Me: Going to bed. Call me tomorrow.
I look at the phone to see if the white bubble comes up with the three dots, but it doesn’t. Placing it back on the side table, I turn and close my eyes.
My dreams are all of Ethan—his smile, his touch, his laughter, his hugs, and his kisses. And when I finally wake up, tears have soaked my pillow. Turning over, I see it’s almost six, so I get up, slip on my robe, and walk to the kitchen. I start my coffee, and when my cup is full, I open the back door just in time to see him walking away from my house. I stop in my tracks. Did he stay here all night? He must sense me because he turns around and spots me standing here. “I didn’t mean to stay,” he says from beside the hammock. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I must have dozed off.” He looks down and then up. “I’m sorry,” he says and walks away from me. As I watch him walk away from me, I press my hand on my chest over my heart. I sit down on the stoop and watch him walk away as the sun comes up.
I try to keep myself busy and my mind off Ethan. After I clean the house, I make a list and head to the grocery store. I’m unloading the car when I see Jenna pull up. “Aren’t you lucky?” I say. “Just in time to help me unload the car.”
“Oh, goodie.” She smiles at me and helps me unload my car. “How much shit did you buy?”
“This is what happens when you go shopping and you’re starving,” I say, putting five of the bags on the counter. “This right here.”
She laughs and helps me put away the stuff. “He came here last night,” I say when she sits on the stool at the counter drinking tea. I avoid her eyes as I cut up the fresh strawberries. “Then this morning, I went out to watch the sunrise, and he was still here.” She gasps. “I just want to be able to see him and not care.”
“That is never going to happen,” she tells me, grabbing a strawberry, and I look at her shocked. “What?” She shrugs. “You think that you won’t ever be thinking what-if every single time you see him?” I don’t answer her. “Every single time you see him, what-if is going to fly into your head. No matter how much you say you love Drew.”
“I thought after I laid out my heart to him and told him how much he hurt me that I would be okay with it,” I say, tossing a strawberry in my mouth, and she just looks at me. “Okay, fine, I’ll have the what-ifs, but it won’t change anything.”
“Step one is admitting it.” She laughs. “I want to go to the bar tonight.”
“No,” I say right away. “No fucking way. I had the shittiest week of my life.”
“Exactly.” She points at me. “Let’s get dressed up and go dancing. God, we haven’t done that in a while.”
“We did that last month,” I remind her. “Brett had to carry you out over his shoulder.” I point at her, and she shrugs.
“We need to go out. You need to get your mind off him, and nothing will do that like tequila and some line dancing.” She puts her hands in the air and dances. She takes her phone out of her pocket and calls Brett, who answers after one ring, “Hey, baby,” she says softly, and he groans.
“Nothing good comes when you start a conversation that way,” he says. “Hurry up, I’m up next.”
“We are going to go dancing tonight, so dust off the cowboy boots,” she tells him.
“Fuck, Jenna, I thought we were doing Netflix and chill. More chill than Netflix,” he says, and she smiles.
“After all that tequila, we can chill all night long,” Jenna tells him.
“You guys are gross.” I fake vomit and turn to walk out of the room to give them privacy. I sit on my bed and try to call Drew. I don’t expect him to answer so when he does, I’m shocked and surprised.
“Hey,” I say, smiling when I hear his voice. “I didn’t think you would answer.”
“Hey,” he says, and he sounds like he’s running. “Sorry about last night.” His voice goes low. “I just went to bed early and turned off my phone,” he whispers. “I’m at the hotel gym. Can I call you later?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Sure. I just wanted to see what you were doing. Call me later.”
He hangs up, and I sit on the bed and look at the phone, not feeling right. Maybe I have guilt from seeing Ethan.
I close my eyes, and then I hear Jenna yelling. “I’m going to borrow your clothes.” Her voice comes closer to the bedroom, and I look at her. “If I go home, you are going to come up with some excuse not to go, and I’m not letting you.”
I don’t argue with her because I know that no matter what I say, she isn’t going to listen to me. Instead, we watch a couple of movies and pop a pizza in the oven. She takes a shower and slips into my blue jeans and a black cami. I, on the other hand, slip on my jean shorts that show off my long tan legs and grab the white off-the-shoulder cotton shirt. The sleeves are long and tight until the elbow and then flare out. The bottom of the shirt is loose and looks like lace. I slip on my high heel short cowboy boots, and when I walk out of the bathroom, Jenna’s mouth hangs open. “Oh. My god.”
“I wear
