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The four-letter word that’s ruined my life.
NOAH
Misery really does love company.
It’s been two weeks since the day Morgan walked out on me. I know I’ve been a prick toward her, but I refuse to conform to someone she wants me to be—a man who’s willing to share her.
Haden and Presley offer to take over the account, sympathetic to my personal issues. I never want my personal life to screw with my work life, and so I continue doing what I need to do and communicate with Scarlett rather than Morgan.
Scarlett’s great to talk to, and although she has an extremely hectic schedule, she finds time to chat without bringing up the subject of her sister. “You would totally love it out here,” she tells me over the phone one afternoon. “Desert heat, and girls are dancing in teeny tiny bikinis.”
“Another stripper movie?” I tease while typing an important email to a client.
“Of course, you’d say that.” She laughs. “This is a romantic comedy, something different for me. My main lead is new to Hollywood, and they’re really trying to push the chemistry between us.”
“C’mon.” I smile through my words. “You’re telling me that’s forced? You can charm anyone.”
“He has a small dick,” she blurts out.
I stop typing my email. “And you know that because…”
“Because he’s wearing white trunks, and it’s obvious. I keep telling his publicist that it’ll really hinder his career if nude pictures leak out.”
“Not to delve too much into the semantics, but perhaps it’s cold. Unless you have him pinned to a bed and stand in front of him naked, you’ll never really know.”
“I guess it’s best that we leave it a mystery, then. I’m not really a pin-a-guy-to-a-bed type of girl.”
With my pen tapping against the glass desk, I fight the urge to continue this topic. I’m not in the mood, anyway. Or at least that’s the lie I spin to myself.
“So, what are your plans this weekend aside from Haden and Presley overloading you with edits?” I ask, quickly changing the topic.
There’s a moment of silence, followed by some voices in the background. She must be placing her hand on the receiver as I’m unable to translate the muffled sounds into words.
“I… uh… family stuff. A birthday,” she follows in a hushed tone.
“Oh… who?” Immediately, I regret asking the question, knowing all too well I won’t like the answer.
“Michael.”
I struggle to fight off the jealousy, gritting down and holding back my words because they aren’t aimed at Scarlett. It looks like everyone will be playing happy families this weekend while I get drunk and drown my sorrows in some random pussy.
With my mood rapidly declining, I tell Scarlett that I need to go and finish some work. As soon as I hang up the call, I rest my head on the back of my chair and stare at the ceiling—my favorite pastime of late.
I honestly believe that as time goes on, I will forget all about her. That some other woman will pique my interest, and I would move on effortlessly. I didn’t expect feeling sick every morning when I wake and don’t anticipate the constant depressive state that comes with that feeling like my whole world revolves around her and nothing I do or say will make it go away.
And sometimes, I rejoice in a moment of feeling like my old self. Yet, it’s always short-lived. Something or someone reminds me of her, and I’m brought back to reality faster than you can say the word ‘broken.’
I’ve never felt so alone, walking through this like a nomad. Kate has been busy with work, according to Lex. I find myself distancing myself from her because frankly, I rely on her more than I care to admit. Equally so, she doesn’t reach out to me. Something changed during her last visit. I have enough drama in my life and am not in the right frame of mind to add more.
I put on a brave face, never allowing anyone to see how much it affects me. Haden and Presley treat me like I’m dying, forever fussing over me and inviting me over to forget about everything. When I tell them I’m fine, they don’t believe me and give me a mountain of work to keep my mind busy. Long hours in the office help ease my troubled mind until the night sets in, and I’m all alone again.
Charlie’s
exactly the same, forcing me on numerous outings and adventures with the girls to clear my head. Lex never says much aside from understanding how I feel having been through a separation from Charlie for several years. He warns Charlie to take it easy on me and to stop treating me like a broken baby bird.
I can’t agree more.
Late Friday afternoon, I decide I need to get away, and the only place I want to go is home, back to my old roots. I miss Mom a lot, and the second I walk into her house on Saturday morning after a tedious flight, she knows I’m ready to talk.
