Sometimes I dreamed he was making love to me on the beach.
That was the worst.
No, it wasn’t. The worst was waking up and realizing I was only holding my pillow.
I hadn’t told anyone what had happened. The cashier at the gas station had pointed out a nearby hotel that had a shuttle to the airport, and I gave the valet a twenty to get me on it. I h
ad to pay to have my plane ticket changed to a later flight, but I’d gotten myself back to Ohio. Eventually, I found a taxi driver willing to let me pay an outrageous fare for him to take me all the way to the north side of town and home.
Once I had my phone plugged back in and charging, I’d found a dozen text messages and missed calls from Mare. Not wanting her to hear my voice over the phone, I texted her back to let her know I was home, safe and sound. She had sent me several texts over the next week, asking about my time away, but I had dodged them by saying I would tell her in person. Since then, I had avoided being alone with her.
We had been friends for far too long for her not to know something was wrong, and I didn’t want to answer her questions. If I did, I was going to break down and tell her everything, and I couldn’t risk that. I didn’t want to admit how stupid I was, and I was also terrified to say anything about my last few minutes with Aiden. I didn’t want to even think about what had happened outside that small, Cuban restaurant my last day in Miami.
I’d made an absolute fool of myself by not listening to my inner alarms, and I was positively ashamed. The last thing I wanted to do was admit my stupidity to someone else.
Aiden had tried to call three times that first week I was back. I didn’t answer, and he didn’t leave a voice mail. He didn’t try to call again after that. For all I knew, he was on his way to prison.
I just wanted to forget it all.
So I was back to my normal, boring routine. Chia Head was pissed that first Monday morning, and he gave me quite a lecture on giving vacation notice, but he didn’t fire me. He did make it clear that my actions would be reflected on my next review, though.
Asshole.
I was tired of putting up with Kevin and his idiotic Chia-head demands. As much as I hated the idea, I decided it was time to find a new job. I told Nate I was in the market, and he said he’d get his old recruiter to call me.
In the meantime, I got up with the alarm every morning. I fought traffic on the way to work but still managed to be there on time every day. I went to meetings, answered emails, and kept projects on track. Gabe called to let me know he’d already found a car and didn’t need my help. Mare must have told him about my spontaneous trip because he asked me how I liked Florida, but he got another call, and we didn’t have time to talk about it, thankfully.
I’d avoided any happy hours at Thirsty’s Oasis with excuses ranging from extra workload, to car problems, to headaches. I knew there would be questions, and I didn’t want to answer them. It was also the place I had met him, and I didn’t need the reminder.
I was doing everything I wasn’t supposed to do when it came to getting over a loss. I was avoiding talking about it, thinking about it, and ultimately, I wasn’t dealing with it at all. My thoughts had me tied up in knots, but I didn’t know what to do about it. I had actually considered calling Lo to find out what had happened after I left, but every time I picked up the phone, I couldn’t bring myself to make the call.
At night, I went to bed early and tried to force the memories from my head. It rarely worked, and my sleep was fitful at best. I woke up every night feeling cold and alone, refusing to admit that I missed his presence beside me. I considered bringing Buffy to bed but couldn’t bring myself to be quite that pathetic.
Maybe I needed a cat.
So I trudged on, denying everything.
“I’m going to need updates on all your projects before you leave today,” Kevin said as he appeared at my desk right before five o’clock. “I need the budget numbers and all the key performance indicators.”
“The budget numbers won’t be accurate until accounting gives their final blessing,” I said. “We just talked about that in the last meeting.”
“Well, I need something for my presentation tomorrow.”
“The KPIs are in your email.”
“I need the budgets!”
I looked up at him and felt my stomach tighten.
“I don’t have all the budget numbers,” I repeated. “Like Jeff from accounting said, they can’t confirm anything until the board meeting on Thursday. They’ll sign off on them after the third quarter numbers are in.”
“I don’t know why you are trying to undermine me,” Kevin snapped. “I ask you for the simplest things, and you just can’t seem to deliver.”
I sat up straighter in my chair, trying to figure out just where this tirade originated.
“I’m not sure what you expect me to do,” I said, feeling my face beginning to warm. “I can’t give you something I don’t have, and I can’t just make up budget numbers.”
“I promised them to the execs for tomorrow’s meeting!” He raised his eyebrows and stared down at me like he thought the numbers might just start scrolling across my forehead. “You already have one strike against you due to your mismanagement of vacation time. I really don’t think you can afford another.”