My stomach dropped.Fuck, man, I hated when my ribbing backfired on me. Glaring at my phone, I typed harder, as though I could take my frustration with my brother—and my goddamn miserable life—out on the screen.
When did you become a smartass?
BLAKE: You know, I was just talking to someone about Silicon Valley the other week…
BLAKE: What was her name again?
NOAH: Oh, yeahhhh. Was it Allie?
BLAKE: Nooo, that’s not right.
NOAH: Kellie?
BLAKE: Close, but…
I hate all of you.
I did. I really, really fucking did. At least right now.
Normally, my siblings didn’t dare bring up Ellie, even though I knew how much they loved her, how much they missed her and wished we would get back together. But seeing her again seemed to have opened the floodgates. Maybe they thought that since I’d survived Noah’s engagement party, I could survive the teasing. Maybe they figured that since I’d managed—for the most part—to act my usual, good-natured self in Boston, I hadn’t been fucking dying inside all night.
I was still dying inside. The last few weeks, after walking away from Ellie in her dark hotel room, had been hell. I’d left a part of myself behind—in that bed, with her—and the hollowness that had been existing inside me for the last five years grew bigger. A pit I couldn’t escape.
So yeah, I really didn’t feel like dealing with their shit.
NAT: What did *I* do?!
Nothing today, but you did bring my ex-girlfriend to our brother’s engagement party without telling me. So, I reserve the right to be mad at you, too.
NAT: Alright, fine. I’m sorry about that. I thought by now it wouldn’t be so bad.
I couldn’t imagine there would ever be a time when it wouldn’t fucking destroy me to see Ellie in a crowded room and not be able to walk up to kiss her.
And if, God forbid, I ever saw her in a crowded room and someoneelsecame up to kiss her?
That might just be the goddamn end of me.
The worst part was, I knew it was bound to happen eventually. Eleanor Summers was gorgeous, intelligent, funny—every man’s fucking dream.
My fucking dream. Still.
I might call her my ex-girlfriend, but in my head, she was everything but that. Even when we were together, I never found a label that fit what we really were. And now that we were apart, I still didn’t know how to categorize what she meant to me.
The only thing that ever really mattered before was that she was mine.
And now, the only thing that I ever really thought about was that she wasn’t.
Because she left. And it didn’t look like she ever planned on coming back.
NAT: I mean, it went fine, right?
I snorted into my beer before taking a long gulp.
Fine.
Yeah, sure, it wentfine.
Fuck that.
