“I’m done, Fletch. If you don’t want to be a part of my life, that’s fine, but I’d rather get started living my own life without you in it.”
Almost like magic, his demeanor switched from wanting to plead to keep me around, to getting angry. I didn’t like the shift I was witnessing, especially when it was him going on the defensive.
“I’m sorry I can’t live up to your expectations!” he said sarcastically.
I shook my head sadly and moved around him toward the door. “I didn’t have any expectations for you. I only wanted you to be there. Only wanted a place in your life. But you haven’t changed.”
“I’ll change! If that’s what you need, I’ll change for you,” he called as I grabbed the doorknob.
“I’ve tried to be patient and understanding, but you only use me. You only spend time with me when it’s convenient for you, and even then, you’re constantly glued to your work phone, as though you always prefer work over me. And I don’t understand how your job takes up so much of your time!”
“That is not true!” he snapped. “There is nowhere else I’d rather be than with you. Work is just unfortunately busy right now. It will get better, I promise!”
“You say that, but the last couple months you haven’t shown me that. I’m really sorry, Fletcher, but I think it’s time we both went our separate ways.”
“No—I want to be there for you Saidy. I—” A phone ringing shrilly interrupted his promises. With a muttered curse he picked up the phone and answered.
“Hello. Yeah. Yeah. Okay. I’ll be there in five. Bye.”
That was my chance for escape, to prove to him that what I said a moment ago was completely true. Let him think on that as he watches me walk out the door. Before he even hung up the phone, I stepped outside and closed the door before he could say anything else to me. Obviously, he was back to dealing with a work emergency that couldn’t possibly be handled without him.
Which meant that I was off to purge my house and my heart of Fletcher.
When I got home from Fletcher’s, I carried in the box I’d had to pick up from the post office at lunch time. My mailman still did not deliver my packages. I thought something would change when I chased him down and scared the life out of him.
But it hadn’t. I was still left tracking down my packages like a world-class treasure hunter.
Numbly, I pulled out a pair of travel scissors from my purse and began opening the box resting on my entryway table. Pulling the bubble wrap out, I gasped as I stared at a trophy.
A glistening, golden trophy with the words “World’s Worst Boyfriend” etched into it.
I’d forgotten entering him into the contest meant I’d actually won something. Pulling the trophy out, I set it on the table with a loud thunk. Wow, it was a sturdy little sucker.
A small card lay on top of a magazine and book. I pulled them out. It was a $500 gift card to Target, the Bee Best magazine, and a relationship guide called Me First. How appropriate.
Well, I was looking forward to using at least one of those things. I didn’t know what to do with the giant trophy or the relationship guide, though. The last thing I wanted was to jump back into something with some random person.
I added the packaging to my recycle bin under my sink and turned to stare at the World’s Worst Boyfriend trophy that sparkled across the room.
I knew exactly what I should do to begin having some closure. I should purge my house of everything Fletcher-related. But instead, I turned on my electric fireplace, sat down in my chair and began looking at pictures of the two of us.
There was the night we went on our first date and we stood awkwardly close together trying to take a selfie. He’d kissed me before we even made it to dinner.
Then there was the time we went ice skating and I had to hold his hand to help steady him. The next picture of us was at a paintball range. I’d absolutely hated it, but Fletcher had been laughing like a little boy. I might have let him think I’d absolutely loved it too. (I didn’t.) We’d been back five times since we’d been dating, and even made some new friends from it. Milo and Andrea had been another couple we’d been teamed up with, so I guess at least some good things came from playing paintball.
Next was a picture of Fletcher and my grandmother at her bridge night. No one was allowed to interrupt, except Fletcher. I’d started wielding him like a secret weapon after I discovered that. He was happy to do it for me too. It was one of those sweet, endearing things I loved about him.
Something I wouldn’t get to enjoy anymore.
I’m not sure how long I sat there sobbing my eyes out looking at our pictures. Long enough to let my mascara run down my cheeks, that was for sure.
I stood up on shaky legs and locked the front door.
I’d worry about purging my house from Fletcher tomorrow. It was getting late anyway. Right now, I just wanted to be hopelessly sad—in my comfy bed.
I walked into the laundry room to double check that the back door was locked. A wave of something vile hit me when I walked into the laundry room…
An appalling, disgusting smell assaulted my nose.
Whatever the smell was, it wasn’t from my clothes. I was completely caught up on laundry and even at its dirtiest it never smelled that bad. Usually, the strongest my clothes smelled was when I’d been painting.
This was a different smell. Rank. I wondered if a mouse died under my house. Nothing could stink quite as much as a mouse.
