Chapter 4
Maddy
Closure. This is just for closure.
I bite down on my lip as I push through the door of the café—one of Wes’ and my favorite breakfast spots. It’s only been three hours since I did the walk of shame, and that thought still lingers, even if I showered and am now in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie.
I search the customer’s faces until I find the one that makes my stomach surge with nausea. Wes sits by the window, tapping on his phone. When he sees me, he waves like I’m a neighbor he’s only met once.
Ugh. This is fucking torture.
I walk in, my head pounding from a hellacious hangover, and Wes stands up as if he’s going to hug me. But I just glare at him, and he looks back at me like I’m the one who fucked up.
“Hey,” he says, as if he didn’t fuck a stranger on a prep table less than twenty-four hours ago.
My brain is reeling and the only word I manage is, “Hi.”
He sits. I sit. There’s a second where I wonder if either of us is going to say another word.
Why did I agree to this?
He goes first. “You look good. Is that a new hoodie?” He says it with such transparent insincerity that I almost laugh.
“It’s a hoodie from high school,” I deadpan, as the waitress sets down my usual latte. “How are you?”
“Not great,” he mumbles. “I feel horrible.”
“Probably the hangover.” I carefully scoot my latte closer to me.
“So…” Wes adjusts his coffee cup so it sits perfectly in the ring of condensation left by the last patron.
“So,” I echo, my eyes shifting to the window. The sidewalk is alive with dogs on leashes and joggers with headphones, all of them looking like their lives are way better than mine right now.
He clears his throat. “Look, I know this is weird. But I wanted to see you, you know, in person. Face to face. I know you said we were over…” He makes solid eye contact for the first time since I walked in.
He does look like shit. He’s got dark circles under his eyes and a scowl on his face. My mind jumps to Beck, with his gorgeous mouth and twinkling green eyes.
I push the thought away, trying to shake that encounter off. It was just a hookup.
Wes leans in, voice pitched low. “Look, what happened at the wedding… I know it looked bad.” He pauses. “It was bad. But it wasn’t—like—it wasn’t about you.”
I feel my jaw tighten as I clench my teeth. “Okaaay.”
He gestures with both hands. “I got wasted. I barely even remember—like, seriously, it’s all a blur. And you know how weddings are, right? Everyone’s drunk, everyone’s horny. I didn’t even know that girl’s name.” He laughs, like it’s all just hilarious.
I stare at him, wanting to punch him. “Her name is Ellie,” I say. “She’s Elizabeth’s cousin. I figured you’d know that with how much you talked to her before the wedding.”
He blinks. “Oh. Huh. I guess that makes sense.”
We sit in silence for a few seconds, staring at each other like we weren’t saying we loved each other a day ago. The waitress brings a croissant Wes ordered, sets it down, and I watch as Wes immediately shreds it into small pieces.
And to think, I wanted to move in with this asshole.
I decide to try and wrap this up. “Anyway, I figure Riley and I can come get what I have at your place. I can do it while you’re at work.”
“Or whenever.” He shrugs and then eyes me. “You find anything jobwise today?”
I flinch. “No. Not yet. But I’ll start looking.” I take another sip of my latte, wishing I could melt into the booth and disappear.
He nods, then starts in again. “I just don’t want you to hate me forever over this. It wasn’t a thing, Mads. It was just a stupid mistake.” He holds his hands up like he’s surrendering. “Can’t we just… move past it? I can make sure I never get drunk again.”
I laugh, and the sound comes out strangled and awkward. “You cheated on me at a wedding. I think moving past it is a little optimistic.”
His face hardens. “But I said I was sorry.”
“No,” I argue, my entire body tensing. “You said you were drunk, and then you tried to blame it on me being weird lately.” I grip my mug. “You haven’t apologized. You haven’t even asked how I’m doing. You’re playing the victim of your own stupidity.”
He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.
“I lost my job. I might lose my apartment. I lost you.” I set my cup down with a thud that sloshes the hot coffee over the sides. “You know what you lost? Nothing. You never thought this was going to last anyway.”
He sets the croissant down, wipes his hands with a napkin, and stares out the window like maybe if he tries hard enough, he’ll teleport right out of here.
