Page 89 of Tastes Like Summer

Right back to where I started at the beginning of summer: miserable and alone.

Once I’m back in Denver, by the grace of a higher power, it doesn’t take long to find a new place to live in a killer area. The rent is affordable and the space is reasonable—a combination that isn’t always easy to find. It’s like the universe felt sorry for me and my shattered heart, and decided to cut me some slack in this one area.

“That is the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard in my entire goddamn life,” Rosie says over FaceTime when I tell her how things ended between me and Michael.

It’s almost midnight, I’m two glasses of wine in, Cami and Emi are asleep in their shared bedroom in our new apartment, there are moving boxes all over the place, and the word tired has lost all meaning to me. The level of emotional and physical exhaustion I feel right now is immeasurable.

I’m supposed to be unpacking the rest of our things before the girls start school tomorrow. Instead, I’m being berated by my sister over the phone for making the right choice. Because it was the right choice.

“It had to end that way, and you know it,” I tell her, almost in tears. The pain in my chest hasn’t subsided for a single moment since leaving Michael’s office after having sex. If anything, it’s gotten worse with every day. Being buried in work, in the move, and in the kids’ beginning of year school activities has done nothing to numb the ache and emptiness.

“Do I? Because it doesn’t seem like it was the right choice.” She tsks and takes a sip of her wine.

In the background, I can hear her fiancé, Asher, cleaning up their dinner. Recently engaged, my sister looks like she’s glowing, and I can’t help but feel a little jealous. I want that happiness for myself, but I know it’s not for me.

“Sorry, weren’t you the one who told me to have a fling this summer?” I ask, a hint of venom in my voice.

“Yes, but⁠—”

“Exactly. Well, I had a fling. And flings, by definition, are temporary.”

“The thing is, you didn’t have a fling. Flings are casual, and you had a deep emotional connection with this guy.”

I shrug and look away from the screen. It’s useless to try to deny it.

“So that’s it. You walked out, your panties in your pocket, and never spoke to him again?”

“God, that sounds so… crude.” I grimace.

“Did you?”

“Of course not. We talked a bit after. I mean, we had the girls to face, you know? We had another playdate for the kids at my place before leaving, but… It was rough, to see them together one last time.”

“And what about you guys? You just didn’t talk about it again?”

“He… tried.” I chew on my lip as I remember our last conversation. The look in his eyes, the broken sound of his voice as he begged me to discuss it once again. “But I held firm, kept my eyes on our daughters as they played in the pool and shut him down with a No so final it surprised even myself. It was awful.”

There’s a beat before either one of us speaks again.

“Dee, I’ve never seen you look so… miserable.”

“Wow, thanks,” I deadpan.

“I’m serious. You were so happy when you guys were hooking up, and I don’t think it was just because you were having sex regularly. Even before the first time you slept together. Even when you still hated him, you had this spark in your eyes. Now…” She exhales and shakes her head. “Now you look really fucking miserable.”

“You just said that.”

“It’s worth repeating.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m fine. Like I said, it wasn’t going to work out. How could it?”

She nods slowly a few times, considering my answer. “I understand the odds would’ve been stacked against you, but don’t you think it would’ve been worth trying?”

“I didn’t want us to destroy each other, Rosie. I mean, sure, things could’ve started off okay. But then what about once we’d get really busy? Or we had our first fight? What if I became so annoying he left me? Or what if we went too long without seeing each other that he cheated on me?”

“From what Barbara has told me about Michael⁠—”

“You’ve talked to Barbara about my love life?” I ask, a little too loudly.