five: zero to sixty
“So I’m thinking about going back to blonde for the wedding,” Kristin announced to her buddy, Mila, over a lovely lunch in the city. Over the course of Mila and Justin’s marriage, the two women had become fairly close, as Kristin wouldn’t have had it any other way. For ten years, they tried to make it a habit of spending time together whenever Mila was in town, and vice versa. And neither one of them wanted to fall out of touch due to petty things like divorce and whatnot, so they kept that pact in tact. “What do you think?”
“I think we’re all used to you as a redhead now,” Mila diplomatically replied. “And you want to look like yourself on your wedding day…”
“Oh trust me honey, with all the makeup and Spanx going on that day, I won’t look like myself anyway.”
Mila laughed, but corrected her, “That just enables you to be your best version of yourself.”
“Tomato, tomahto,” Kristin waved off with a grin. “But if you think I should stay red, I will.”
“I think you should. I’ve waned to do a different color for years now, but I think I would scare everyone if I went blonde or red.”
“I can’t imagine you with any other color,” she agreed.
“So… there goes that dream.”
“I also couldn’t imagine you with anyone but Justin, and now here you are, engaged to Jimmy.”
Mila sighed only slightly, wary of where this conversation might lead. Kristin was obviously Justin’s biggest fan, so she hated to go down a road with her that included his name. “Things change.”
“That, they do.” She took a quick sip of her glass of merlot, staring at her gorgeous friend in the process. “I still get sad about you guys.”
“You shouldn’t,” Mila smirked. “We had a great time together, but… it was over.”
“It scares me that people can be so in love one day and then so out of love the next.”
“It didn’t happen in one day,” she promised her. “And me and Justin were not you and Grant. We were so freaking young when we got married. We barely knew each other.” She shook her head sadly, because sometimes, truthfully, she did miss those old days. “We were too young to realize that you have to work at staying in love. You guys will be fine.”
“I hope so. I want to believe we will be, but everywhere you turn, people are breaking up and divorcing and just not happy. I don’t want to be that couple.”
Mila rested her hand over Kristin’s trembling one, hating that she might have helped ruin her idea of a happy ending. “You won’t be.”
“I always thought you two were so happy.”
“We were,” she nodded emphatically. “For a while, we were.”
August 2004…
“So listen up, everyone.” Justin was clinking his champagne glass with a fork, trying to get everyone’s attention, because he had something to say, and he wanted everyone in the building to hear it. “Now I know this is cheesy as fuck, and if anyone knows Mila, they know she doesn’t do cheesy, but I have to say this…”
“Oh god,” Mila was grinning wildly at her husband as he commenced to embarrassing her in front of friends and strangers alike. “Make it fast, baby.”
“You know I don’t do anything fast, babe.”
“Get the fuck on with it!” one of their friends shouted at him.
“Shut the fuck up,” Justin pointed back to the friend with a smile. “Anyway. Umm, we are all gathered here today in Las Vegas, which, yes, is incredibly clichéd and unoriginal, but nonetheless, awesome. And we are here to celebrate my beautiful wife’s twenty-first birthday.” As the patrons cheered in unison, he smiled down at Mila and raised his glass. “So we’re not gonna talk about how it is hot as FUCK out here in the desert in August. And we’re not gonna talk about how she’s been drinking like a fish for, what, like eight years now?”
“Roughly,” she laughed.
“And umm, we most certainly won’t talk about how this year has been rough as shit for me, and I don’t know how I would have gotten through it without her. I love you, by the way…”
“I love you, too, baby!”
“What I do want to say is that I am so fucking honored to be your husband. We’ve been together, what, three years now? And to be able to go through life with you guiding me and showing me shit through those big blue and green eyes. I don’t know how I managed to be the luckiest fucking dude in the world. To be honest, I still pinch myself every now and then, because I haven’t quite figured out why you said yes to marrying me,” he chuckled. “But umm, here we are, and um… I love the shit out of you, kid. Please don’t ever, ever, ever forget that, because it will never, never, never change.”
Mila wasn’t one to show emotion at all if she could help it, but his words touched her, and she rested her hand over her heart to let him know she felt the same way. “I love you,” she silently told him.
“So. Here’s to my beautiful Milena. Happy birthday.”
She raised her hands over her head to applaud his toast, grinning from ear to ear as he stepped off of his pedestal to kiss her. “You’re a dork,” she welcomed him into her embrace. “And I hope you stay that way forever.”
