She pulls back, her voice sharpening. “What? Are you kidding?”
“Nope,” I say, popping the “P.”
“So soon after?—”
“Yup…”
The cherry on top? The one person in the world I could call who could make this even a little better, died a couple of weeks ago. Gran was always my safe space, and now…
“What the hell. Are you okay?”
“Uh…” There it is—the burning behind my eyes creeps in, and a lump forms in my throat. “I don’t think so.”
She sets my suitcase down on the bottom step of the staircase before motioning to the living room.
“Wine?” She pulls a blue scrunchie from her wrist to wrap around her long dark waves.
Nodding, I trail her through the living room into the open kitchen.
I saddle up at the island, ready to drown whatever feelings are trying to bubble up in my stomach.
She pulls a bottle from the fridge. I flinch when she drives the corkscrew into the top, feeling the similarity to what Casey just did to my heart. He might as well havedriven his hand into my chest and pulled it out. It’s sure as hell not in my body anymore despite the pounding I’ve been listening to since I left his office.
I’m convinced it’s a phantom pulse because it can’t possibly be the actual organ.
She slides a glass to me.
The tears finally dried up about halfway here, but it wouldn’t take much to turn them back on. I’m not tough. Tears come easily and overstay their welcome. It’s anger I struggle with. I want to be mad. I want to hate the people who hurt me. I want to hold a grudge so fierce that you’d fear bursting into flames. But I can’t. Forcing those emotions feels like I’m a rubber band being stretched too far.
She leans forward, resting her elbows on the granite. “So, what happened? You guys always seem so happy.”
I scoff. “Oh, that’s the best part. He’s been fucking the receptionist.”
“Wait, what?”
“Yep.” I laugh even though it’s not a bit funny. “I guess helovesher.”
My eyes stay on the wine swirling in the glass as I bring it to my lips.
“You have to be shitting me.”
My brows lift as I suck down as much of the liquid as I can in one gulp.
Setting the glass down, I say, “Oh, and he told me in the office with her right outside the room.”
She probably knew he was about to do it. I keep picturing the two of them leaving the office together after I stormed out.
How long had he been telling her he was going to end it with me? God, how long have they even been sleeping together?
I didn’t ask enough questions. I just sat there like an idiot. My brain turned to mush, and the only thing I could hear through the fog wasrun, get out!So, that’s what I did.
“What a piece of shit! Did you kick her ass on the way out?”
When I don’t answer, she huffs. “Of course you didn’t. Did you even say anything? Please tell me you at least gave her a big old fuck you as you left.”
“I flipped her off.”
She groans. “I guess that’s better than nothing.” With a sharp exhale, she shakes her head. “I wish you’d be a little meaner. I would’ve trashed the place on my way out.”
