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GUILT
It’s Saturday evening, and I’m struggling.
If Cain and I were still together, we would have spent today at the park—me with my head in my laptop while he held my body and watched me write.
It’s been just over three weeks to the day since I broke up with Cain, and after I went to his apartment and saw Rodberg, I’ve been feeling guiltier and guiltier about my decision.
I have moments of wondering whether I should hear Cain out. I can’t for the life of me figure out why he doesn’t want people at his work to know about me other than he’s ashamed. So when I think about hearing him out, the thought of him being ashamed of me sets me back on my path of abstention. Even though he’s still trying to see me every chance he can—he hasn’t given up on me just yet—I’m still in struggle town, and my guilt is eating me up.
Even though I’ve been ignoring him solidly for twenty-one days, the fact that he's still trying says more about me than it does about him. I know he cares, but my mind is one big fucking mess.
I’ve lost weight. I am eating now, though nothing like I should be, and I’m barely leaving the apartment out of fear of running into Cain. Joey’s doing everything for me, and it’s obvious she’s growing tired of my attitude toward life. She’s understanding and supportive, but she wants me back—the pre-Cain best friend.
My bedroom door flies open, and I glance up from under my bed sheets, looking toward the door. Joey’s dressed up to the nines as she holds a bottle of wine and two glasses. She looks stunning in her short black sequined dress as she walks in, strutting her stuff with a bright smile.
“You look nice,” I tell her.
Joey sits on the edge of the bed, places the two glasses on my nightstand, opens the bottle, and pours the wine. “Yes, I look fucking fabulous. Now sit up, have a drink, but drink it slowly, then get dressed because we, my sappy little sad sack of shit, are going out.” She lifts a glass and hands it to me as I sit up.
Tilting my head, I scrunch my face. “Ahh… no. You go have fun. I’ll stay here.”
She shakes her head and picks up the other glass, taking a sip of the pink wine. Then she lets out a long breath. “Look, babe, I love you. I’d do absolutely anything for you. I’ve let you wallow basically in your own filth for three weeks, but… enough is enough. You need to get out and unwind. You’ve been moping around for far too long over a guy yousupposedlydon’t want. So if that’s the case, let’s get out there and dance, have a couple of drinks, and forget the worries of this apartment for a night. I mean… what’s the worst that could happen?” She clinks her glass to mine, and I huff.
“Fine, but I go begrudgingly.” Bringing the wine to my lips, I take a small sip. The fruity flavor dances on my tongue instantly, causing me to feel dizzy. I make my mind up there and then not to drink too much tonight, knowing my body won’t handle it. Plus, after knowing what Cain has gone through because of alcohol, I don’t have the same affiliation with it anymore.
“I don’t care if I have to drag you by your tatty hair… you’re going. Now get up, put on a sexy dress, and please, for God’s sake, brush that mop,” she scolds and stands, walking over to my closet and stepping in to find me a dress.
Weakly smiling, my muscles clench.
I’m not looking forward to this, not one little bit.
But it’s time.
I need to get back to life.
I can’t stay cooped up in this apartment for the rest of my existence.
I have to get back to reality.
Maybe a night out with my best friend is what I need to get me back into the swing of things.
CHAPTER EIGHT
MAKAYLIE
Our Uber pulls up in front of a club I’ve never been to before, but Joey has always wanted to come here. It’s in a back alley, and the streetlights are dimly lit, but the music is pumping so loud the bass vibration pulses through me, even out on the street.
For extra warmth from the chill of the night air, I wrap my long trench coat around me as my nude pumps click on the concrete while we walk toward the beat of the music and the door of the club. I’m not feeling one hundred percent, but Joey made me eat before we came out, so at least I have a full stomach.
Joey struts her stuff like she’s a freaking supermodel, dressed in her long fur coat and black pumps. Her hair is down and curled, her lips plump and bright red. Her curves sway from side to side as she walks with purpose, but I struggle to keep up with her while rushing alongside her nervously.
I always feel like an imposter next to Joey because her beauty comes effortlessly, whereas even with Joey doing my makeup and hair, I still feel like a homeless girl in comparison.
“Joey, what are we—” I ask, but she heads straight for the security guard at the front of the line and smiles massively, stepping in front of the people in the queue.
“Hey, gorgeous… wow! I didn’t know anyone could have musclesthisbig.” She reaches out, squeezing the security guard’s bicep. He looks down at her hand, then at her with a wide grin. I chew on my bottom lip, watching and waiting.
He beams at her. “I work out pretty hard.” He grunts, and she fake laughs.