“I will stay that way forever as long as you stay with me forever.”
“Well. That’s the plan.”
Back then, neither of them realized that plans would change. Drastically.
“So,” Kristin sighed, seeing that Mila’s thoughts had left their table, “word on the street is that Justin hooked up with one of my other bridesmaids.”
Mila found herself glaring at her friend and her news, so she quickly regained her composure and lightened up. “How about that.”
“I almost can’t believe him.”
“I don’t know why. That sounds exactly like something he would do.”
“Oh hush, Mi. I have never known him to be so cavalier with strangers.”
“Yeah, well…” She delved into her Greek salad, trying to think of all the other bridesmaids and figure which one would have been her ex-husband’s type. She couldn’t picture any of them with Justin. “You’re sure about this?”
“Pretty sure,” Kristin nodded, searching Mila’s face for some shade of green. “I haven’t had the chance to talk to him, but no one would lie about that, right?”
“You’d be surprised what people would lie about, Kiki.”
“Fair enough.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t put anything past Justin, but I also know him fairly well, and I just can’t imagine him taking a keen interest in Erin or Lexi,” she chuckled.
“Well. It was the night you told him you were engaged, so I don’t think he was exactly searching for a soul mate or anything.”
“The night of the engagement party?”
Kristin nodded in confirmation. “Did you ever meet Nadia?”
“She’s the one from the show, right? The black chick that looks like a fuckin’ model?”
“That would be her.”
Mila threw her fork down. “What the fuck, are you kidding me?”
“I shit you not.”
“Kristin, how could you let this happen?” she was almost shouting. “What the fuck does she even want with him?”
“Holy cow, Mila. Calm down!”
“I’m calm. I’m just… confused.”
“You’re confused that your ex husband has moved on? Or that Justin Timberlake can pull a chick that looks like a model? Either way, I’m confused by your confusion.”
“This is not funny, bitch.”
“I know! This is what I’m trying to tell you, kid. This is where we are now.”
“So… what. Are they like a ‘thing’ now? Now I get to be in a wedding with the happy fucking couple? Because I’ll tell you right now, Kris, I’m not gonna do it. I’m not gonna sit around watching them flirt with each other every other weekend for the next two months. I won’t do it!”
“You really gotta calm down, honey. This is not a good look for you.”
“This whole thing just doesn’t feel good. It feels like shit, actually.”
“Well would it make you feel better if I told you he didn’t call her afterwards? Would that calm your crazy ass down?”
“Actually,” Mila inhaled sharply and took a sip of her Pinot, “it does.” She exhaled and was almost smiling again. “Why didn’t you say that in the first place.”
“Wow.”
“Wow what?”
“Just… wow.”
“Don’t act like I’m crazy. I’m not crazy.”
“I didn’t say you were,” Kristin smirked, sitting back in her seat. “But you did go from zero to sixty, back to zero based on a few very small pieces of information, so…”
“I know. I did step into psycho a little bit, but can you blame me? He was my husband,” she lamented over their past. “And your friend is not some average old ‘You have a face for radio’ kinda chick. Shit threw me off.”
“Understood.”
“I don’t want him back.”
“I didn’t say you did!”
“But you’re looking at me like you know some secret about me, so just put it out of your head.”
“I’m not saying anything.”
“I hate you,” Mila shook her head. “I hate you so much.”
“I still didn’t say anything!”
“I’m marrying James. I’m in love with him.”
“Just so you know, the more you talk, the more you convince me of the opposite of what you’re saying.”
“I know.” She downed what was left of her wine and looked up to the ceiling of the swanky restaurant. “Fuck.”
“It’s okay if you still love him.”
“I do,” she accepted with a slow nod. “And I’m sure some part of me always will, but whatever I was feeling a few minutes ago? That was not okay.”
“Come now, Mila. Despite your otherworldly beauty, you are only human.”
“I don’t wanna be,” she pouted. “And shut up.”
“But seriously. It’s nice to know that you still care.”
“Mmm.” She frowned at the notion. “I’m not so sure it is nice to know that.”
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Later that day, Mila found herself laid across her couch, laptop powered up, trying to come up with a speech for Grant and Kristin's reception. Despite it being two months away, Kristin's words at lunch had stayed with her, and she found herself suddenly inspired. She had come up with a spiel much too long for a bridesmaid, and knew it needed to be edited down, so she was relieved when James came bustling into the apartment.
