It Had to Be You

An Accident

How Christina ended up in this predicament is beyond her. She did everything right. She managed to snag the hot 6'5 blue eyed finance guy with a heart of gold and the personality of a retriever after her life had imploded in her early twenties. She had managed to escape the catastrophes of youth by building what many would term a stable life. She had fulfilled everything that was asked of her so the fact that she was standing in the subway station wearing an ill-fitting bridesmaids dress and a duffel bag was beyond her.

He hadn't meant to cheat. Those are the words he used. He being Ian Jeffries. Her now ex-boyfriend Ian Jeffries. He hadn't "meant" to cheat as if that softened the blow. What? Had he just fallen straight into her bed? Was he disoriented and confused and somehow managed to go into her apartment, a mere seventy blocks north of their home in the West Village? Had he been so confused in fact that the only way he could make sense of everything was to find her in the midst of the chaos? The fact that they looked nothing alike didn't tick him off? Christina's blonde curls unruly in a Meg Ryan circa 1990s kind of way. Hers the color of mahogany, pin straight with a harsh bang. Harsh in Christina's opinion anyway.

He must have been really out of it if he hadn't meant to cheat and still somehow managed to walk the six flights up to her studio and wake up in her bed, one hand wrapped around her thigh – the thigh that just so happened to have a butterfly tattoo where it met her hip bone. Christina shook her head. She knew too much about her already. She wasn't meant to know this much but Ian had confessed everything in such vivid detail that she could practically feel his urgency as he moved his hand up her thigh to her hip, noting the butterfly tattoo – never once thinking "gee, I forgot I had a girlfriend of over a year named Christina who is currently in our apartment learning how to make challah to impress my mother."

He was the one who had started calling her Christina. It was her birth name but everyone close to her called her Nina. When they had first started dating she found it oddly attractive – a tall, handsome man calling her Christina. It made her feel warm and tingly, like she wanted to jump his bones right there. But now, "Christina" felt harsh. It eliminated all the best parts of her personality. Nina was fun. She was outgoing. She was not a woman who baked Challah bread to win over her boyfriend's mom.

As embarrassing as it was to admit she was learning how to make Challah because Mrs. Jeffries was stone cold and Nina would be damned if she didn't receive some version of her love. But none of that really mattered now did it. Nina didn't have to see Lorraine Jeffries ever again. In fact, she could choose to never seen Ian Jeffries again. She should call up Janey and ask to sleep on her couch. It was the sensible thing to do considering she had nothing of hers except the bridesmaids dress she was currently wearing and her phone.

It had all happened so fast. She has been in the apartment, their apartment and took the dress out of the closet to take to the tailor. Ian was sitting on the couch working on his laptop with the crinkle in his eyebrow that said he was worried. But Ian was always worried. He was fretter whereas Nina, Christina – was go with the flow. That's why they worked. Well, did work. But on this particular day he looked more than perplexed and after asking what was wrong, receiving the customary "Nothing, just a work thing." She left without a second glance.

It wasn't until she has made it the four blocks to the tailor that she saw the missed calls. Except it wasn't her phone. It was Ian's. She must have grabbed it by accident off their entry table. There it was plain as day. Her name. Three times in a row followed by a missed call from Nina's phone. She hasn't quite put everything together. Yes she had Ian's phone but at this exact moment figuring out who "her" was would have to wait. The tailor was closing and if Nina didn't get this dress done before Friday, Janey would kill her.

She went into the fitting room to change and when she came out she was astonished at what bad taste Janey had. Technically, Janey's future mother-in-law who had pressured Janey into getting peach, or blush or whatever we were calling mauve these days. It wasn't just the color. There has been the debate over strapless sweetheart or strapless straight across. Should there be sashes involved? What about matching neck scarfs? In the end, they settled on a tan-ish pink strapless dress with more rouching than Nina had seen in her life. It virtually eliminated her boobs and took away any option of a shape. But as Janey had said, "You only have to wear it for the church. After that, it's a free for all and I want you to look hot." Nina has blushed at the comment. She didn't have anyone to impress at this wedding. She had Ian and they made a striking couple. She thought so anyway. It's mainly because Ian was so classically handsome and Nina has 1990's rom com written all over here that they drew looks wherever they went and she loved it.

But there she was. In the tailor trying to figure out how to get rid of at least one layer of the rouching when the door burst open and there he was. Ian, all sweaty and out of breath. In retrospect this gave her the ick. He looked desperate and confused. A combo that she had never seen on him.

"I need my phone." He was practically wheezing. Hands on his knees taking big deep inhales.

"Are you alright?" Nina stepped down from the tailors podium and put a hand on his back. Maybe he was having an asthma attack. She vaguely remembered him having an episode as a kid.

"I need my phone. Where is it?" He began moving towards the dressing room, rifling through the clothes she had thrown haphazardly onto the floor.

"Okay, okay. Hey calm down. Let me help you." She tried to get around him. The phone was buried in the pocket of her cargo jacket. Ian was currently going through her purse.

"Ian. Stop. Wait a minute." Something about her tone made him freeze almost like he was in a daze. He stood upright and walked back from her like someone who was going into shock. As she located the phone she angled her body away from him. At the time it seemed just normal but now, it seemed like she must have known.