The doctor gets pissed that I haven’t written anything down, judging me because I look so young, but then I repeat all his instructions back, using his own pompous words like a class act. The doctor nods, and opens the door to the examination room for us, letting us out. I pick up Matty from the bench, and kiss him on the cheek, hoping to take away some of his pain.
Stepping out into the emergency lobby, my anger has abated, but not completely subsided. Oh, it’s there, waiting for a little blast of wind to ignite it to full-flame. I can’t believe Hunter would say such a thing. Or act like that. Or not be here, no matter what I said.
I meant what I said before, that I would find a way to adopt Matty. He means that much to me, and if Hunter doesn’t want him, or can’t take care of him properly, then like Katniss Everdeen, I fucking volunteer. The pain and hurt and what happened before doesn’t cross my mind. It does, of course, but it’s like I’m watching it through a glass pane, it’s far away and can’t really bother me.
I’m fine with it until I step outside and see Hunter unfold himself out of somebody’s car, stalking towards me like a beautiful god who fell to earth just to haunt me. When the driver’s side door opens, I want to scream and yell at him for making me believe him.
Aly’s standing there, a triumphant smile on her face.
I feel like I’ve been shot, like I should be stumbling over my feet, falling to my knees at the pain of seeing them both together. Again. Even after he told me they were done, over and over. Even after he told me that I’m the only one he said he wanted.
Fucking liar!
I keep walking, pretending I’m staring through Hunter, pretending like my heart isn’t hurting or that I’m so bloody tired that I just want to collapse in a heap on the floor, close my eyes and sleep for a year.
Hunter MacLaine is very hard to look through. Parts of him just grab my attention, his very presence demands it. He thinks he’s less, diminished when in my eyes he only shines more brightly.
“Daddy!” Matty hollers in my ear, and it feels like a betrayal. Bloody hell, his Dad couldn’t be bothered to have him checked out, but the little snot doesn’t really care about that.
Matty twists his body in my arms, throwing my balance out of whack enough that I have to stomp forward a few steps so my back doesn’t go out. Arms outstretched for Hunter’s chest, I move as close as I dare until Hunter can actually grab a hold of him. Letting go of my cargo, I do the only thing that makes sense to me at that point in time. I fish for his keys in my purse, snagging them after only a few seconds, thank God. It would totally suck that I would want to make a dramatic exit and it gets delayed by the sorry organizational state of my purse.
I can’t touch Hunter, not now, especially not now. I’m so mad, stupid tears are coming to my eyes and my dumb nose is starting to sting. I hate that, I hate that whenever I get too worked up emotionally, my body takes it as a signal to start leaking from my eyeballs. Seriously undermines my street cred of being a total badass.
I make sure Matty’s looking at me while babbling to his Dad about his hospital adventure, having totally forgotten what Hunter yelled about a few hours before. I’d be like that too, though, willing to forget all the painful words, the hurtful accusations if my Dad would hold me like he cared about me. It’s like Matty knows actions speak louder than words, and he’s using that factoid for all his worth.
I hand the keys to the little man, making sure I don’t touch one inch of Hunter’s shoulder. I don’t know what Aly is doing, not that I give a fuck. I hope they’ll be fucking happy together. I hope they drown in happinessand all that fucking money he’s going to get when his mom dies. Bastards, the whole lot of them.
I paste a smile on my face, but it doesn’t seem to fit, and keeps slipping off like a mask that refuses to stay put. I wave with a jerky movement of my wrist, and start walking away. I have to tell myself to keep walking when Matty starts screaming my name, or when Hunter tries to calm him down. I pretend he’s actually calming his kid down enough so he can yell out for me himself, to tell me to stop, to turn around, to run up to me and explain why he was hanging out with the slut instead of being with me and his son at the hospital.
He does none of these things, but I can’t help how my back tingles, or how my shoulders hunch up, like they’re getting ready for the sound of his boots hitting the pavement to catch up to me. All I hear is Aly’s laugh, high and full of mirth. Loud enough to alert everyone within a five mile radius that she got her way. That she won.
