Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 53417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
I ignore the sharp feeling of regret at that thought. After Kevin, I’ve learned my lesson. But I can’t help it if I loved having Graham in my kitchen. It felt forbidden but familiar at the same time, like something we both needed. Almost like the broken window didn’t matter at all.
I loved every second of it, but it can only be a moment of my life. And now it’s time for me to move on.
Pushing those thoughts from my head, I stand up and wave at Suzette, returning her smile with the biggest one I can. “Hi! How are you?”
With wide steps that cause her red-soled heels to click on the floor, she comes over and gives me a quick hug, smelling like the fresh air outside and her hairspray. “How are you? You look like you’re doing so much better!” Her jet-black hair with a blunt bob and bangs pairs perfectly with her sharply cut dress that hugs her curves. She looks expensive, mostly because everything she touches is expensive. Her hug is nothing but warmth and compassion. Just like always. I might have bad luck with men, but with my friend group, it’s always been wonderful. All of them are married and they don’t have quite as much time as they used to, but still, I’m grateful I have good friends in my life.
We take our seats at the table and the barista brings us our coffees as we make small talk. It’s easy and Suzette updates me on her new place and what Julia and Kat have been up to. Suzette sips her coffee with an appreciative grin. The café is bustling at this hour of the morning, and the sound of other people chatting does something great for my nerves. At the counter, a guy is flirting with the barista, and she’s flirting back. Maybe I should’ve spent more time meeting men in cafés instead of…well in dire circumstances.
But then I wouldn’t be where I am now. Granted, being jobless and late on rent isn’t great. I can’t argue with the other parts of my life having abundance, though, and I’m grateful for that.
“Have you find your dream job yet?” Suzette asks when a moment of quiet passes.
“Not exactly, but soon.” I hold up crossed fingers. “I’ve been applying for jobs like my life depends on it.”
I’m not kidding. I must’ve applied for forty jobs since Graham left my kitchen last week. I’ve written and rewritten my resume twice as many times, trying to frame my charity board experience in the best light possible. It’s really too bad I can’t figure out a way to fit in problem-solving by getting the hot rich man who owns my building to float me the rent, because that feels like a real achievement as well.
“Like your life depends on it,” Suzette shakes her head as she repeats what I’ve said, raising her eyebrows. “Doesn’t money always feel like that? I really think you should have called me sooner.”
I make a face at her. “I didn’t want to.” In truth, my friends are much better off in life than I am. But I’d never want to burden them. Even venting to Suzette felt wrong. I didn’t want her to take it the wrong way. A bottle of pinot will really open me up though.
“Why not?”
“Because I was such a mess before Kevin, and you had to...you know. You were there for all of that.”
“I was glad to be there for all of that,” she says firmly. “That’s what being friends is for. Being there for one another even when things get shitty.”
I can feel it, all over again, how heartbroken, confused, and angry I was. That was a breakup that seemed to last forever. I would wake up in the morning and swear I was over it, and by evening I’d be calling Suzette again to vent just so I could hold back tears.
I hadn’t wanted to tell her what happened with Kevin, too, because in some ways it felt like my failure.
I don’t think that anymore.
It doesn’t make it easier to let other people see me when I’m down...again.
So I’m not going to be down. Not about this, even if what was supposed to be a simple transaction is turning out to be more complicated than I thought, at least in the feelings department. I remind myself again that I can’t make assumptions about what Graham feels—I won’t make assumptions. That’ll get you into trouble faster than your fiancé can say I’m leaving.
“You’re right.” I take a drink of my hot coffee, savoring the warmth and the flavor. That’s a good reminder that no matter how hard things get, there are still parts of life that are wonderful. Like coffee with hazelnut flavoring. “But we’re here now.”
“Next time, just call me,” she insists in a serious voice, but cracks a smile. “Because I have good news.”