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“I’m not worried about it.” Because there’s no chance of flying to Puerta Vallarta with Kyle after the party. Not anymore. No trip, no days spent on the beach. No getting engaged there, the way I’ve imagined doing a hundred times since he started dropping hints about rings a few months ago. When he suggested we take this vacation to celebrate my graduation, I was sure he had something up his sleeve. How could I have been so blind?
“Sweetie?”
“Hmm?” She’s been talking and I haven’t heard a word of it. “Sorry. I had a late night and you caught me before my coffee.”
“I said, I have a few phone calls to make. Everything okay with you, though? You don’t sound quite like yourself.”
Probably because I watched the man I thought I’d be engaged to by this time two weeks from now cheat on me.I don’t want to kill the woman, so I won’t drop that sort of shocker on her. It’s going to upset her—she loved Kyle and already thought of him as a son-in-law. He betrayed both of us.
“I’m tired. I think now that the adrenaline rush has passed and I’m on the other side of the mountain, exhaustion is setting in.” Boy, I can cook up a quick lie when I have to. I can even sound convincing.
“Well, that’s more than understandable. Get your rest—you’ll be plenty busy once you start working. And possibly making big plans,” she adds in a knowing sing-song sort of voice.
There go the tears again. I close my eyes tight and wish I’d never told her about Kyle’s hints at a proposal. The impulse to blurt the whole thing out is almost too much to fight, but somehow I manage.
“I’ll get my rest. Don’t worry too much about the party, either. It’ll be great, and I’m so grateful for it.” At least that part, I mean. I’m lucky to have such a supportive family. And as the shock of the breakup starts working its way through me, I’ll need them.
For now, I need to figure things out. Where to go from here. Should I move, make a new start? I suppose that depends on the result of my interviews. Maybe I should expand my radius. Or maybe I shouldn’t make any big decisions at a time like this. I learned that in high school when I gave myself bangs after a break-up. Not a wise decision.
Instead of getting out of bed once the call’s over, I flop down and burrow under my comforter. The world can wait for a little while. I have more crying to do.
4
HARLOW
“You need this. Don’t act like you couldn’t use a night out.”
I can only frown at Ruby in my bedroom mirror where she stands behind me with her hands on her hips. “You know I’m right.”
“I’m not in a great mood. I’m too… pissed off.” Because now that the sadness and betrayal have passed over the last few days, I’ve moved into anger. Rage even. How dare he? I gave him everything. I was nothing but good to him. I would never have done to him what he did to me.
“Which is why you should go out, have a few drinks, and dance it off. You’ll feel tons better.” I know what she’s thinking when she winks. “And who knows? You might find somebody who’ll make you forget all about what’s-his-name.”
I wish it were that easy. I really do.
Running my hands down the length of the short, black dress Ruby picked out, I can’t help but frown at my reflection. Is she right? Sitting around for days and marinating in my feelings sure hasn’t helped anything. “So long as you don’t expect me to hook up with some random guy just to make a point.”
“You know I would never expect that. Not from you. Little Miss Good Girl.”
“You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”
For once, she drops the humor and steps up behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist to give me a squeeze. “You do whatever feels right for you. You know I would never judge, either way. But you should at least try, for your own sake, to get out and have a good time. You owe that to yourself.”
I can't argue with that.
Which is why we end up at exactly the sort of club I would normally pass up the opportunity to visit; chock full of people, bodies pressed together, everybody shouting into each other's ears to be heard. Though tonight, I sort of like it. I can forget who I am here, blend into the crowd, dance like nobody's watching, or something like that.
And that's what we do, Ruby and me. There's no attempt at attracting anybody, no flirting, and the few times guys have tried to dance up on us we've both politely declined. It's a girl's night.
And there is something to be said for getting sweaty, which I definitely am after a couple of hours of dancing wildly between trips to the bar for drinks. But it's good exercise—the last thing I felt like doing lately is moving. I was too busy being miserable, but this is exactly what I needed. A few martinis don't hurt, either.
For once, I don't care what anybody thinks. So what if I'm not even the best dancer in the world? “You look great!” Ruby insists, squealing when I turn in a circle with my arms over my head. “I should get you to come dancing more often!”
“I have the time now!” I remind her, and not only because of Kyle either. So much of my time has been taken up by my thesis, my internship, all of that. I finally have control of my time again, with the added bonus of not having a boyfriend demanding my every free moment.
For the first time in years I'm free. I can do whatever I want, go wherever I want. I haven't heard back from any of the organizations I interviewed with yet, but that's bound to happen any day. As much as I would love to work with them, I don't exactly mind the feeling of having the whole world laid out in front of me. Maybe all I needed was dropping roughly a hundred-seventy-five pounds of dead weight in the form of a boyfriend who I'm better off without. Who knows?
“I'm beat!” Ruby waves her hands once the latest bass-heavy song ends. “And I don't know why I wore these shoes!” She hobbles off toward the bar, elbowing her way through the crowd to find a free stool which she works her way onto with a grimace.
