To move on with my life.
“We had issues even before the cheating, you know.” I never admitted that out loud to anyone, not even Todd.
“No one is perfect.”
“I’m well aware. Just…just…answer one question for me.”
“Of course.”
“Why did you delay the wedding the first time?”
A few seconds of silence pass by.
“Tell the truth,” I say. “It’s not like it’s going to change anything. We’re over, Todd, but I think we both know we were over long before this.”
“I don’t want to hurt you more than I already have.”
“Just say it.”
“I guess…I guess it was because I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to get married. It wasn’t you, it was…it was me. I didn’t want to settle down yet. Become a husband.”
“Then why did you propose?” I ask, though I could be asking myself a similar question: why did I say yes?
“I don’t know. I loved you then, Charlie. Just like I still do now.”
“Too bad it wasn’t enough.” My eyes fall shut and I’m suddenly hit with a new emotion. Am I actually happy he cheated? That this was the swift kick in the ass I needed to realize that I didn’t really want to get married either?
I thought about breaking things off for weeks before he proposed. We’d been fighting a lot, and I was homesick. But then he asked, and in that moment, I felt hope for us. If only I knew then what I know now.
“Can I see you?” he asks, and before he gives me a chance to answer, his phone call turns into FaceTiming. Whatever. Maybe if he looks at me as I say it, he’ll get it.
“Wow,” he says as soon as I come into view. “I almost forgot how beautiful you are.”
“Don’t do this, Todd.”
“I’m so lonely, Char.”
I cock an eyebrow. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”
“I fucked up, okay? And I’m sorry. Come on, babe, come back to New York. Come home.”
“New York never felt like home,” I remind him. “And you used to get pissed at me for saying that, but it’s true.”
“I know…if I could take it all back, I would. I was an asshole. I see it now. But, babe…” He gets up and moves into the bedroom. Our bedroom. Minus the stuff that I took with me when I left, it looks the same, which isn’t quite as unnerving as I thought it would be.
“You look good,” he tries. “Have you gotten some sun?”
“Oh, loads of it.” He doesn’t need to know I holed up in my childhood bedroom, hiding from the sun like a vampire.
“You always looked good in blue.”
I respond with a roll of my eyes.
“And you know it drove me crazy when you curled your hair like that. I miss running my fingers through it, slipping my hand down the ends and down to your ass.” The blankets rustle. “Do you miss that too, babe?”
I stare at the screen of my phone for a few seconds, hoping to God what I think might be happening isn’t really happening.
“No.”
“We were good together.” He holds the phone back a little farther and yes…it is happening. His hand is in his pants and his lips part. Does he seriously think he can call me up and have phone sex like it’ll fix anything? “Don’t you miss it? The way you got me off…it was unlike anyone else.”
“You’re a fucking joke, Todd. I’d tell you to go fuck yourself, but it looks like you’re already doing that. We are over. Don’t call me again.” I end the call and immediately block his number.
Dropping my phone onto the bed, I close my eyes and lie back down, wanting to retreat under the covers and not deal with anything ever again.
“Fuck,” I grumble and sit up. I run my hands over my face and let out a breath. I just want to get back to normal, and I know that has to start with doing something—anything—other than lying in bed feeling sorry for myself.
Set to go grab my leftovers and eat them while I finally think about everything that happened, I go downstairs and stick the plastic to-go container in the microwave. Carly was right in saying I have to deal with this breakup sooner or later, and I can’t hide here forever, even though I’m certain Mom would happily let me crash here for the foreseeable future.
Life dishes out its fair share of rough patches. You can’t go around them. You have to go through them.Chapter 5Owen“There you go, ladies.” I slide a tray of tequila shots onto the table and make eye contact with a woman who I think introduced herself as Rose. Or was it Rachel? Hell if I know. The only name that matters is mine in this case, because she’ll be screaming it later tonight. “What’s the occasion?”