“Look who’s decided to wake up.” I couldn’t help but cringe, just a little. I would recognize that voice anywhere. “If you’re going to throw the remainder of your life away, Juniper, I’m going to kindly ask you to stop involving me.” He sat at his desk, lookingover his shoulder. His tone was anythingbutkind. “And give me your house key.”
To say I was dumbfounded was the understatement of the year. I don’t remember ordering a cabordriving home. I sent a little prayer to whichever deity took pity on a practically middle-aged divorced woman — surely I had been smart enough to call an Uber, right?
Not smart enough to give them my dad’s address though. That would have been much too easy. Too gracious.
Hell, I’d have rather slept on the floor at the bar. Because sitting here, faced with my ex-husband — who waslivid— was a crueler torment than even I deserved.
Probably.
I slunk off the couch, shoving my hands into my pockets as I searched for my keys. My fingers had just closed around a piece of paper when Joel spoke again. “Your keys are in the bowl by the door. Funny, youfinallyremembered where they belong.”
Didn’t seem funny to me.
Pulling the paper — napkin — out of my pocket, my jaw dropped.
Call me when you’re not drunk or newly divorced.
You can put your money where your mouth is, little fish.
— Barlowe
A number, scrawled across the bottom of the wadded-up napkin.His number.
“If you’re finished…?” His words cut through my bewilderment, harsh and final.
“Leaving.” I said, shoving the napkin in my pocket and grabbing my keys from the entryway. Quickly, I unwound his apartmentkey and tossed it on the hall tree. “Thanks for not kicking me out or calling the cops,” I tossed as I opened the door.
“June—” He called, stopping me in my tracks. I didn’t want to turn, didn’t want to give him any more of my time or my heart. “I’m not the bad guy here.” I glanced back; his arms were held out as if in surrender. “We just didn’t work out.”
My back stiffened as I heard him take a few steps nearer. “But you can’t show up at my home in the middle of the night.” My teeth clenched. “Drunk? All alone? Might give off the wrong impression…” His voice drifted off.
“You—”
“Wearecompatible, physically, Junie. Even someone as daft as you can recognize that.” I resented the way his words attempted to curl around me. The way he could soeasilymanipulate my mind.
Had been.
Had been.
I couldn’t fall for it anymore. “Goodbye, Joel.” I took a step, but his hand curled around my arm before I got any further. Easy — not to hurt.
“Just remember, Junie.” His mouth was near my ear; I could feel his warm breath as he spoke. “Next time, you’ll have to knock. And I’ll let you in, but it’ll be onmyterms.”
I jerked out of his grasp, blinking back the tears as the sun hit my face. I wandered aimlessly for several minutes, trying to get out of the complex before calling another cab. After finally settling down on a curb, I pulled my phone from my bag.
Only to find it dead.
I couldn’t contain them anymore, and tears began to fall. Pressing the palms of my hands into my eyes, I stopped trying to fight it. I sat there for a while; the sun beating down on my head, tears staining my cheeks and my shirt, before I gathered the strength to stand. We —he— lived near a populated area, there would be a payphone.
Once I had located it — after about fifteen minutes of the worst walk-of-shame ever — I pushed the quarter in, dialing the only number I could recall right now.
It rang.
Once.
Twice.
He picked up on the third. “Hey there.” His voice was a balm, an instant moment of comfort and calm in a sea of emotions and poor choices.
