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They respond in a choir ofoohs.
“And I’m assuming by the way you’re treating her, it didn’t end well?” asks Nathan.
I jump back to that moment standing in front of my apartment, seeing her pale frown as she walked up holding a box of my stuff. The whole breakup took a minute at most. Almost a year of love and commitment and she ended it in sixty seconds.
“No.” I clench my teeth. “It didn’t. And I was miserable after, because I…I really loved her.”
Lawrence scowls. “So now this is all some sort of revenge play? To make her miserable too by doing your chores? That’s a shitty move—and nothing like you.”
It sounds pretty awful hearing it out loud. I’m not even sure how to respond. Because I don’t intend to stop. Especially not now that my old feelings for her are resurfacing. I need her to quit.
“I call bullshit,” says Jamal, plopping down on my bed and making himself comfortable. “You wouldn’t have said yes to her if there wasn’t some part of you that actually wanted her as your agent. I think the revenge aspect is just a cover. I think you still love her but wanted a way to be near her again without risking anything.”
Yes.
I mean no.
God, I don’t even know anymore.
I slap Jamal’s foot. “Get your shoes off my bed.”
“For the record,” Price says in his usual gruff tone. “I think you’re making a mistake. Nora seemed nice. And very capable. I bet she’d make a good agent—and you really need one of those right now.”
“You’re right about one thing. She’s the nicest,” I admit. “Until she decides she’s done with you. And then she’s the coldest person you’ll ever meet.” I’m not sure I could ever trust her again even if I wanted to. Or trust her fully with my career. Better to get her to quit and then I’ll find a different agent afterward. An agent that I can trust to help bring my career back from the pits if I really do overcome this injury…
Lawrence shifts beside me. “You could get your petty revenge, or you could just sit down and talk to her and find some real closure. Get whatever answers you need, then maybe even find your way back to each—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” I say, going to my bedroom door and standing beside it to make my intentions clear: I want them to leave. “I know you guys are trying to help, but I didn’t ask you to. You have no idea what happened between us, and for me, this isn’t a matter of miscommunication. I don’t want to know what her reasoning was. I don’t care. It won’t fix what happened or the pain I felt after. So now—Iplan to get even for a few weeks until she quits and then I’llgo about my life, and I really don’t give a shit what you guys think about it in the meantime.”
And because they’re my best friends and know me way too well, they share a look that says they can see something in my future that I can’t. They leave without any further questions or comments, which is concerning. And also makes me feel guilty as hell.
Once everyone is gone, I go back out to my home gym for the third time today because my body is restless and angry, and this is the only place—the only part of my life—where I don’t feel lost and out of control. This is the only place I can shut out my thoughts and fears and make myself believe that I’m actually working toward something good.
This is all I have to offer, so I’m going to put everything into it.
God, I miss him. More than I’ve missed anything in my life, and this aching won’t stop. I made a mistake—that’s all there is to it. I never should have ended things with Derek, and definitely not as coldly as I did.
And I’m going to get him back.
It’s late and I probably shouldn’t be here right now, but I don’t even care if I look desperate. I am desperate. Desperate to have him back and mend what I broke. I turn the corner in the little breezeway of his apartment complex and freeze. There he is…Derek. My chest tightens just from the sight of him. My mind drinks up the image of his broad shoulders. Shoulders I used to run my hands across, but never will be able to again if I don’t mend this break.
I’m one step from emerging out of the shadows when I realize Derek isn’t alone. He shifts slightly and there’s a woman standing there with him. Her little black dress barely covers her underwear and her long tan legs go on for miles. She is…opposite of me. I watch with a knife in my stomach as she angles her face up to Derek and plants her handsagainst his chest—blond wavy hair sliding off her shoulders down her back. Nausea builds in my stomach as I realize they’re going to kiss. No. We only broke up a week ago…how could he move on so quickly? How could he—
I open my mouth to yell his name as the woman rises on her tiptoes to kiss him. He bends his head to accommodate her, but no words will come out of my mouth. Nothing but hot air releases as I try again and again to yell his name.
And now he sinks his hand into the back of her hair, and I want more than anything to say something or run to him, but heavy sand is growing over my feet and legs, keeping me from moving. My voice is still a whisper no matter how hard I yell his—
BURRRR. BURRRR.
My head shoots up from my pillow, hair curtaining my face.
“Derek!” I yell into my dark room, clutching my arms protectively around myself until I register the soft, worn fabric of the sweatshirt I’m wearing.I’m in my bed…not back in that hallway.And the sound is coming from my phone about to buzz off my nightstand.
I sag a bit and wipe my eyes with my hands, wishing I could wipe that dream out too. The dream that continues to slice me in two every time I experience it again.
Finally, I slap my hand onto my phone and drag it to my face. “What? Hello?”
“Nora.”
