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"Is it because of your ex?"
"Yeah," I admitted heavily. Why lie about it now? I had already turned her down. She crossed her arms like she was cold suddenly.
"Well, I hope you two can work it out," she said shrugging. I apologized again and helped her into the car. I dropped her off and drove back to my place. I sat in the car for about ten minutes before going inside. It was empty when I did, and that sucked. I could have had her tonight. Sasha. I could have fucked her right against the door. Right then, nothing else would have mattered.
I shook my head, taking my shirt off, getting ready for bed. It wasn't going to happen like that. It would take more than some shots and beer to forget Veronica. I didn't know what would have been worse – Screwing that girl and smelling Ron on my sheets the whole time, or being alone and smelling her anyway.
Both sucked either way. Did it matter which was worse?
Chapter Thirty-Two
Veronica
I remembered what I felt the first time I saw it. I hadn't been expecting it. We'd been outside, having a picnic then he just told me to shut my eyes and gave me this gift box. It was bittersweet, thinking about it now. A week after he had given it to me, we had broken up and he had left. I had come so close to getting rid of it, but I never had. It was like I had known somehow that this day was coming.
I rubbed the pink stone between my fingers and played with the gold chain. After he had dumped me, I had felt like the necklace was an insult. I hadn't really worn it at all since he had left the first time. It just brought so much back up.
It would always be associated with him, not just because he'd given it to me, but because of when he gave it to me. It sort of signified the second part of our relationship, when our feelings just stewed over thousands of miles. The time when we had both tried to get on with our lives, but hadn't managed to leave each other behind.
The sun might have been setting outside, I wasn't sure. My blinds had been closed since I had gotten home. I wasn't looking forward to the weekend. I had been waiting for today to come and now that it was almost over, I wondered where he was. Was he still close enough for me to get to? His house, or the airport. Maybe he had been gone for hours already.
It didn't feel good to admit, but this time was easier. The past two weeks had passed robotically. I had gone to class, studied, hung out with Tiff once or twice, even gone to see my parents. I had been in control of the separation this time, but he had made it easy for me. He hadn't called. He hadn't tried to text me or come see me. Nothing.
This was the way I wanted it to be. This was why I told him I didn't want to be together anymore. So he could have the future he always wanted. The one he deserved.
I put the necklace down on the nightstand and rolled onto my face. I had been spending a lot of time in bed, a pathetic attempt to self-soothe. I was doing the right thing by him. He didn't owe me this. I could never ask him for it, I had no right. With the way I had been feeling lately, convincing myself that this wasn't a mistake had been getting a little difficult. Hopefully, once I knew he was gone, a switch would flip and I wouldn't feel like this anymore.
My phone broke me out of my thoughts. It was Tiffany. She had offered to come over tonight with food, and I hadn't had a good enough reason to tell her not to. I didn't figure I'd be very good company, but I had to do something. If she was worried, she wasn't showing it. She wasn't showing it if she was onto me, either. I had made a point to not ask about Roman so I didn't know what if anything they had said to each other.
Her message said she'd be here in ten. I had put my pajamas on when I got home and wasn't going to bother changing. God, I was getting tired of myself. I didn't know how she stayed my friend. I texted her back, asking her to bring wine. Why not? If I was doing this, I might as well commit.
She was knocking at the door a little while later. All my school stuff was on the table, so we just sat on the couch. If everything else had suffered these past couple weeks, my academics had flourished. Diving into schoolwork is a great way to try get over heartbreak. Does wonders for your GPA. Meanwhile, I had been late on rent and had been picking at the same leftover pizza in the fridge for the last three days.
Dinner was lo mein and soup dumplings. Tiff sat across the couch from me, watching me pick at the noodles with my chopsticks.
"I'm worried about you," she said.
"Don't be."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No."
"It's scary how similar the two of you are," she said. She didn't say the two of who – she didn't have to. I knew already.
"Must get annoying after a while," I said uselessly.
"I think he would have liked you to be there, despite everything."
"Been there?"
"At the airport. He left a few hours ago." I sat silently, looking into my plate of half-eaten food. Fuck it, he was gone now, I could say it.
"Did he say anything? About me? Tell you to..." I trailed off, shaking my head.
"Tell me to what?" she asked me gently. I felt my eyes fill and looked down, hating that I felt this way even more, because it was my fault this time.
"I wish I could have been there," I said quietly, dabbing my eyes.
