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I looked down at the floor. “Yes,” I said. “I will stay on as Will’s nanny. But you and I—this—it’s over.”
* * *
When I crawled into my own bed that night, I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down my face. I was heartbroken. There was no other way to describe it. I had let myself get so wrapped up in the idea of starting a whirlwind romance with Matt, that I could barely even hold it together now that the harsh reality had set in. Not only did he not want to be with me, but he never had wanted to be with me. Not in any way that was real. He was so eager to get me out of his bedroom so he could go take another girl out for drinks! Who does that?
A jerk. That’s who. I decided right then and there that Matt was a jerk, and I was blind not to see it sooner. He was a sweet-talker, and he knew just what to say to get a girl to trust him, but at the end of the day, he was no different from any other wealthy player in the city. He wanted one thing, and one thing only, and I was an idiot for thinking he’d ever see me as anything more than a good time.
Finally, half an hour into my pity party, I managed to get a hold of myself. I whipped some of my tears from my cheeks and called the only person in my friend group who I knew would make me feel instantly better.
Michelle.
She picked up after five rings, and she sounded like she was actually someplace quiet, which surprised me considering it was a Friday night.
“Hey Steph!” she said. “I didn’t expect to see your name pop up on my phone. How’s it going?”
“Oh you know,” I said. “It’s been better. Where are you? It’s so quiet.”
“I know,” she said. “I’m actually having a night in. Can you believe it?”
I chuckled. “Not at all.”
“Well, it’s true. Sometimes even ya’ girl has to have some time to herself. Anyway, what’s going on? You sound sad.”
“I am a little sad. And I don’t really feel like going into details, which is why I called you, because I knew you wouldn’t make me talk about something that I didn’t want to talk about. So can I just give you the basic facts and you just tell me everything is going to be okay?”
“You got it babe.”
“Thanks. Here it goes.” I squared my shoulders. “So–I put myself out there with a guy, he stomped all over my heart, and now I’m feeling bad about myself and I don’t know how to get out of this self-deprecating spiral.”
“You came to the right place. Here’s exactly how you get out of it. Now, follow my instructions exactly, you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, go look in the mirror.”
“No, Michelle, I look like shit. I’ve been crying—”
“Ah ah! I don’t want to hear it. Get up and go look in the mirror.”
I groaned but I did as she said. I turned the bedside lamp on and stood in front of the mirror on the other side of my closet door. “Okay. I’m in front of the mirror.”
“Good,” she said. “Now you look yourself in the eye and you repeat after me: That man is not worth my tears.”
“That man is not worth my tears.”
“That man, andanyman, would be lucky to have me.”
“That man, andanyman, would be lucky to have me.”
“But while I’m waiting around for the right one to come along, I will never forget…”
“While I’m waiting around for the right one to come along, I will never forget…”
“That I’m a bad bitch who don’t need male validation.”
“Michelle.”
“Say it.”
