I turn and walk out.
I’m done.
Done with him.
Done with her.
Done with this job.
Done.
CHAPTER ONE
ALYSSA
THE NEXT DAY - SATURDAY
How is this my life? How did I get here?
I must have done something especially heinous in one of my past lives to make the gods believe I deserve the shitstorm that has overtaken my life.
Why me? I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t want to walk into work yesterday to find my boyfriend of four years fucking one of my closest friends. I didn’t ask to be so shocked that I dropped the tray of hot coffee I was holding on the floor, splashing my shoes in the process, and wasting the delicious caramel and vanilla flavored goodness all over the carpet. And I especially didn’t ask for my boyfriend to blame me for his affair, then text me five minutes later telling me I was fired because of it.
I guess Christopher not being able to keep his dick out of Felicia’s vagina is all my fault. Apparently wanting to have a job and make my own money makes me a horrible girlfriend. I’m sorry I had a shitty childhood, living in foster homes since the day I was born. I didn’t ask for that, but those were the cards I was dealt so I did the best I could for myself and made my own life better.
Since I was old enough to know that no one would help me but me, I promised myself that I would always been self-sufficient. That’s not to say I didn’t want someone to be with, a partner to share a future with, because I very much do. I’ve always dreamed of getting married one day and having a couple kids, a family of my own, but I didn’t think having a career meant I couldn’t have both.
Christopher and I met at work, about a week after I got hired at a law firm in downtown Milwaukee. I was twenty-two, had just graduated with a business degree, and started working in the finance department at one of the largest firms in the state. Ididn’t know who he was, or what job he did, the first few times we ran into each other in the break room, but that didn’t stop the sparks from flying. All I knew was that a good looking man kept asking me out for drinks, but I didn’t want to risk my new job so I always politely declined.
It didn’t take me long to realize Christopher was a junior lawyer who worked two floors up, in a position he was essentially being spoon fed because the firm was founded by his grandfather. Finding that out initially made me pull back from him even more. He was trying to climb his way up the ladder to partner and I was just a newbie little fish who was swimming in the big pond for the first time and trying not to drown. I didn’t want to come across as the ‘cliché employee’ who was only working there to sleep with someone with more seniority, so I tried to stay in my own lane and just came to work every day to do my job. He eventually wore me down.
Six months later, after some more serious flirting and wooing on his part, Chritopher wore me down and we started dating shortly after he was promoted to partner. Everything was going good, or so I thought, for the couple years. We both worked crazy, long hours trying to prove ourselves. We saw each other on occasional weeknights and almost every weekend, and I was loving my life.
Christopher would drop hints every so often that I should move in with him, but I was living in my own apartment and very happy to stay there. I was making a good amount of money, paying my own bills, and even had a decent chunk left over each month to put into savings. For a foster kid who grew up with hand-me-downs and eating state-funded free lunches every day, I was proud to be living on my own. I didn’t want to give that up.Christopher said he understood, and the times he would ask me to move in happened less and less often, until he hadn’t brought it up again in over the last year.
But I guess my independence was reason enough for him to have sex with his personal assistant. His personal assistant, aka the friend who I gave a glowing reference for to get said job, apparently gives him what he needs because I’m too busy with my own job . . . I hope they are happy together.
SIX DAYS LATER - FRIDAY
Tossing one last pair of shoes into my second suitcase, I zip it shut, slide it onto the floor, and sit for the first time since I started this packing fiasco. I took a week to veg alone in my apartment, doing nothing but ordering takeout, watching murder documentaries, and wallowing in my self-pity, but this morning I decided it was time to do something. Laying back on my bed, I hold my phone up above my face, and video call my best friend.
“Hellooooo,” Beth’s cheerful voice echoes through my bedroom as her beautiful face fills my screen. “Only one month ‘til you get here.”
“About that—” I let my voice drawl out slowly. I try to fight a smile, because the reason I’m calling her isn’t the greatest, but I just can’t help it. My best friend is such a happy-go-lucky, cheerful person, it is infectious.
“Oh no!” Even her worried, concerned expression is adorable. “What's wrong? Whose ass do I need to kick?”
“No one. Yet.” I know if I tell her about the affair now over the phone, she will want to talk about it all night long, but I can’t do that yet. I want to see her and be with her when I drop the bomb. Because I know as soon as I start talking about it, she’ll want to go all best-friend-beast-mode, so I can’t tell her yet.
Beth’s face gets super close to the screen, the worried pull of her brows makes me want to smack a kiss right smackdab on her forehead. “Seriously, Alyssa. Are you okay?”
I sit up and quick point the camera to show her my suitcases lined up at the end of my bed, then bring it back to my face. “Remember that spare room you always bug me about using if I ever needed a vacation?”
Her smile grows so big and she starts shaking the phone in excitement. “It's ready and waiting for you to get here. You know this.”
“What would you say if I said I could be there tomorrow and would stay all the way through ‘til after the wedding?”
“I’d say, get your ass to Galena, girlfriend!” she shouts. “We’ve got some serious catching up to do!”
