I’m immediately defensive, “You took Julia back after she cheated on you.”
“Yeah, well, I won’t this time. Not this time. And if Dex is cheating on you with his ex, you shouldn’t take that. You deserve so much better than that.”
“Ifhe cheated on me. And no, I wouldn’t take him back. That’s like re-eating your vomit. It ain’t tasting better the second time.” I’m feeling less drunk and more shitty.
“Do you hate him?” Nate asks.
“I’m not saying I hate him. I don’t. But if he’s somewhere right now getting head on my birthday, I hope it’s from a shark.”
Nate chuckles low and then there’s a brief moment of hesitation. “What if I can make you forget all about him?”
“You got some sort of pill or something?”
“No, Janie. I don’t. I wish I did you so wouldn’t feel this hurt. But I’m talking about me and you. What if being with me will help you get over him.”
I’m almost stone-cold sober now. His words have drained all the alcohol from my bloodstream. I catch the crazy straw in my fingers and drain my cup. I can’t be anywhere near sober tonight. “You only want me because Julia left, and that’s not a reason for me to be with you.”
“That’s not—"
“Yeah it is. I might be buzzed, but I’m not stupid, Nate. You strung me along for months, and the only time you wanted me was to be as your secret while you put a diamond ring on Julia’s finger. You wanted me to just be here, next door, to follow you around like some lovesick puppy.”
“Come on, Jane. It wasn’t like that.”
“Yeah, it sort of, kind of, exactly was. And I’m sorry I called you tonight. You aren’t the person to talk to about this.”
“Come on, Jane. I’m sorry. You can talk to me about anything. Really. What are you going to do?”
“It’s fuck-this-shit o’clock, and I’m going to drink until I have to go to work.” Then I hang up on him and shut my phone off. I don’t want to hear from anyone else about how much of a jerk Dex was for missing my birthday. I know he’s a jerk for it.
I just need to know why.
Chapter 15
It feels like someone is crushing my head under their foot. They’re wearing stiletto heels, and the stabbing pain goes right through my eye and out the back of my skull. A railroad spike splitting my brain wide open.
I hear every sound, even the electricity in the walls. It screams into my ears so loudly I want to cry. From behind my closed eyelids, I see unnaturally bright light. I’m terrified of how intense the pain will be if I open my eyes.
Someone is talking. “I swear. I just saw him in Gail’s office.” The voice is female. Another feminine voice giggles in response and mumbles something I can’t make out. Their voices are too loud and echoey and this brain-destroying headache is amplifying them.
Someone flushes a toilet.
A door squeaks open and shut.Oh, God. Am I in a bathroom?
“Do you think she’ll call a meeting? I really want to meet him. Maybe we should stand outside her office and wait.” Someone is running water. The sound makes me want to pull the skin off my face.
There’s more horribly high-pitched laughter. I grab my forehead trying to stop the pressure.
Then it happens. The worse thing in the world. One of the stupid giggling idiots puts their hands under the hand dryer. The noise makes my head explode. My eyes shoot open. I can smell the color of the bathroom tiles and literally taste the light. A wave of nausea surges up my stomach and I grab onto the toilet bowl and dry heave. There’s nothing left in my stomach to expel.
The blower goes silent and the women’s voices move out of the restroom and into the hallway.
I found it. Rock-bottom. I once thought I found it before, but no way, that was not it. This is it. I have flat-out hit rock-bottom on the dirty tiles of the bathroom floor in my office. I can’t even make a guess as to how I got myself here, but I know it started with a borderline-lethal amount of wine.
I lurch out of the stall in a brain fog. With each step, I feel a new sensation trying to kill me.Here, Jane, have an earache and jaw pain and chapped lips to go with your poorly scheduled hangover.
My mouth is the Sahara and getting to the sink is a matter of life or death. I’m suddenly not sure if I’m hungover or just dead.
I feel very dead.