That Hunter chose her over me.
I blow out a quick breath, shoving hair behind my ears, then looking into my purse while I walk through the dusk-lit parking lot for my phone, until I realize again I don’t actually have it on me. Doesn’t matter, I can make the walk in forty minutes. Better walk fast.
Walking home from the hospital gives me time to think, no matter how hard I try to concentrate on my footsteps to distract me. Nothing can distract me now from what I just saw, from my thoughts filled with doubt.
What did I ever see in Hunter MacLaine? I’m alone with my thoughts as I make the walk home, still half-hoping he’s going to pull up beside me in his car and offer to drive me home. I shake my head, making the fantasy dissipate like smoke and force myself to look at the harsh reality of it all.
I’m all alone on a darkened street, sneakers pattering on the pavement, the orange glow of streetlights makes it look like the sidewalk is sinister where shadows hold dangerous individuals with hockey masks or chainsaws. I mean they could, and I end up picking up my pace, swallowing past the pain in my throat, refusing to cry or think too much on the hurt until I’m safe in my bed.
I’m good at that – delaying the pain enough that I can function and let myself cry until hours later.
God, but he made me love him. I know I can’t be, statistically speaking, the only female on the planet that this has ever happened to. But Jesus, I was so careful. I knew, I knew this was going to happen. I got too attached, with the first fucking man who ever showed me a little bit of attention. I’m pathetic, and so, so ashamed.
I run the rest of the way to my apartment. I take the stairs to my place, broken sounds escaping my mouth even while I cover it with both hands as I run up flight after flight. I won’t be able to hold it in, the pain, the ache in my chest, the humiliation.
My eyes squeeze shut as I get to my door, and the tears fall. I take hoarse breaths, like I’m starving for air, and that pain in my chest, that emptiness, that awful tearing there is awful enough that I never ever want to feel it again.
The invisible wound in my chest widens to hold a Matty-shape in it, because I’ve lost him, too. I’ve lost the only two people that other than my friends, made me feel like I belonged. God, God, God why did I let them mean so much to me, when I knew this was going to happen?
I swallow my misery, and once in my apartment, I lock the door and decide to take a hot shower. I let myself crumple to the ground in the shower, and wish with all my might that I could erase all the wonderful times we had together, all the sweet things he said to me – even if they were lies and I let myself believe him.
God, he absolutely had to have known how little experience I had, and how easy it would be to play me. Well, I did my part and now I’m done. I’m done with Hunter MacLaine, and his son.
I have to say it over and over when I’m done my shower to make myself believe it. I have to say it with such conviction right before I go to sleep so I don’t dream about him. So I don’t dream or think of what could have been, what should have been if I was different, if I was better, prettier, skinnier. If I looked more like Katie, if I was smarter, if I had a better job.
It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll torture myself with the memories tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, until the pain goes away.
***
I’m one of those girls, so completely heart-broken that whenever I try to eat something, it tastes like cardboard so I just don’t bother anymore
. I can’t sleep, and when I do, my asshole brain plays all kinds of scenarios, mainly pointing out blatantly what I did wrong.
I know this is wrong behavior to be having. There are always two sides to every single story, and I’m using me as the star of the show. Hunter’s to blame, too. I fraking know this. Still, a part of me wants to go and grovel, and beg, and do all those awful things that my pride says hell, no to.
I find excuses to stay away from the building ‘cause one of these days I’m going to forget that Aly’s probably over at his place, and they’re playing house, and Matty’s there, too and who’s taking care of him while they fuck each other’s brains out? Assholes!
When I’m in my apartment, I punish myself with my spinning bike, pushing myself to spin for sometimes two hours at a time. The minor endorphin high is what keeps me going. And I have the engagement party to go to in two weeks, and they’re all going to know that I fell for it, I fell for the sweet words and his beautiful face, and I fell hard.
What the fuck was I thinking? That I’d get a Happily Ever After? I did, Jesus, I so did.
