It was agony not to text him.
I felt like if I could find the right words, I could make him understand I wasn’t wrong for him. That we were right for each other. Who looked ahead five years down the line? I went back and forth between disbelief and shock and a mind-numbing sense of loss all the long hours of the day.
I got immediately into pajamas when I got home. Already on the grief diet, I had Cheerios for supper. I had to text him, to appeal to him. Maybe he would say he’d given it some thought and regretted his words. He’d had a lousy day at the shop. He hadn’t been thinking clearly.
He must have realized by now that he loved me too.
I held out until 8 p.m. when I knew Hudson would be leaving the shop to go home.
“I miss you,” I texted.
Disgusted with myself, I picked Penny up and carried her to the tub, washing her with my hydrating shampoo and thinking about the bathroom at Hudson’s that he’d said was mine. Who does that?
I’d turned up the volume on my cell, and when it beeped with an incoming message, I let go of Pen to grab my phone. She immediately jumped from the tub and ran into my bedroom to dry herself on my comforter.
It was an email from Groupon for a night’s stay in Vermont, with a fruit basket and complimentary red wine.
“Do you miss me?” I hit send before I had the good sense to delete my text.
Hudson’s reply came back a few minutes later. “Most of what I’m feeling is relief.”
I was stunned, then I was furious. No, I was beyond furious. But this time, I wouldn’t let myself sink to the floor. At that moment, I knew we weren’t ever meant to be together, because he was a complete dick. A limp one, at that.
Penny came to my side and nudged my leg. She was a ball of static fluff, with shampoo suds still on her nose.
“Come on, let’s get you rinsed off,” I said. “And if you have any advice for getting over an asshole guy, please share it.”
67
“Maybe don’t fall in love so fast,” Maddy said. “That tends to freak guys out.”
“I was so happy,” I wailed. “Now I feel so foolish. I’m mad at myself. I’m mad at him. I’m just plain mad!”
“I know. It’s OK.”
She stood up and opened the pantry door. “What do you have to eat in here? What are these?” she asked, pulling out my package of Fig Newtons. “Something new?”
“I had a craving,” I said miserably. “In fact, hand them over.”
We ate in silence for a minute.
“It’s not OK! He was supposed to be The One! I thought he was The One! I thought I was his One!”
“You said you didn’t believe in The One,” Madd said calmly. “But it wasn’t him. I thought he was kind of fake.”
“You met him only once!” I wailed some more, leaning down to scoop up Penny for sympathy.
“Well, first impressions count.”
“I had to sit there at work, where we had sex at my desk, knowing he doesn’t care anymore, he just cut me off—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Madison held up her hand. “You had sex at work? When was this?”
“I don’t know, a few weeks ago,” I said, avoiding eye contact.
“Ohhh, bad idea right there. Isn’t the police station, like, right across the street?”
“I don’t care,” I said. “I don’t care about anything but getting him back.”
“Why would you want him, anyway? He said he felt relieved it was over! Dickwad.”
I had to agree; he was a dick. But I remembered the weekend at his house, when everything had seemed so great. Perfect, even. Had I been seeing just what I wanted to see? Was he pretending to be someone he wasn’t? I had no answers. I did, however, have a headache.
“What’s your plan now? You always have a plan,” Maddy said.
“I have no plan,” I said, trying not to sound completely self-pitying.
“Amazon shopping spree?”
“Maybe,” I said, my mood lightening for an instant.
“Going back on Fish?”
“Yeah, ’cause that’s worked well for me so far,” I said morosely.
I drank deeply from my glass of room-temp tap water, remembering how Hudson always gave me bottled water in a fancy glass, with a fresh slice of lemon. I’d taken my Fish profile down after the first date with Hudson, and he’d done the same. Most likely, his was already back up on Fish looking for The One.
“Well, good. Maybe it’s time to take a little break,” Madison said, looking very serious. “When’s the last time you were by yourself?”
“I’ve been alone!” I cried. “After Bryan left and before I dated that shithead Michael.”
“That was months, Mombo,” Madd said patiently. “That barely counts.”
Truth be told, I hadn’t been alone since I’d met Adam in college. I’d moved from my mother’s house straight into my first apartment with Adam, and when that marriage failed, I’d met Bryan very quickly afterward. Too soon? Maybe.
“Don’t tell me to read books on being my own best friend and draw smiley faces on Post-Its to stick all over the house,” I said, wishing I didn’t sound so shrill.
Madison sighed. “It seems to me you’re afraid of being alone.”
“Well, I’m not. Not at all.”
“Just an observation,” Madd said, opening the fridge and pulling a peach from the fruit drawer.
Later, with Penny dozing on my feet in bed, after ordering peanut butter dog chews, chandelier earrings, and black-and-orange striped tights on Amazon, I heard the question over and over in my head. Was I afraid to be alone?
What was I afraid of?
It came to me hours later, when Pen was snoring but I was wide awake. I was afraid. I had many fears, but they all boiled down to this: I was afraid
