Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
ALLEY
There’s this rule of three I remember from a lecture in college—humans can only survive three minutes without air, three days without water, and three weeks without food. That’s it. That’s all we need to stay alive.
I have those things, and I’m grateful for them. I truly am. Every day that air fills my lungs is a gift denied to many. I know that.
The list for happiness is a little more complicated. There’s the basics: connection, purpose, security, identity. And then there’s the bigger stuff, things that bring each person joy.
If I had to make a list of those things, I could fill a page, easily. Vacations. Sun. Coffee. Friends.
But the first thing on that list?
Jensen.
And that’s the problem. Jensen doesn’t just top the list—he makes everything on it better. What’s a vacation without him there to share it? How do I enjoy a warm, sunny day without him? Coffee and quiet chats on Saturday mornings? Gone. And hanging out with friends, like I am now?
It’s not the same. Not as meaningful as it used to be. I can’t go home and tell him about it. I can’t share the laughter or the little moments. Every joy feels half-formed now, like a joke, but no one’s there to laugh with.
I look down at my drink—the one I’ve been nursing all night. It’s my second, and it’s nearly gone. I’m really trying not to go over my two-drink max again. I’m not my father. I’m not Jensen. I don’t need alcohol to have a good time.
But somewhere along the way, the line started to blur.
For so long, I had to be strong—for me and for Jensen, trying to help him while not falling apart myself.
When I finally left, it was like everything I’d been carrying for two years came crashing down, and I just completely lost who I was.
The rule that used to be concrete, non-negotiable, suddenly felt flexible.
Maybe it’s the looming divorce. Or the things I’ve seen that I can’t unsee. Maybe it’s the cold side of the bed. Or the hollow ache that comes from missing the only person who ever really saw me—the one person I care about more than anyone else.
I glance around the lounge at Tapped Out, a members-only club Leo co-owns with Matt. It’s classy—dim lighting, moody atmosphere, strict dress code. I’ve been to Matt’s club a few times in New York, but this is my first time here. It’s newer. Bigger. Impressive.
Leo and Vivian leave Monday to visit her family for the holidays, so tonight they’re hosting a small holiday get-together with close friends.
Usually, the drinks make me fun. I laugh, loosen up, have a decent time. My friends are great, and the buzz feels good. But tonight, it’s not working. Not after the text Jensen sent yesterday.
I let it get to me. What was the point of that message? To make me feel guilty? Like I’m the bad guy in all this?
It’s not like I don’t already feel those things.
I tip back the rest of my drink, letting it burn down the thoughts, and set the glass down harder than I mean to.
I cross my legs, bare thighs brushing together. I’m wearing a short black romper I bought last minute with sheer balloon sleeves and an open back. It’s wintery and flattering. My hair’s long now, curled in loose waves. I look good. And thanks to the two mojitos, I feel sexy.
There are good-looking men everywhere. And part of me wishes I could find one to take me home, get my mind off Jensen.
I lock eyes with a guy a few tables over, and a shiver runs down my spine. He’s tall, handsome, flashing a smile like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
He has no idea.
My eyes narrow as I try to picture it—him and me, somewhere private. His lips on mine, his hands on my body. But every time I blink, all I see is Jensen.
I scoff quietly to myself. If only it were that easy—for someone to fuck him right out of my mind.
Yeah… right.
It’s a war between my heart and my head. I know I should move on. I filed for divorce. I made that final call. But my heart still belongs to him. And even if I didn’t see Jensen in every stranger’s face, it’s pointless. I’m still married.
So here I am. Thinking about how this night should be fun. Picking at the cheese board. Drinking mojitos. Waiting for something to change.
Alone.
Okay—not alone. But everyone else is paired up. Michael and Stella. Leo and Vivian. Cooper and Ryan. Me, my sad thoughts, and my now-empty drink.
“Die Hard is not a Christmas movie!” Stella insists for the third time, as Michael and Ryan try to argue their case.
“If it’s not a Christmas movie, then why do we watch it every December?” Michael counters.
“Because you make me,” Stella shoots back.
We all laugh—well, sort of. I’m trying.
“Home Alone is hands down the best. Don’t even argue,” Cooper says.
Vivian grins. “It’s good, but I love Jim Carrey. The Grinch will always be my favorite.”
Leo points at Cooper. “No, she’s right. Home Alone takes the win. And Stella, I’m sorry, but I’m with the guys. Die Hard counts.”
“What about you, Al?” Vivian asks.