“Broski!” Katie calls out from my living room as I’m sulking in my bedroom. With as few syllables as possible, I texted Katie why I refused to socialize and wanted to be alone. Her answer was to show up to my place, probably using some flirtation technique I’ve only ever read about to get the lobby door open and into the elevator.
“I have chocolate brownies, and triple chocolate fudge ice cream, and vanilla cupcakes from that bakery you love!” She yells into my silent apartment. Sounds like there’s five people in here instead of two.
I keep looking out the window, replaying all my answers, what I could have said, what I should have said to have kept him still interested in me. I was just an easy mark and the shame of that burns me like a physical wound. Today marks one week since I brought Matty to the hospital and everything fell apart and Hunter cheated on me when he told me he was done with her. Lying bastard.
Poor Matty probably thinks I abandoned him or something. Just like his non-existent mother. And I left him especially after Hunter blew a gasket on his fury-meter. I’m tired of feeling like this. Without work to keep me pre-occupied, this is what I do – I think. I think and think and make myself feel so low, I don’t know how I’ll ever be healed again.
“The bestie is here!” Katie’s voice echoes in my room, but I still keep looking out the window. “Get your fine ass out of that bed, and we’re going to OD on chocolate tonight. And wine. Don’t forget the wine!”
I may have grunted an affirmative.
“Jesus, you look like utter shit. When was the last time you ate?”
I don’t answer, but watch her as she comes into my view, and makes her way in front of the window. Now, I’m looking at her abs and boobs. I don’t have the energy to twist my neck up so we can meet eye-to-eye.
“Sweetie, how can we fix it if your refuse to talk?”
I grunt again, in agreement with her statement.
“Alright then, I see how this is going to go. Move over, I’m coming in.” And she uses her body to scooch me over on my bed, and moves me out of my warm spot, and into a cold one. “How long have you been lying down? Eight days? Oh, but this is so cozy. Come to think of it, I could seriously use a nap, too, if you don’t mind.”
“I mind,” I growl, hauling on the sheets and blankets when Katie hogs them.
“She speaks!” Katie raises her arms up at the ceiling, like ‘look! I did it!’
We’re quiet for a time, my emotional numbness starting to slowly thaw away now that I’m going to have to tell her what happened. I can’t stay immune, even though I need to. I don’t want to tell her what I did, that I fell in love, that I was stupid enough to do so.
“You gonna tell me what happened or am I going to have to guess?” I stay quiet. Katie grunts, and I watch her press a finger to her lips, tapping a rhythm out. “You got a horrible, and I mean horrible case of PMS?” She turns to look at me, and I keep doing my trick of staring through her.
“Okay, that’s definitely not it. Was Guardians of the Galaxy not what you were hoping for? There’s no need to go catatonic over a movie.” I ignore that, too.
“You found out that the actor who plays Jax Teller is gay? Oh my God, Dean Winchester is gay! Tom Hiddleston!?”
“You don’t even know who you’re talking about,” I say. My voice sounds dead even to my ears.
“Fuck yeah, I know who they are. Jax Teller, the blonde hottie in Sons of Anarchy. The one you’ve been obsessed with since 2008. Let me tell you, I would not mind if I rode on the back of his bike.” She holds up another finger, ticking them off, one by one.“Dean Winchester, the shorter hottie on Supernatural, where all evil things go bump in the night and want to kill the brothers. They die a lot.”
I almost snort. Almost.
“And of course, that British gentleman that played Loki, the god of mischief, and a sexy pain in the ass in the Avengers. I know who you perv on, Delos, and I approve for the most part. So? Which one is gay? Not like you ever had a chance, these sexy mofos in Hollywood, or er, London or whatever, go after their own kind – models and shit. And you baby, are only five-four.”
“No one’s gay.” I almost want to laugh.
“Then what the fuck happened? Are you pregnant? Holy shit, are you?” She bounces onto her side, jostling me in the bed. Eyes big in her face, I’m not sure I can tell her. I end up shrugging a shoulder, a tiny movement, while I let my eyes droop shut.
