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I enter the building and tap the elevator, still holding my dead phone in my hand like I can actually check it. It’s painful to be so detached from the world, from my world on any given day, but tonight, I’m feeling especially lonely. Yet I know when I charge it, I’ll either be mad because of the texts Rad’s sent or more shattered by the messages he didn’t. It’s a no-win situation that has me dreading the elevator door opening and finding out.
When I enter the apartment, it feels unexpectedly the same, as if I didn’t have my heart broken by the other occupant and could walk into the bedroom and crawl in bed next to him. Rad would swing his arm wide and wait for me to settle before curling it around me. He’d snore lightly if he drank too much and be spooning me in the morning. My toothbrush would have paste on it when I slipped into the bathroom to get ready for bed. And if I called him about having a hard day, which there have been lots of lately, there’d be a hot bath and a glass of my favorite wine waiting for me.
I don’t realize how long I wander through the apartment—remembering all the ways we had started making this our home and how happy he made me—until my stomach growls, bringing me back to reality. I didn’t have time to eat at the reception before my world exploded, but I just lost an hour daydreaming about what could have been.
Now, there’s nothing left of us.
When I open the cabinet, I don’t grab one of my mugs. They don’t speak to me the way I need right now. I choose one of his plain white ones and make a cup of hot green tea with chamomile, hoping it will soothe the choppy waters of my feelings.
Taking my tea, I let it steep while I go into my room—the guest room. Guest. I sigh heavily. I’m such a fool. Why’d I ever believe I could be more than a guest in this apartment? More than a visitor passing through at this stage in Rad’s life? Or anything more than a “perk” that he meets after dark?
“That’s it. I’m just one of the myriads of women coming and going through his revolving elevator door.”
My heart hurts even more under that hot dose of reality. I was clearly not as welcome as I thought I was. Are all men jerks? Apparently, it’s an impossible feat to find the man I’m meant to meet from the four million who live in this city.
And worse, I believed Rad was my soul mate.
I plug in my phone, sitting on the edge of the bed, and stare at the black screen. When just the low battery symbol shows up, I distract myself from the anxiety causing my hands to shake.
I need to busy myself, to take my mind off what will or won’t be on that phone when it recharges.
As I look around, my things feel out of place. I feel out of place. How can I stay here any longer when I know the truth?
Maybe Poughkeepsie was the world looking out for me. The universe knew I’d need an exit plan.
“I need to go,” I say, my voice echoing across the room. “Now.”
Jackson gave me the keys to his apartment. I don’t remember the last time I was there, but I remember it being spacious. I can probably move over to Cade and Cammie’s place in Brooklyn tomorrow since they’ll be on their honeymoon. That will give me the privacy I need and the time to find a new place in Poughkeepsie.
Is that where I’m going?
I’m still confused as to where I’m meant to be, and I’m not sure working in another office will make the move worth it.
I just wonder how messy this will be if Rad and I are no longer speaking. Our friends, mutual events, and my heart are jumbled into this mess. Nothing about this breakup will be clean. But will the others even know we broke up since they didn’t know we were dating to begin with?
The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
My screen comes to life just as I change from my bridesmaid’s dress. Slipping on yoga pants and a baggy T-shirt, I stop on the other side of the bed. I’m nervous to get too close, to have my heart take another hit tonight, but there’s no way I can’t look.
When I see the red dot indicating I have messages, I exhale slowly, and whisper, “Don’t hurt me, okay?” And then I pick up the phone and press the icon. Messages populate from six different people: Jackson, Cammie, Cade, Marlow, Amanda, and Rad.
I’m not sure where to start, though my heart, a glutton for punishment, sure does. I read Rad’s first, scrolling to where they began before the wedding.
