3. Anne
3
ANNE
M y brain thumps painfully inside my skull as I try to open my eyes. The lights are blinding since I forgot to pull the curtains before I went to bed. The stench of alcohol fills the room, making bile rise in my throat.
I get up to use the bathroom and realize my make up is smeared all over my face. Fudge, I hate going to bed with make up on.
Showering, I wash my hair and drink three glasses of water before the beat in my head finally settles. The newfound clear-headedness only makes me remember yesterday’s events.
Bryce telling me he’s in love with someone else.
Me crying and deciding to drown my sorrows with alcohol.
Drinking alone in Factory.
Talking to an insanely hot, tattooed guy who flirted with me as if he was interested.
Nope. That can’t be right.
Guess I was more drunk than I thought if I managed to hallucinate a whole person and conversation. And I remember it with such clarity.
But it must be impossible. His looks alone are fictional. Striking blue eyes, a jawline that can cut glass, thick biceps, and veiny forearms covered in dark, detailed tattoos.
Even the way he talked was out of a romance novel. Firecracker? Arousal blooms in my core just thinking about him calling me that. Or hallucinating about him calling me that.
There’s no way that was real.
A coffee and some bacon and eggs, that’s exactly what I need to get my head on straight.
I leave my bedroom and notice a figure sitting on my kitchen island.
“Ahh,” I shriek, not expecting anyone.
“Annie,” Bryce says wistfully. “I’m really, really sorry.”
“Don’t call me that.” I urge my voice not to break. “What are you still doing here?”
“Just wanted to know you were OK. Are you?”
“No, Bryce,” I bite out. “I’m not. How could I be?”
“I’m really sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”
“Well, you certainly did your best.” Sarcasm drips from my tone, but moisture pools in my eyes.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Annie. It just happened. She’s the one .” He has the audacity to look sorry.
I thought I was the one. The words echo inside of my head. I’m on the verge of a breakdown and I want to be alone for that. “Just leave. Please.”
He dips his head. “Most of my stuff is already downstairs.”
“I don’t care.” My voice breaks, showing my bluff.
“I really hope we can be friends,” is the last thing he says before I close the door.
I slide down the door as an imaginary weight settles on top of my chest, constricting it. Tears fall from my eyes, hitting my cheeks. This time, rather than being devastated, I feel empty.
Bryce hates conflict. It was one of the things that brought us together. I was raised not to argue, not to stir any commotion. And I especially don’t like fighting in relationships, which should be peaceful and effortless.
Our relationship was exactly that, but I’m guessing it was effortless because he was putting in effort with someone else.
Instead of spending my Saturday morning volunteering at the domestic violence safe house like I usually do, I stress clean my entire apartment with blurry vision and a runny nose. I would hardly be useful there in the mental state I’m in, so I focus on erasing every mention of Bryce from my apartment. Luna, my cat, follows me around, concerned with my unhinged behavior until it’s time for me to meet my friends for drinks.
I expect to see him all around my apartment where he lived the last three months. However, nothing’s different than before he moved in. He was even considerate enough to take the few photos of us we had in the living room. Too bad he wasn’t considerate enough to not fall for someone else.
“He what?” Natalie shrieks, her dark brown curls bobbing as she gets into the booth across from me. The most secluded booth in Factory, just in case I didn’t hallucinate the guy from yesterday. I would like to avoid seeing him ever again.
“He said he was in love with someone else and he’s leaving to be with her,” I repeat, hoping that it will get easier the more I say it.
“Fucking idiot,” Rina scoffs, taking a swig of her drink. Natalie nods in agreement.
“I’m so sorry, Annie.”
I wince at Matt’s words. “Don’t call me Annie, please.” I used to hate that nickname, but found it kind of sweet when Bryce used it. Now it makes me sick.
“Sorry.” His green eyes are apologetic, and I know he’s sorry for more than that. The three of them work with me at the Butterfly Youth Center, also known as BYC, and are, without a doubt, my best friends. Matt’s arm wraps around Natalie’s shoulders and tears return to my eyes.
“Don’t rub it in, guys,” Rina scolds them and Matt quickly removes his arm.
“Don’t listen to her. I’m happy to see you in love.” And it’s the truth. Even though Matt and I used to be partners in the ‘finding true love’ crime and their hate to love story is disgustingly romantic.
Yesterday I gave up on the notion of love, but seeing them today, I know it’s possible. Just not for me, I guess.
“Seriously, what’s wrong with me?” I’ve been looking for love since learning what the word means, and I’ve made exactly zero progress. I would dare to say I’m even worse off than when I started.
“Absolutely nothing. Don’t you dare get on the self-hate train. You’re amazing and those assholes are not your fault.” Rina shows her protective mom side, her hazel eyes full of honesty.
“I’m the one choosing these a-holes.” I don’t really curse. That’s not what ladies do , as my mom would say.
“Only because the right one hasn’t appeared yet. But I’m sure he will.”
“It’s easy for you to say, Rins. It’s getting harder to believe it when I’m nowhere close to finding my Connor. Where is Connor, by the way? Watching Eric?” Connor is Rina’s husband and Eric is their seven year old.
