Anger shadows that beautiful memory now. I push myself off the door, steeling my spine. This is not me. I refuse to let his action hurt me. He doesn’t even remember me. Maybe it’s his thing—charming girls with his perfect body and chiseled face, saying all the right things to get what he wants from them. Whatever. I wanted everything that transpired between us just as much. It should feel like a win, but melancholy subdues me.
I pull myself together and take in my small one-bedroom apartment.
Pride engulfs me. This will be the first time I live alone. Maybe it’s not much, but it’s mine. The small kitchen is located on the right side; my juicer sits proudly on the counter. On the left is the living room. A comfy, overstuffed sofa, a green rug, wood and glass tables, and a few plants create a homey ambiance.
My first apartment brings me great content. Two years ago, I took a risk and opened a juice bar, LuKo Juice, with my best friend, Kat.
I am not where I want to be yet, but we have a steady client base and growing profits. Our success is what allows me to rent this apartment after living with Kat and Theo for the past several years, and keeping our small business, which employs five people, going.
Moving to the bedroom, a queen-sized bed occupies most of the space. My gaze falls on the three pictures displayed on the dresser, and a nostalgic smile curls the corners of my mouth. My parentsand me when I was a child. Another is me with them when I graduated from college, and the third one is of my best friend and me when we opened our shop.
I unpack the rest of my things, but my thoughts keep wandering back to Ian. He’s my neighbor. I’m going to see him again, as if it’s not enough having to hear my father talk about him every time we have dinner. For the last few years, I have watched every Super Bowl game with maddening what-ifs messing with my head.
The guy is a living legend, and he’s still so young.
Of course, he forgot about me. He must have a string of women going in and out of his bed. I was just one of many, not worth remembering.
Folding my clothes roughly, I shove them into my dresser.
Done unpacking, I go to the kitchen and prepare a ham and cheese sandwich. Propping my hip against the counter, I stare out the small window, lost in thought.
My phone rings, and I startle, my half-eaten sandwich dropping from my hand and flopping onto the floor, leaving a mayonnaise stain on the tile. Wiping at it quickly with some paper towels, I accept the video call from Kat.
“All set up? I miss you. It’s not the same here without you,” she sighs.
The two of us have been best friends since kindergarten. We’ve been inseparable, but this step was necessary for both of us to gain independence.
“It’s going to be the first night I won’t hear you two going at it,” I say, trying to infuse some levity.
“You’ll miss it. You have lived vicariously through us.” My best friend is unapologetic, and I love her for that.
I giggle. “Shut up already.”
Her face contorts into a pout. “Fingers crossed you find someone to clean out the spider webs that must have gathered between your thighs.”
“Oh my god. It’s not that bad,” I groan.
She lifts an eyebrow. “Right. What you’re doing to your poor veejay goes against human rights.”
“I saw him,” I whisper, but she hears me.
Her eyes widen, looking behind me as if he’ll pop up there. “Where?”
“Why are you whispering?” I ask, whispering back.
“I don’t know. You’re freaking me out.”
“He’s my neighbor.”
Her jaw drops. “No freaking way. Like that’s destiny. Totally.”
I rest my cheek in my palm, sighing. “He didn’t recognize me.”
“Shut the fuck up,” she screeches.
I swear no one has a penchant for drama like Kat does.
I nod, shame swallowing my words.
