I crank up the water temperature, pile my hair on top of my head, and stand under the spray, letting the heat hit my tense shoulders and cascade down my body.
The hot water makes me think of last night in the hot tub and I’m left confused all over again by how it ended. Maybe my initial fear was spot on, and Luke really does hook up with a different girl after every show, then leaves his crew to dispose of them to avoid any uncomfortable farewells.
Until that time, I was having the most amazing night of my life. At least I hadn’t done anything to put my health, or my heart, too much at risk. And yes, Luke is fun and intriguing. He’s so smoking hot. If not for the odd send-off, I would be falling head over heels for him.
I really do want to fall in love, but this doesn’t feel like love. Right now, it barely even feels like, well,like. And I am fairly sure that’s a stepping stone on the highway to love.
If I’m honest, it feels like lust. Sure, I’d love a healthy dollop of sexual chemistry when I hopefully do fall in love. But love and lust—they aren’t the same. I’m not that naïve. Or that desperate. I need more than fireworks. And I will not be disrespected like my mother. My voice will be heard and valued.
I tip my head back, rinse the conditioner, and then gently wring my hair out. I turn off the water and step out into the steamy bathroom. Looking at the fogged mirror reminds me of McHottie and our intense experience in my bathroom.
As I stare at my cloudy reflection, I face the reality that maybe I am wrong about everything. Maybe I am not the beautiful, strong, confident woman I’ve been playing at. Maybe my soulmate doesn’t exist, and I don’t get a happily ever after. Maybe I don’t even get a happy for right now. The run of rejections sting.
I reach out and draw a sad smiley face in the condensation on the mirror where my face would be. As the water coalesces from the little eyes I made, running down like tears, I give myself a small shake.
This is going nowhere good, fast. I realize I can’t wait to get back to my little sanctuary, where I can lose myself in my work, surrounded by my macabre taxidermy and oddities. Hang out with Val Helsing, who won’t give me emotional whiplash with sinful smiles and magic hands. I can distract myself by tracking down the next big thing for my store and finalize my plans for Europe.
I’m suddenly desperate to get the hell out of Philadelphia where they can shove their brotherly love crap where the sun don’t shine. My shop is safe. I know the rules. My business hopes and dreams are attainable. I know what I’m doing there.
Why do I push myself to reach for more? To be more than I am and believe that I could snag one of these awesome guys and what, ride off into the sunset? There’s a reason I’ve always been a little snarky and sarcastic. This right here, this is the reason.Stick to your wheelhouse, Lieshe,I chide myself.
I barely dry my hair and throw it into a quick braid. In my rush, I don’t even put on my moisturizer, despite my usual devotion to skin care. I stomp around the room, shoving things into my large bag with huffs of annoyance at myself for leaving stuff strewn all over the room when all I want to do is get home.
I slip on my Converse, give the room one last glance to make sure I have everything, and head down to the valet station. I check out from my phone on the hotel app while riding the elevator down, throwing my key in the return box as I pass through the lobby.
I toss a tight smile and a five-dollar bill to the valet when he delivers my VW beetle back to me. Slipping into my vintage car brings a modicum of relief to the tightness in my chest and swirling in my veins. I begin to build my armor back up with layers of familiarity.
I bring up directions on my phone and head back to the convention center, yet again, to pick up the purchases from the holding service that I am not having shipped from the vendors.
Navigating the mile of traffic quickly, I pull around to the back where the pickup area is. Half of me hopes Luke, or someone from the show, will be there packing up, while the other half hopes in time, I can just keep this as a memory of a fantastic adventure and tease out the feeling of being cast aside. Forgotten.
As I reach the pickup area, there are just a couple of cars loading up, no sign of anyone from the show anywhere. I head over to the warehouse gate and give my name, thankful for the nice young guy who helps me load some boxes into my car.
I’m happy I could ship most of my purchases, since there isn’t much room in the bug unless I put the top down. I get back in the driver's seat and buckle my seatbelt when my phone chimes with a text from Mindy.
Mindy
Hope the expo was good. You doing ok?
No. No, I’m not. Trust Mindy for perfect timing. I don’t know that I want to get into it right now, though, when I need to spend the next few hours on the road and escape back to the safety of my own little world.
Lieshe
It was fine. What’s up with you?
Mindy
Just thinking of you and missing you.
Lieshe
Miss u
Mindy
Get together soon?
I’m hit with a wave of loneliness, making the rush to get home feel less appealing. I wish, as I do every day, that I could call my mom. Sure, I wouldn’t have given her all the spicy details, but I could have confided in her. And she would have known just what to say in her own quiet way.
