April
Ibuzz Gemma’s flat and impatiently wait for her to let me in. With my hands occupied fluffing my hair, I bounce slightly to keep warm, surprisingly cheerful to be here. After weeks spent wallowing in my sorrows, a fun girls’ night out seems the perfect thing to distract me from the current shitstorm that is my personal life.
A buzz sounds before Gemma’s voice spills through the intercom.
“The hot girl evening has officially commenced. I made margaritas!”
I swear that woman is a walking cocktail.
I chuckle under my breath and step inside. Anna flings the door of Gemma’s flat open, and her eyes slide over me from head to toe, a low, appreciative whistle escaping her lips.
“Bloody hell. You ought to be careful tonight,” she says.
“What? Why?” I ask, looking down to inspect my outfit.
“I’m a straight married woman, and even I’m tempted to shag you.”
I’m drawn instantly to her stunning rose gold wedding ring adorning her finger. The pear shaped diamond sparkles under the hallway lights, and a fleeting pang of envy washes over me,serving as a blunt reminder of what I lost. I dismiss the thought before it drenches me with misery.
I give her a playful twirl, showcasing my new Sophia Webster winged butterfly shoes and leather miniskirt, which I’ve paired with a baby pink cropped silk shirt, fully embracing the Taylor Swift “Lover” aesthetic. My straightened hair flows down, reaching my waist. To complete the look, I’ve added thick gold hoop earrings and cherry-red lips.
I must admit, retail therapy has become a favourite pastime since the break-up. The loud colours and luxurious fabrics I’ve added to my wardrobe have brought a semblance of joy and happiness back into my home. I love running my fingers over the soft material because I find that, when everything else feels sad and gloomy, my clothes brighten my day.
“Knowing my abysmal luck with the male species, I might just take you up on that offer,” I joke, sharing a laugh with Anna. Inside, music fills the kitchen and Gemma stands, armed with margaritas.
“This is 98 percent alcohol,” she states, passing me a glass.
My brows pinch. “What’s the other 2 percent?”
“Lime.”
“At least it’s fruit,” Anna replies, shrugging while she accepts her own glass and takes a healthy swig.
Gemma studies me for a moment, and I give her an insecure look. “What?”
“You look like you stepped out of a YouTube channel made for toddlers.”
Anna chokes on her margarita, pounding her fist against her chest to stifle the coughing.
I look down to inspect my outfit, unable to keep from laughing. “Uh, rude! I figured if I dress in happy colours, it will make me feel happy.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I love the bright colours. They’re much more your style, but I got so used to seeing you in black. I’m just surprised, that’s all. It’s like the first time you see your favourite Disney child actor all grown up at thirty,” Gemma says with a chuckle.
Anna chimes in, “She was in mourning, Gemma.”
“I wore black way before I found out my fiancé was an online predator,” I reply.
Anna nods. “That was your subconscious speaking. It knew he was a shady subspecies.”
I shake my head and bring the drink to my lips, delighting in the tangy flavours as they dance across my tongue. Lowering my drink, I check out my best friends in appreciation.
Anna is stunning in a tight, short-sleeved, black midi dress with nude heels, and Gemma is confidently rocking her signature ensemble: a sleek black leather skirt paired with a black see-through top, her maroon lacy bodysuit on display underneath.
It dawns on me that this is the first time in months I’ve gone out for drinks with my girlfriends without Lucas by my side. And now, I’m single. I’ve never been one to relish attention from men, or anyone, for that matter. In the past, I never had to worry about it because I always had an arm draped over my shoulders and a ring on my finger. But now, it’s not just the absence of that anchor that hits me; it’s the awareness that I’ve never really experienced being single. I met Lucas less than a year after breaking up with my ex, who I had been with since I was twenty-one. I wasn’t really interested in partying during that time, let alone entertaining the idea of a one-night stand because the wounds from losing my parents were still healing. I was low for a long time.
I take a long pull from my glass, hoping the alcohol will provide the courage I don’t possess.
“You good?” Gemma checks in.
