Four days before…
“Sav, look, I really like you babe, but I’m not in a good head space right now. I need some time to focus on myself and I can’t do that while I’m someone’s boyfriend.”
I sit there numbly staring at Trent across the table, my gaze rakes over his handsome face. His eyes, a gorgeous concoction of greenish blue, always reminds of the Indian ocean. His mousy brown hair is kept long and swept back neatly out of his face. Sort of like Leonardo Di Caprio in his younger years. God, I hate that he’s so beautiful. I can’t help but wonder why he chose to date me.
I swallow the painful lump forming in my throat. This jackass is dumping me… again, two days before my birthday. I don’t know why I keep doing this to myself. I know he’s never going to fully commit to me, but I still take him back. I’m such a mug for allowing myself to fall for him when it’s clear he doesn’t give a hot steaming crap about me. At least his excuse this time has more validity than the last time he broke up with me; “You’re just too nice, like all of the time and it’s really frustrating dating a saint.”
A saint? A fucking saint!
Yep, that was a hard blow right in the gut and still to this very day makes my stomach clench painfully. He broke up with me because I’m too nice.
“Not in a good head space?” I repeat slowly and peel off the napkin laid out neatly over my lap. “You know what Trent, why don’t you take all the time you need and while you do you can lose my number and go fuck yourself.” I tell him and slap my napkin on the table as I push my chair back.
Trent stares at me, a startled look on his face as I rise from my seat. “Sav, please don’t be upset. It’s not you, baby doll, it’s me, I’m the problem. You’ve always been a great girlfriend and the last thing I want to do is hurt you. I would like us to remain friends.”
“Wow, friends?” I laugh bitterly and pick up my purse hanging on the back of the chair. “Here’s to your friendship.” I pick up my glass of Rioja and toss it over his crisp white, no doubt costly designer shirt. The exclusive five-star seafood restaurant we are currently dining in falls dead silent as the rest of the patrons watch me empty my over-priced glass of wine all over Trent. He gapes horrified down at his now wine-stained shirt.
“Cheers to all the bullshit excuses you’ve fed me over the last year. You truly are an abominable asshole.” I utter placing the glass on the table and turning to walk out of the restaurant, ignoring the whispers and all the eyes in the restaurant that are following me as I exit.
I exhale when I walk out of the restaurant and bite back the tears that threaten to fall when my eyes prickle. I refuse to shed another tear for that fickle prick. I’m done with him for good his time. My friends are right, I’ve given him more chances than he deserves, and he has let me down with each one. I jump into one of the taxis waiting outside of the restaurant. “Sunrise Village, please.” I tell the driver and he nods in response.
“Rough date?” He questions glancing back at me through the rear-view mirror.
“You could say that.” I utter somberly and he smiles in understanding.
“Well, he must be a real tool to let a beautiful girl like you walk.” He tells me and I force a smile on my face and keep my gaze out of the window.
It’s no doubt that he is a tool, but I’m really starting to question whether there is something wrong with me? Was Trent right? Am I boring? My mother always told me; be the kind of girl your boyfriend would be proud to introduce to his mother. Trent never showed any intention of introducing me to his parents. I mean they’re divorced, have been since Trent was a teenager I know that much, and he very briefly spoke about the broken relationship he has with his father, but he hasn’t mentioned him since and I never pushed him to find out as it was clear he hasn’t or refuses to deal with whatever issues he has with his family.
Nevertheless, he is no longer my problem.
* * *
“Hannah, am I boring?”
My best friend and roommate glances over at me quizzically from her cross-legged position on the sofa, the chopsticks full of noodles hovering over her mouth. “What? Of course you’re not.”
I swirl my own chopsticks through my Singapore noodles and sigh, “I can’t stop wondering why Trent doesn’t want to commit to me. Maybe I’m not adventurous enough for him and that’s why he gets bored quickly. I mean he does keep mentioning how much of a good girlfriend I am and how I’m a saint. I don’t understand how that could be a bad thing, you know? Since when has doting on your boyfriend been a bad thing?”
Hannah places her chopsticks in her box of noodles and licks her lips before she sighs. “Savi, please don’t start questioning your qualities because of a moron like Trent. He’s a narcissistic, mind-fucking, shithead that has never been deserving of a great girl like you.”
“What if he’s right though Han? What if I am boring?” I argue, dropping my chopsticks in the box and setting it aside.
“You’re not boring,” Hannah presses trying her best to assure me but when I give her a dubious look she sighs and sets her box of noodles down too. “Okay, hear me out. Maybe, you’re a conventional good girl who prefers to play on the safer side than take risks, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Your wifey material, the type of girl that guys end up with after they have their fun, you know?”
My shoulders slump, “What you’re trying to say is I’m the one they will eventually settle for. The loyal, good little housewife.” I utter dryly. Hannah shakes her head and takes ahold of my hand, and she smiles warmly, her brown eyes like warm gooey chocolate gaze into mine.
“No babe, that’s not what I mean at all. Girls like me, we’re only worthy so long as we can provide a good time, but you, you’re the one they choose to stay with forever.”
I groan and cover my face with my hands. “Oh God, he is right. I’m too prim and predictable. Even in the bedroom, my preferred position is missionary for goodness’ sake! It’s not Trent’s fault, it’s mine! I have nothing interesting about me. I’m tedious and that’s why he keeps dumping me!” I exclaim and get off the sofa to start pacing the small space of our living room. Hannah watches me with her dark brows knitted tightly. “You know what, no, I refuse to go down as the boring safe choice. I can be fun and carefree. I’m interesting and I’m going to show that good for nothing scoundrel how slutty I can really be. Get up girlfriend, we’re going out.”
Hannah blinks up at me, “Girlfriend?” she iterates.
I wince, “Yeah, I’m not cool enough to pull that one off, am I?”
Hannah laughs and shakes her head, “Sorry boo but no, in fact I’m going to do you a favor and forbid you from ever using that term again.”
“Fine, get Vee up here too, I’m on a mission to get my slut on!”