“You are right on time,” she greeted him with a smile, not looking up from her work. “Sit.”
His childlike grin lit up the whole room when he laid eyes on his future bride. “Dobriy vecher, Milena.” He often greeted her in her native tongue of Russian, and used her full name, sounding much like her dad and brother. He planted a kiss on her lips before planting himself on the couch across from her. “What am I right on time for?”
“How was your day?” she ignored him to make sure and ask.
“It was good, I think. I don't remember it.”
“That's because you work too much.”
“No such thing. What did you do today?”
“Went to the gym, had lunch with Kiki. I have a photoshoot tomorrow,” she stuck her tongue out and finally looked at him. “Babe, you look like shit.”
“Well that's honest.”
“Seriously, Jimmy. You look like you haven't slept in four days.”
“I slept!”
“For how long?”
“A couple of hours.” She stared at him, waiting for the accurate answer. “Or an hour.”
“James!”
“I'll sleep when I'm dead,” he chuckled.
“You're gonna be dead soon if you don't slow down,” she advised seriously.
He waved her off dismissively. “What are you doing?”
“Writing my toast for the wedding,” she went back to frowning at her screen. “And it's way too long. Read it and tell me what to cut out.” She gave him her Mac and headed for the kitchen to start on dinner. “I'm making fajitas and grilled corn, but there’s pasta salad if you’re hungry now.”
“I’m good.” He started in on reading her speech, but as a self-proclaimed excellent multitasker, he continued his conversation with her. “How was lunch, babe?”
“It was… good,” she eventually decided after running through the entire thing in her head. “Kristin gave me some interesting information about my previous situation.” That was how she and James referred to Justin and/or their marriage “ a previous situation.
“Is it actually interesting, or girly interesting?”
“Shut the fuck up,” she pouted, locating her paprika and garlic, along with bowls and knives. “It’s girly interesting, but that doesn’t preclude you from caring.”
“I feel like this toast is a little bit too much about yourself…”
“I was thinking that, but I didn’t know how to stop myself! I was trying to be kind of, like, quirky with it.”
“You’ve been trying to do quirky ever since you saw (500) Days of Summer, and you’ve failed miserably. Just… do Mila.”
“Ugh, but Mila is so boring.”
“That’s not true in the least,” he was smiling, still reading. “And I’m not sure you should say you were married to a douchebag.”
“But I was.”
“Yeah… but Kristin likes him, and he’ll be there… It would be awkward.”
She sighed. “This is why I need you, baby.”
“Obviously.”
“Well just delete all that stuff then.”
He brought the computer to the kitchen counter so he could hear over running water and watch his fiancée cook. “I like the advice portion,” he continued. “Especially the part where you say there's a certain point where you have to know when to give up and have a margarita."
"It's the truth."
He continued typing and deleting and rewording things for her as she began to actually make margaritas. "You say a lot about your previous situation, actually. I think this is less of a speech and more of you just venting."
"That's probably true," she admitted with a shrug. "Can you get me the ice."
Obliging, he hopped up from his stool and grabbed glasses as well. But he had to know... "Mila. This is... this has been a weird, twisty, fucked up road for you. And it all moved kind of fast, so I mean, I get it," he began to explain as he passed her the ice trays. "But I just really need you to tell me now, are you one hundred percent over this?"
"I need you to stop asking me that."
"I would if I felt like you were being honest with me."
At this point, she had begun to slice limes, and it seemed that her chops were getting louder and louder with every second. "Well obviously you think I'm lying, so it appears you already have your answer."
"Babe," he smiled, trying to maintain an even tone. "I'm trying to have an honest conversation, you can save the sarcasm."
She stopped moving all together and looked him in the eye. "I'm sick of people acting like I can't have a reaction to him without being in love with him. I left him for a reason, and it wasn't you, and it sure as hell wasn't because I was too goddamn in love with him. I was over it then, and I'm over it even more now. I guarantee you, I am one hundred, thousand, million percent over Justin Timberlake. Okay?"
Her outburst wasn't doing anything for her case, but he was too tired to argue over something he couldn't prove one way or the other. He went back to reading. "Okay."
"Okay." But she knew that the only person she was truly convincing of this was herself. And she wasn't even doing a good job of that.
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