Page 61 of Fate Fiction

He’d somehow mentioned my dream destination, as if he couldn’t get more perfect. My stomach flipped.

“I made entire Pinterest boards planning a trip to Iceland, Nick and I were talking about taking the trip in the next year or two.”

“Nick…your ex?” He’d just been an ambiguous “ex” until this moment, I hadn’t realized that I never spoke of him by name.

“Have I never actually said his name out loud?”

Nick was omnipresent, a constant in my life for years and now I had gone days without so much as saying his name?

“I don’t believe you have,” Evan still was on edge a bit. I didn’t know why, nor did I want to pry.

Deep down I worried I was the cause.

“Weird, then yes. Nick, my ex. He and I wanted to go to Iceland, and I was thrilled because he actually wanted to do something with me that wasn’t going to a bar.”

“I’d say Iceland is an upgrade.”

“It is. And it also sounds really stupid now saying that all my ex and I really did for six years was drink and sleep together. We did other things too, but the last two years of the relationship that is really all we did together.”

In those last two years he was also drinking with and sleeping with Kaitlyn, and now I wondered if Kaitlyn had secured the spot of the fun girlfriend who got to enjoy life with Nick and I was the side piece that got sex and late nights at dive bars.

Regret seeped in, I’d lost so much time. Years I could never get back, days I could have spent doing anything else. I could have pursued my dream, I could have figured out what my dreams even were. Everything I assumed I’d shed on the dirt road days threatened to resurface in ugly bubbling tears.

“Did he not realize what he was missing out on?”

“We got stale, and I accepted that this was what happened in relationships. I didn’t dislike him, he wasn’t mean to me, he was just, nothing. And I let myself be okay with it.” I became mad that I was sitting next to one of the literal hottest men alive—at least according to People magazine a few years back—and I was thinking about my absolute dumpster fire of an ex.

“You truly don’t seem like the type to be ok with being treated poorly.”

“I hate conflict, and I was happy enough, or so I thought, so I didn’t want to stir the pot. Truthfully for a while I believed being alone was worse than being in a lackluster partnership. But one day I looked around and realized I was in a relationship and still was alone.”

A flash of the first night alone in the apartment passed by, I still sometimes turned over in bed and was surprised by the empty space beside me.

“Being alone isn’t a bad thing though.”

“No, but it’s unfamiliar when you’ve been coupled to someone for so long, even if it was less than perfect.”

“I think being with someone is as unfamiliar to me as being alone is for you.”

“You don’t date much?” Come to think of it, outside of his partnership with Melinda, I couldn’t think of another notable relationship Evan had publicly been in.

“I didn’t want to. Especially not after things with my ex dissolved. I treated solitude like a God. I think I still do sometimes.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Everything in my life requires other people, I have to have a publicist, an agent, and an assistant. And honestly for most that’s a pretty bare bones staff. I crave independence, but my life revolves around other people and making choices that will affect them. I think rather than force another person into the chaos, I decided to focus on myself as much as I could.”

“You know it’s funny,” I continued. “I spent almost my entire twenties with someone only to realize now that he was never going to be the right one for me, so maybe you made the right choice in picking solitude.” That was the understatement of the century, as time passed I became convinced that I deserved some level of financial compensation for putting up with his bullshit for so long.

“It was certainly preferential to being in love with a paparazzi magnet.” Evan looked at the fire. “It was almost funny how superficial my first real relationship was.” He was talking about this superstar like it was just another ex, like he and I had this one thing we could bond over.

“Was it?” I asked. “From the tabloids it always⁠—”

Evan turned to me and scrunched his eyebrows. “Oh Dani, I thought you knew better than to believe everything the tabloids say. I loved her, but I knew nothing about her and we only saw each other a few times a month at most.” I glanced at Evan in the chair, his large frame had shrunk, he was like an awkward teenager. “I was twenty one and dating my celebrity crush, I mean I had posters of her on my wall when I was a teenager, it felt like a dream.”

“Well sometimes the people we dream about are the ones who ultimately disappoint us the most,” I offered. It’s how things would turn out with Evan, too, after this week ended.

He nodded. “Everything was coordinated by our publicists. They’d be the ones buying the flowers I gave her and making dinner reservations. It was a different kind of acting gig.”