“Don’t ruin your Friday because of me. Go hang out with your work buddies, or the boys. I’ll be okay.”
I won’t be okay, I won’t be okay. Stay here with me, and see that I’m not okay. Fix me, make me feel better.
“Ruin my Friday? I’m a single bitch, I get to do whatever the fuck I want. I don’t have to say anything to anybody and it’s awesome. Hey, where’s the Sex God?”
I clear my throat, keeping my eyes closed all the while. Here it is, here it comes.
“We... We broke up.”
“Yeah? What happened?” Cautious, she’s cautious now. Her voice is smooth and delicate like she’s trying to talk down a potential jumper. You’ve got something to live for...
“He wanted somebody else, that’s all.”
I can hear her frowning, it changes the bubble of silence in my bed. “That doesn’t make sense. Start from the beginning. I can’t make an accurate analysis if I don’t have all the specifics. One, two, three, go.”
I sigh good and long, telling her without words that I don’t want to talk about this.
“C’mon, you know you wanna tell me everything.” She play-punches me on the shoulder. “Or I could always knock on his door and ask him what he thinks happened.”
My heart races, making me warm. I’d rather go back to numb. “Go ahead. He’ll tell you what I just told you.”
“Still doesn’t make sense, Sera. You were happy, you told me so in daily texts.”
“I misread everything.”
“Impossible. You’re the smartest person I know,” she says this like smarts are what got me into this. My brain took a bloody vacation and my dumb heart took over. I clearly wasn’t thinking straight when I fell in love with Hunter.
“You don’t know a lot of people, then.”
She sits up abruptly, taking the blankets with her. I claw at them, dragging them up to my chin and resume looking through her.
“Stop this! Stop being so pathetic!” Tough love - I hate it. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself and tell me what happened.” Katie snarls, pulling on the covers again.
“What does it matter?” My voice is so dead-sounding, you don’t even hear the last bit being a question. “It’s over. I’m looking for new places to move into.”
“What about Matty? What about him?”
“What about him?” Shit, I’m not so numb anymore. “He’s Hunter’s, okay? He’s not mine, never was. Hunter made his choice. He doesn’t want me.”
“Jus
t tell me what happened.”
“We’ve been fighting a lot lately. Shit escalated. It’s over. He wants the chick he was banging before he met me. I left him to it.”
“You caught them together?”
I snort. Shit. “Not with the canoe in the pink taco as such, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Canoe... in the pink taco? Oh my God, that’s like, a Tommy-worthy innuendo. Five points to Gryffindor!”
I can’t help the little leap of excitement that’s centered in my belly. “You’ve read Harry Potter?”
She holds her hands out, palms facing me, like whoa, horsey. “Look at that, one mention of our favourite boy wizard and she’s back from the dead.” Katie smiles a bright one with teeth at me. “I’ve only read the first three. The fourth is HUGE. I don’t know when I’ll ever be done. And you know what? They keep getting better.”
“True that.”
Katie frowns, voice soft. “Can you please tell me what happened?”
I’m not going to win this; when Katie wants something it’s best to give it to her ‘cause she can whine. “Not before I eat four brownies and a bowl of ice cream.”
Katie grins, rolls over and tumbles out of my bed, landing on all fours. I don’t even ask if she’s okay. I just laugh and laugh and laugh. Funny thing is, I don’t know if she did that on purpose or not.
When I’m done downing sugar in all its glorious forms, I tell her everything. Every little detail that I can remember. She makes the appropriate noises. Growls when Hunter says something stupid or yelled at me, big aaaaawwws when Matty says something cute, and excited gasps when Hunt said sweet things about wanting me.
But she scream-squeaks when I tell her that I fell in love. And then bursts into tears right along with me as I say those words out loud, words I never got to tell him.
Katie then vows that she’ll hunt down Alysha and make sure she pays for messing with my man.