“No, no. He went to meet an old hockey friend. He’ll meet us here when they’re done.” She glances at the door. “Oh, there he is. Connor!” she yells and waves.
I turn around to say ‘Hi’ but quickly regret it.
“Shoot,” I say, mostly to myself, noticing he’s not alone.
Nope, the object of my hallucination stands right next to Connor. The man’s light hair is mussed, his eyes even brighter than yesterday.
“Hi, guys. This is Lennox. He just moved to Seattle, so I brought him to meet some new people.” Connor shrugs, and Lennox starts shaking hands with everyone. I guess no one notices my shock.
Last in line, he puts his hand out for me to shake. Our hands connect and tiny zings of electricity shoot through my arm.
“Lennox,” he says, his deep voice warming my insides.
“Anne,” I squeak out, and he smirks. What is he doing here?
It was embarrassing enough when I thought I’d never see him again. But this, after everything I shared yesterday? After talking about nine-inch wieners?
My cheeks heat at the thought and I’m probably red as a beet. Way to go, humiliating myself even more.
He sits next to me, because why not.
“So, what’s up?” Connor asks after he and Rina share a passionate kiss hello. His smile drops when his eyes land on my probably puffy ones.
“Bryce and Anne broke up.” Rina brings him up to speed. “I hope it’s OK I talk about it now.” She points a look at the newcomer in our little group.
“Sure,” I say. It can’t be worse than yesterday, right?
“Bryce and Anne dated for a year and a half. Lived together,” she informs Lennox. “And yesterday he told her he fell in love with someone else.”
“Oh?” Lennox states, pretending to not remember knowing all about it, which I’m beyond thankful for.
“Fucking idiot,” Connor scoffs, mirroring Rina’s words from before.
“That’s what I said,” Rina says with a wide smile. I groan at their cuteness.
“I’m the only single one now.” The realization hits me.
“I’m single, too. Plan to stay that way,” Lennox buts in.
“Sorry, but you just came here, you don’t really count,” Natalie states, making me chuckle at her directness.
“It doesn’t count if it’s by choice. Only if you’re desperate to fall in love and unsuccessful in it.” My drink, once again, flows faster than recommended.
“Well, people desperate for love can sometimes imagine emotions that aren’t really there. Were you two really in love, or did you just want to be in love?” His brows shoot up, taunting me.
Lennox’s words hit me like a truck. Were we? I was, or at least I thought I was. But was Bryce?
Natalie comes to my rescue. “Wow, Connor, your friend is a well of wisdom, isn’t he?”
“I’m just saying,” the unwelcome guest doubles down. “People in love don’t go falling in love with someone else.”
“So you’re saying I just made it all up in my head?” Moisture starts pooling in my eyes, an act as familiar as breathing in the last two days.
“What I think Lennox is trying to say”—Rina takes my hand in hers—“is that maybe he wasn’t as perfect as you thought him to be.”
“But he was pretty great? He was considerate, gentle, and loving.” I list the items off with my fingers.
“He was cheap and boring in bed,” Natalie blurts out.
“Nat!” Matt scolds her, his eyes glaring.
“What? It had to be said,” she responds while another wave of shame washes over me.
They start arguing over the appropriateness of her statement while my thoughts drift away.
He might have been a bit frugal, but I wouldn’t say he was cheap.
“Is she right?” Lennox nudges my shoulder, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Not sure. Still thinking it through.”
Was he boring in bed? I don’t think so. He was no worse than my previous partners. And maybe I haven’t enjoyed it every single time, but that’s normal, isn’t it? Maybe I’m the boring one.
“You’re not,” he states, not even looking at me. Shoot. Did I say that out loud?
“Yes, you did.”
“Fuck.” I snap my hand to my mouth, my stomach dropping. Can I do anything but make a fool out of myself in front of this person?
“Don’t worry,” he says on a dark chuckle. “Your secret’s safe with me.” His wink shoots through all the layers of my current dejected state, straight to my core.
“I need another drink,” I groan, waving to the server.
“So, Lennox, tell us more about yourself,” Rina asks.
“Connor and I used to play hockey together in Boston.” Oh yes, he’s a hockey player. As if he wasn’t fictional enough. “I retired a few months ago and started looking for a city to settle in. Connor recommended the scene here, so I came.” He shrugs.
“The scene?” Natalie asks, her brows furrowed.
Lennox glances at Connor, who responds with a confident nod.
“The kink scene. Connor recommended a club here that he claims is off the charts.”
“So you chose your place of living because of a sex club?” Natalie snorts.
“Yeah, I guess you can say that. But nothing was keeping me in Boston, and a good sex club is as good a reason as any,” Lennox says.
Of course, he’s a member of a sex club. Look at him. My ears start burning when I remember all the embarrassing stuff he learned about me in the last two days.
Last of which is the fact that I think I’m boring in bed. My insides clench on an internal groan.
Because the truth of the matter is, even though I’m aware Bryce wasn’t perfect, he was still pretty amazing. There’s a tiny part of me thinking that the reason he left, that the reason all the ones before him left, was the fact I’m boring.
No matter how much I try to be the perfect girlfriend, I still always come up short. And it’s a thought worse than any breakup.