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Her words comforted me, but I wasn't sure I believed her. Was Aaron an idiot for not returning his best friend's feelings? Or was he just like every other guy who wasn't interested in me?
I didn't want to hate or blame Aaron, but tonight, he broke my heart without even knowing it. I wasn't going to let that happen twice.
My dreams of Aaron and I running off into the sunset were over, and I would have to accept that.
"Will you take me home now?" I asked Amanda as we separated. "If you haven't had too much to drink."
"I only had a few sips of my beer before I saw you run off, so I'm good," Amanda said, shooting me a thumbs up.
I laughed at her antics, and we walked to her car, arm in arm. I gave the party one last glance and saw the light on in one of the upstairs rooms.
My heart contracted at the thought that Aaron might be up there with Claudia, but I shook my head.
The chapter about Aaron and me being more than best friends was closed before it had been written. We were just friends, and I had to accept that.
Chapter Two
Erica
Mycondofeltemptynow that my roommate, Charlene, had moved out last week. We had been sharing this space for the past two years, and while it felt lonely, I was looking forward to renovating the rooms into what I wanted.
Our condo was made of brown brick and stood two stories high. I lived on the bottom half, and Charlene lived on top. Having no one above me would be weird, but it meant I had the space to myself, and I had always wanted a music studio to pursue my passion for being a musician.
I was covered in what seemed to be gallons of paint since I was painting.
Painting my front door red was something that I had always wanted to do, but Charlene thought a plain wooden door was classier. So, that was one pro of her leaving.
The paint was easy to apply, and I had already done one layer. I took a step back to admire my work before deciding whether to start another coat.
I was about to start painting coat number two when I heard a car pull up my driveway.
I glanced up and recognized the silver SUV.
It was my mother.
My heart sank at the sight.
I loved my mother, I really did, but she had a habit of trying to set me up constantly. My parents have traveled a lot since I moved out, and I didn't see them often. But, when I did see them, they constantly had a new guy in mind for me to try and date.
I had been single for a while but was content that way. While I would love to be in a loving relationship, I wanted it to happen organically and with someone I was interested in. Not with some uppity rich guy my parents knew through their friends at the country club. That wasn't my scene anymore.
With a sigh, I put the paintbrush down and wiped my hands against my overalls.
My mom got out of the car and looked different from the last time I saw her. Her medium-length brown hair was now cut into a short brown bob, and her skin was tanner. She must have just returned from another one of her many Caribbean vacations.
"Hi, Mom," I called out as she approached me.
"Honey, you look a mess," my mother said as she looked me up and down.
Glancing at myself, I saw I had red paint all over my overalls, but that's to be expected when painting.
"Mom, as you can see, I've been doing manual labor. Of course, I'm going to look a little messy," I said, refraining from rolling my eyes.
"You really should hire someone to do this work. Young ladies aren't meant to paint out in the heat."
This time, I rolled my eyes.
My mom saw the world in a certain way. She was prim and proper and thought women belonged inside, doing feminine things. I loved my mother, but she lived in the Victorian age.
