“I’m sorry . . . I don’t know why I’m being such a bitch. I—”
I’m cut off by Ellie raising her hand and saying, “I told you—we’ve been where you are right now. Everything sucks. No need to apologize. Just go get dressed and brush your hair.Pleasebrush your hair, or even better, shower,” she says pushing me towards the stairs.
“Yes, ma’am,” I sass right back, smiling. Feeling myself warm up to the idea of doing something other than just hanging out at home in sweatpants.
As I wash my hair, I can feel the frustration I first had at seeing them on the front porch melt away. Is there really anything better than washing your hair?
*****
“Where are we? This isn’t the mall,” I ask as we pull into the parking lot of what looks like an abandoned warehouse.
“A quick pitstop—and we’re not going to the mall, we’re making you enter your Dua Lipa Era,” Ellie says with a sparkle in her eyes.
“My Dua Lipa Era?” I ask, confusion lacing my voice.Dua Lipa Era? What is she talking about? Now I’m feeling my age. It’s clear they can’t be older than Levi.
“Yeah you know:New Rules,IDGAF,Sweetest Pie,Training Season?” Lacey continues.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say as we walk into the building.
“Your new you. Where you let go of everything that asshole did to you, where you get to reinvent yourself, and have hot sweaty sex with strangers. Your Dua Lipa Era,” she explains.
Before I can ask her to elaborate, we’re interrupted by a guy with slicked-back black hair, dressed in all black, and abored expression on his face, standing behind the counter we’ve apparently arrived at.
“Ellie?” the guy asks.
“Yes, that’s us,” she answers.
“Perfect, room six is ready for you three. Your playlist is ready for you, if you all could just sign this waiver.”
“Why do I need a waiver?” I ask.
“Ask no questions. Trust us, just sign. You’re gonna feel so much better after this! I dragged Ellie here last year when JJ was being a dick,” Lacey answers, throwing a wink to Ellie and holding a clipboard and pen towards me.
Not giving myself a chance to second guess what I’m getting myself into, I grab the pen and sign on the dotted line. What do I have to lose?
“Yesss!” Ellie says as he wraps me up in a quick hug.
“Here you go, ladies,” the guy says, handing each of us a pair of full-body coveralls and safety glasses. As he pulls three shot glasses and a bottle of tequila out from under the counter, he says, “Coveralls, safety glasses, and gloves must stay on at all times while in the room. You have three hours.”
“Bottoms up!” Ellie says, handing Lacey and I each a shot glass.
Both girls grab one of my hands and drag me down a hallway with a bunch of numbered doors, and before I can question what we’re doing, they pull me into room six. Closing the door, they hand me a sledgehammer, both smiling wide. Next thing I know, Dua Lipa’s voice fills the room. As I grab the sledgehammer Lacey is holding out to me, I share a look with both girls, realizing they brought me to a rage room.
I letallmy anger out on this poor room.
Every swing of the hammer is powered by the anger I have towards Lucas throwing our relationship out like it’s last week’s leftovers.I am fueled by the shame I feel in myself for beingso blind to the reality of my marriage and charged with the pain of believing that I was not enough for my husband; all while knowing that his actions are not my fault. If I’m being completely honest with myself, most of my anger, frustration, and humiliation is towards myself.
I made my bed myself. I chose to marry Lucas; I chose to not question when my gut was telling me something was wrong. I chose to move to Halifax; I chose to do my MBA. I know that I could have left at any minute. I know I would have had friends and family at my back at any moment. But I was too embarrassed. I let my pride and my ego get in the way of my happy-ever-after. And for what? A man that didn’t appreciate me. A man that took every opportunity to bring me down.
With those thoughts, I get even more mad. Mad and sad that here I am, doing exactly what Lucas would want me to do—blaming myself for his shortcomings. For his words, for his actions. None of this is my fault, all I did was fall in love with the wrong guy. Never again.
With the last swing of the sledgehammer, I destroy another side table and promise myself to never fall in love again.
I feel lighter than I’ve ever felt as I walk out of the warehouse, arms linked with Ellie and Lacey. I can’t remember the last time I was this happy. When was the last time I felt like I had girlfriends? I have Summer, but she’s always gone saving the world.
“Ready for round two?” Lacey asks, bringing me back to the present.
“What’s round two?” I asked suspiciously.
