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“I know.”
“Showering also would be good,” says Evie, giving my pajamas a long, judgy look.
“Hey, these are clean,” I say, picking at Cooper’s shirt. At least, it was clean when I put it on. But I think that might have been several days ago.
Evie considers me for a moment, then yanks the fuzzy blanket I’ve been hiding under for the last little while.
“Hey!” I say. “It’s fucking freezing in here.”
“You’d be perfectly fine if you were wearing pants,” says Evie, not batting an eye at my bare legs, not even a glimmer of sympathy in her expression. “Shower. Now.”
“Serves you right,” I grumble. “What if I’d been naked under that blanket?”
“It’s a price I’m willing to pay to put an end to that smell.”
I’m pretty sure she’s bluffing about the smell. My apartment’s a wreck and yeah, I probably look like I’ve been hit with every ugly stick in the state, but it’s not that bad. Admittedly, my judgment’s not the greatest these days.
The thought has me hauling ass through my shower routine, scrubbing myself down with more energy than I’ve had in weeks.
Three weeks, to be exact.
Since I’m upright, I might as well at least give cleaning the apartment a shot, though my heart’s not remotely in it. When I emerge from the bathroom, freshly scrubbed and fully clothed against the chill in my apartment and demonstrably not smelly, I find Evie’s made herself at home on my couch, tapping at her phone with her feet propped up on the coffee table.
“Better?” she asks, glancing my way. I nod. “Good. When’s the last time you ate something?” I don’t even get my mouth open when she adds, “Besides ice cream.”
It takes me a minute to remember. “I had a sandwich yesterday.” I’m pretty sure that was yesterday. I know I had ice cream this morning, though. Thank God for grocery delivery.
“That’s what I figured,” she says. “Takeout will be here any minute.”
“You’re a good friend.” I say it like it’s a joke, but she knows I mean it. Considering I’ve only known her a couple of months, Evie’s been a rock, the one person checking on me after Cooper and Drew and I broke up. Even my own mother hasn’t called, though I’m hardly surprised by that after our last conversation.
“Damn straight,” says Evie. She gives me a long look but whatever she’s about to say is interrupted by a buzz. “There’s the food.”
“Pizza?” I ask.
“Salad for you, Mrs. Ben & Jerry.”
“Polygamy jokes. You’re fucking hilarious,” I say, rolling my eyes. Only Evie. While she’s picking up the food from downstairs, I unearth my phone from the mountain of pillows on the couch, taking a moment to clear the clutter off the coffee table so we actually have somewhere to put the food when she gets back.
I’ve gotten in the appalling habit of checking my phone every forty-five seconds or so, which is particularly unhelpful given the lack of communication from my lovers. Ex-lovers. Whatever.
I don’t know why this breakup is so bad. You’d think getting dumped by three fiancés would have been worse than the end of such a short, wild fling.
Except it wasn’t a fling, was it?
It was wild and it was crazy and it only lasted six weeks and a handful of days. But somehow those rat bastards wormed their way in and took over every last inch of my heart. There’s no room in there for anybody else—not even the men I thought I loved enough to marry. And the thought of ever letting anybody else get that close again, after Drew and Cooper… it makes me physically ill.
You did the right thing. You know you did.
Cold comfort. I have my self-respect, though, and that’s enough. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
The vibration of my phone startles me so hard, I drop the phone on the floor, not a little alarmed to see my mother is calling. Something must be seriously wrong.
“Mom?” I answer. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“Oh, calm down, Bailey,” she says, sounding annoyed. It’s a relief to hear. If Mom’s annoyed, probably nobody died. “Is that really how you answer your phone? Honestly. I raised you better than that.”
It’s a testament to how hard my heart is pounding that I don’t call her out on that extra heaping pile of bullshit. Before I open my mouth to answer, she continues.
