost every time Spencer was visiting - and never without all of us. It was our spot. We spent the next two hours catching up and ordering more bocadillos until I thought my pants were going to pop. I hadn’t had the chance to ask Ash about the other day, and she was acting completely normal now. I was hoping the sangria would make me bold and I could ask her later. Around 11:30, we paid our bill and headed back to my apartment for an old-fashioned sleepover. We stopped and picked up two bottles of wine, Anchorman 2 and enough candy for a small army.

When we were back at my place in pajamas, drinking wine out of mugs and splitting up skittles colors Ash finally spoke first about the other day.

“I’m cheating on Steve,” she blurted out, as if it were Word Vomit (okay maybe Mean Girls is also on Netflix right now..).

I stopped, mid-skittle bite. “Who?”

“That guy, James,” she said looking down at her feet.

“Is that what you were doing uptown on Wednesday when you acted like a total spaz?” I asked.

“Yeah, we were meeting for drinks,” she replied.

“Okay who the hell is James?” Spencer asked finally. When Ash didn’t reply, I filled in as much as I knew.

“So are you sleeping with him?” I asked Ashley pointedly.

“Yeah,” Ash said back.

“You need to tell Steve, Ashley,” I said. “This isn’t the first time, and it’s just not fair to him.”

“I know it’s not fair to him!” Ashley responded, raising her voice. “But where the hell would I live? And what would his family say? And what about our dog? And he’d be a great husband, I just I’m not there yet and he is.”

I absorbed these reasons, noting that some were extremely lame excuses to stay with someone, before speaking. “You just need to talk to him Ash. About these feelings. Maybe.. maybe he’ll understand. That you just need some time.” I offered, doubting my words even as  I said them. Steve was a proud guy, and I didn’t think he would wait around while she got it out of her system.

I looked helplessly at Spencer, willing her to say something.

“It’s so wrong Ash,” she said softly. “It’s just so common and cruel, you can’t do this to Steve. You have to tell him, or at least break up with him.”

Ashley started crying. “I know, I will. I’ll talk to him Sunday,” she blubbered.

We put our arms around her and spent the evening trying to cheer her up. This was definitely going to be an eventful weekend.