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“It’s still really new. And not public knowledge so if you could keep it between us that would be great,” I say with more of a whisper, desperate to keep this conversation between us.
“Is he some kind of celebrity or something?” He says with a laugh and the blonde joins in, though I doubt she has any idea why this is extra awkward for us.
“No, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just…on the down low, ya know?” I backpedal quickly.
“Order for BK,” the barista boasts over the coffee shop chatter, making sure everyone now knows who I am getting coffee for. Why did I put his name on it? Stupid stupid STUPID!
“BK, like that crazy photographer guy that makes girls cry?” The blonde perks up, butting herself in and causing a small gasp to escape Warren’s mouth.
Have you ever made choices you instantly know will change the trajectory of your entire life? This is one of those moments for me. I know what I say next will change everything and it won’t be something I can come back from. This is the moment it all goes to trash and I am the one sending it there.
“The one and only, but like I said, it’s not public so keep it to yourself, please,” I all but fall to my knees to beg properly.
“Right, ya of course,” Warren comes back alive. “At least you found someone who works as hard as you do, Carter. I hope you both find the time to slow down and enjoy each other.”
I need to get out of here and now. I turn to leave when Warren stops me. I can’t help but wonder what the blonde is thinking when he touches my arm to halt me. “Don’t forget his coffee,” he says, holding the cup out to me.
His voice almost sounds pained to know that the reason we broke up in the first place is the exact reason he thinks my fake boyfriend and I are such a good fit for each other. Warren never understood my drive and when we first got together our junior year of college, that determination wasn’t as intense yet.
Once I graduated I was driven, also spelled desperate, to find the place in the world to make the most impact. The place that would give me that feeling of making a difference while also fulfilling my ambition at the same time. It’s not an easy thing to find and most people never do.
I doubt that I ever will at this point. With the connection mystery blonde just made, it is only a matter of time before I am back out on my butt, unemployed and blacklisted.
All Warren wanted was for me to make him a priority like I did for my portfolio. Endless nights of editing, hours a day spent photographing or scoping locations to capture next. I was obsessed, I couldn’t slow down. When he told me I had to choose by getting down on one knee with a glittering chunk of carbon in his hand, all I could do was apologize and leave.
Yup, I left him literally down on one knee. I grabbed my purse and left, never looked back, didn’t say anything, and sure as heck didn’t think he would come after me.
But he chased for weeks, asking me to talk about things and find a way to make it work. I knew the guilt I would feel about him sitting at home with dinner on the table and an empty chair waiting. I couldn’t find a compromise that would justify a husband twiddling his thumbs.
Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. Warren didn’t cook much. He for sure wanted the full wife experience, though.
To come home from his desk job to a meal and a wife waiting to share all about her day.
A bump keeping her from pulling up close to the table that he would talk to while they lay on the couch watching HGTV.
Whispering how lucky he was to have her.
The air outside the coffee shop feels a million pounds lighter and I gasp it in like I have been underwater for years. I don’t cry, as a general rule, I’m not a crier. I hate my face getting all splotchy and the inevitable inability to regulate my breathing once I have stopped the tears. It’s like crying has a cooldown timer that no one knows about and we are forced to just ride out until our bodies decide it’s time to get back to normal.
I tell my eyes to keep the tears hidden away and I hustle to set, my blast from the past making me later than I want to be.
It’s not until I get to set that I realize I didn’t get a sleeve for his coffee and my hand is frozen. I knock on BK’s office door when I don’t see him over at the set. His “come in” can barely be heard through the door. I walk in, put his coffee on his desk, and turn to leave.
“Hey, you good?”
That is all he has to say before I feel my lip start to quiver. No, we cannot be crying in front of our boss right now. This is pathetic and I did not authorize this.
“Oh fuck, are you crying? Because I am definitely not the right person for this. I don’t…I have no clue how to like comfort people. There’s toilet paper in the bathroom but I don’t have tissues or anything so…”
His panic and clear discomfort with a crying female causes me to laugh. Laughing while you cry is another one of those weird phenomena. You feel like emotional garbage but can’t help but try and inject some joy into yourself.
“I’m fine, it’s fine. Somehow it’s already been the longest day ever, ya know?” I manage to choke out around both my sobs and laughter. If he didn’t think I was insane before, he knows I for sure am now.
“Ya, I know shit about chicks but I do know when they say they are fine it’s total bullshit. Spill it so I can feel like I helped or something.”
Here comes the word vomit, BK. Buckle up.
“I was getting your coffee this morning, like always, and of course, I saw my ex there with his gorgeous new blonde whatever she is and I tried to hide hoping he wouldn’t see me. I failed miserably and he had to say hi and see how I was doing. You know when someone asks how you are you can’t say ‘I’ve been a mess since we broke up thanks for asking.’ You are obligated to say that you are great, and better than ever so that they don’t feel bad for you.” I pause to breathe and BK opens his mouth like he is going to speak but I’m not done yet.
