The state I was in, I didn’t see how alcohol was gonna help me. But I took it anyway. Even forced some semblance of a smile. That is, until I saw the bottle inside.
“Screw-top rosé?”
“Because how else will you know how much I love you, huh?” Her excitement was both unwarranted and unwanted. “I bought it for you to have on the first night in your new place. To ring in the next chapter.”
It was the cheap kind. Shitty enough to snuff out the last glimmer of hope hanging on for dear life inside of me. What next chapter? All my plans had fallen to shit, and I didn’t have a clue about how to pull it back.
This was it. The moment I turned into the cynical, angry female lead in every 90s romcom. Except, it’ll just be a boring drama chronicling my rooftop gardening or whatever. There’d be no love interest sweeping me off my feet. No soulmate waiting to clumsily spill their freshly ordered coffee all over my crisp white shirt on the sidewalk. No magical eye contact or spark that foreshadowed the epic romance to follow.
“We should TP his house later,” I said in a tone so manically delightful it scared me.
“What?”
It was absurd. The most ridiculous idea in the world.That didn’t stop me from fantasizing about it, though.
“He’s in Bora Bora with the love of his life, and won’t be back ‘til Tuesday after next.”
“Maren…”
“Logan International, 12:45PM.” I had the flight memorized. I also knew the hotel they were staying at. The room they were in. Had spent hours on a 3D tour of it online, and imagined them fucking on every available surface.
“Oh, God.”
“Terminal E…” My voice grew softer. “Gate 12...”
Liv groaned and snatched the bottle of rosé. “I’d much rather get to the bottom of that bottle with you. Come on, Eeyore.”
We went to the living room where she whipped up a comfy wallowing hole with some stray scatter cushions. A look and finger jab in my direction, and I dropped onto the one closest to me.
“This is what’s gonna happen–” With an impressive display of graceful coordination, she sank to the floor and cracked the bottle at the same time. “You’re gonna get started on this, and I’ll contact those leads for apartments I found.”
She thrust the bottle at me and without another word, pulled out her cell phone.
“No glass?”
“Drink,” she commanded, fingers furiously tapping away. “Enough is enough.”
I knew her long enough to know which battles were worth fighting, and this wasn’t one of them. The first gulp was rank and I grimaced through the onslaught of bubbles stinging my throat. But hey, at least I wasn’t crying anymore.
This development was the one that pleased Liv the most, and she leaned closer to show me an ugly studio apartment.
“The rent’s good, and it’s only a five-minute walk from Jonathan’s place.” She’d forgotten she was done with me, her pleasant, problem-solving persona now taking the wheel. “Close to the Green Line, but not close enough that you’ll–”
A train passed right at that moment, drowning out the rest of her sentence. We waited for it to pass, the thunderous rumble rattling the windows as it went.
“I’m gonna miss that sound,” I mumbled into the bottle and took another sip.
Liv scoffed, and helped herself to a long sip too. “Give me a break. We’ve been here for three years, and for three years you’ve complained about the damn trains going by. Reply to the ad, and get the apartment, for the love of God.”
“How am I gonna pay for it?” I took the bottle back and cradled it against my chest. “I’ll need a job to pay rent, or have you forgotten?”
“Which brings me to this.” Liv closed the tab on her phone to pull up another she’d apparently saved.
I scanned the job ad.
“A nanny?”
“Just read it,” she said, and held her phone closer.
