Ben will never be mine.
Lisa will never let us be together.
44
Walking alone a day before Christmas is its own kind of hell.
The city's buzzing, people are already celebrating, rushing with champagne bottles peeking out of their bags.
I got one bottle peeking out of my Chanel, too—picked up from the one-dollar shop down the street.
I hope it gives me a nice headache or some delusional strength because I feel lonely.
Sure, I'm not entirely lonely, because I've got my Lu.
She wants me to join her squad tomorrow at her new studio in Dogpatch, but I have no intention of seeing people in love, so I dodged it.
Carl sent me a very cute photo of Bridgette with a silver dress on and an invitation to his party in her mouth:
Emma, darling.
Champagne, low-calorie cake, jazz, and misfits.
You are cordially invited to attend an Evening of Great Importance.
Naturally, your attendance is not merely requested but morally imperative.
Dress code: protagonist energy.
Yours in literary sin,
Carl
I cracked a little smile, sent a heart emoji in response, butstill—no. Swipe left. Let him believe that I am going with Ben to my Christmas dream.
Sure, the party will sparkle, will be grandiose, I get it. But it doesn't matter how many interesting people are around you if you don't have that one person that you want.
By the time I make it down to the waterfront, the air has that clean, knife-edged chill that cuts through everything.
I pull my coat tighter, watch the city burn itself onto the river.
Reflections. Resolutions.
Where will I be next year?
God knows.
For once I don't want more. I want less. Less complicated.
When I reach my apartment, the quiet greets me like my new lover.
I pop open the champagne early, and listen to the fizz fill the silence.
The first sip tastes awful, the second one too—a celebration gone stale. But I drink it anyway, small sips between half-hearted pep talks.
I glance up at the gold clock above the door, 7:32 p.m., announcing it's almost time, and check myself in the mirror.
My light brown waves have grown, grazing the middle of my back now, and I'm dressed in black stockings, black boots, black coat. A silhouette, not a woman.