“Oh, um… Home Alone, for sure. But I love the second one. I’m a sucker for New York.” A smile tugs at my lips, and for a second, I let myself enjoy the moment.
That’s when Adam shows up. And hey, at least I’m not the only single one anymore.
“Hey!” everyone chimes in at once.
“Hey guys. Sorry I’m late, got held up at the office.”
Leo stands to greet him, slapping his back. “No worries, mate. Glad you made it.”
“Here, why don’t you sit next to Alley,” Vivian offers, sliding out of the booth.
Adam scoots in beside me.
“Hey, Al.”
“Hey,” I reply, trying to sound upbeat.
The cocktail waitress swings by, and Adam orders a drink while Cooper, Leo, and Michael ask for refills.
Adam’s cute. He always has been. But when I glance at the side of his face, I feel… nothing.
Damn. If my childhood crush can’t even get me excited about being single, I’m screwed.
The truth is, I’m terrified of being divorced.
You’d think I’d be used to the idea by now.
I’ve had four months to prepare. And what’s worse is, I don’t know if it’s the idea of being single that scares me—dating, putting myself out there, being vulnerable, being lonely—or if it’s knowing no one will ever measure up to the Jensen I loved when things were good.
When he was mine. When he was still him.
No one else will ever be that great. Ever.
Shit. Am I being too brash? Do I give him another chance? I clearly want to.
But all I have to do is remember our last night together. And the one before that. And the week before that.
The night he chose his backpack over me.
Laughter pulls me back to the present. Leo catches my gaze from across the table and gives me a wink. On the end, Ryan pulls Cooper in for a heated kiss. It makes me envious as hell, and at the same time, it makes me want to cry.
I grab my phone from my purse. I still need to text Jensen. I can’t live in this nothing space any longer.
Pulling up our text thread, I reread his last message. Then the one I sent a few days ago.
And then I read them again.
I don’t know why this is so hard. The decision’s been made. We’re getting a divorce. Seeing him would only confuse things. Hurt us both.
My fingers move before I can talk myself out of it.
Hey… I’ve had some time to think about it, and I really think it’s best if we let our lawyers handle everything. I don’t want to question my decision. I don’t trust myself to see you. But I’m really happy you’re doing well. Thanks for reaching out.
Thanks for reaching out? I stare at the words. They feel cold. Robotic. Final. But maybe that’s what they need to be.
I hit send.
There. One step forward.
Now—on to getting over him.
My eyes drift back to Adam.
Feel something, dammit. Come on, he’s hot. He’s backup material.
Nope. Still nothing. Not even buzzed.
He turns to me suddenly, one eyebrow cocked. “Why are you shaking your head?”
Shit. “What?” I grab my empty glass and take a sip of air.
“You were shaking your head. And your drink’s empty.”
“I know,” I grumble. “There was still a drop at the bottom.”
“Oh my God.” Adam laughs. “You’re drunk.”
“I am not.” I run a hand through my hair before giving him a playful shove, eyes locked on his. “I have a very healthy buzz, and that’s all.”
“What was that—are you flirting with me? You’re definitely drunk.” He lifts a finger and waves it in front of me. “Here—follow this.”
“You’re such a jackass.” I roll my eyes and follow it anyway.
He laughs again. “Okay, okay. You’re not drunk. But you did look lost in your own thoughts. Care to share?”
“Care to share?” I snort. “Is that the new Care Bear slogan?”
“What the hell is a Care Bear?”
“Stop it. You’re older than me. How do you not know what a Care Bear is?”
He shrugs. “No sisters, I guess.”
I squint at him, a smile tugging at my lips. “I can’t tell if you’re joking.”
His lips twitch, then break into a grin. “I’m just pulling your leg. Big fan of Grumpy Bear. And whatever the fucking lion’s name was. He was cool.”
I laugh, and damn, it feels good. First time all day I haven’t thought about Jensen.
Adam’s gaze meets mine. “So? What were you thinking about when you should have been having a good time?”
I cross my arms, caught off guard by how easily he sees through me.
Before I can answer, Cooper calls out across the table. “Hey, Al—we’re going to the bar. You coming?”
“Maybe later,” I say, forcing a smile.
Michael and Ryan stay behind as the others slide out of the booth.
Adam raises his eyebrows, still waiting.
I glance at him, then exhale. “Honestly?”
He nods.
“I was sitting here trying to imagine being single again. Trying to figure out how I’m supposed to move on when there’s not a single guy in here who even sparks my interest. No offense.” I glance at him. “Present company included.”
“Ouch,” he says with a laugh.