This is ridiculous. I grab a napkin and wipe up the spilled latte, trying to steady myself with a deep breath.
He finally looks back to me. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
I let the soiled napkin drop. “But you did.”
He looks at me, and for a moment, he almost seems repentant. “Are you going to tell people?”
I nearly choke. “Tell them what? That you’re a selfish asshole? I think they already know. Oh, wait, maybe they don’t? Because everyone seems to think you’re just the greatest guy, ever. But really, you’re just trying to shmooze your way into any vagina that will have you.”
He laughs, and I want to punch him. “C’mon, Maddy. You’re not perfect either. You’re always so distant. Like you never trusted me. That’s not exactly a turn-on, you know?”
The line lands like a slap to the face. “I was trying to survive. Sorry if I didn’t make it sexy enough for you. This has been a super hard year of trying to figure out where I fit, all while having a relationship with someone who obviously doesn’t want to commit.”
His nostrils flare, and then he lifts his fist, like he might slam it onto the tabletop. However, he manages to find some restraint he didn’t have last night. “Look, can we just—can we try to be friends? I don’t want to lose that.”
Fuck no.
I scoot violently out of the booth. “You lost it, Wes. You threw it away.” I stand, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “We’re done. I deserve better than someone who cheats on me and then can’t even properly apologize.”
He stares at me, genuinely stunned. For a second, I think he might cry, but he just sits there, mouth open, as if he’s completely devoid of a fucking brain.
Because he probably is.
I walk past people who are staring up at me, trying to ignore the ache in my legs and the twist in my stomach, knowing they probably heard the whole thing—and got a kick out of it.
Outside, I push through the door and into the sunlight.
I stand for a second on the sidewalk, letting the air fill my lungs with fresh, Wes-free oxygen.
I pull out my phone, delete Wes’s number, call Riley, and keep walking.
“Okay, so you didn’t murder him, right?” Riley answers, already having heard the entire story about Wes and Ellie earlier.
“No crimes were committed,” I say, brushing some hair out of my face. “I didn’t tell him about what I did afterward, either.”
“It was over, and you had a random hookup with some guy that you’re never going to see again.” Riley sounds like she’s eating something on the other line. “It’s none of his damn business what you do with your life now.”
My lips twist. “You don’t think it’s icky?”
“Not at all,” Riley laughs. “I think it’s great revenge. Are you coming over? I don’t want you going home and eating ice cream all alone.”
I grin, feeling relief roll through my shoulders. “I was hoping that you could help me search for a new job. Now that I definitely won’t be moving in with Wes, I’m going to have to figure something out.”
“Well, worst case scenario, we can somehow make my studio apartment work for the both of us.” Riley giggles, but the thought sends a shockwave of nerves through my body.
I can’t imagine trying to share Riley’s tiny space.
“I’ll be there in like fifteen minutes,” I force my voice to sound light, as my hangover pounds in my head.
I spend the rest of the walk lost in the seriously satisfying hookup. Maybe it’s just the simple fact that I was desperate, but also…
Beck was incredible.
Which is why he gets laid all the time, I rationalize with myself. And for all I know, he might be exactly like Wes.
I pick up my pace and make it to Riley’s apartment in less than ten minutes.
“You look like shit,” Riley says as soon as she opens the door. “I mean, I knew it was bad, but not this bad.”
“It’s bad,” I sigh.
She gives me the saddest look and then hugs me. As soon as she lets me go, I drop my purse on her barstool and collapse into the beanbag that’s shaped like an avocado, pit included. It’s eccentric. But so is Riley.
Riley plops beside me on a tomato bean bag with her laptop, giving me a smile. “Let’s get you a new job,” she says, shifting her attention to the computer.
I watch the screen as Riley flicks between job boards and a copy of my resume. She goes into overdrive, and I know it’s best to just go along for the ride. Meanwhile, I’m half-asleep in the avocado, letting her create my fate, when my phone vibrates.
It’s a number I don’t recognize, but the area code is familiar.
I stare at it, thinking a million things at once.
“Answer it,” Riley says to me, confused by my hesitation.
I give her a dirty look and then do as she says. “Hello?”
“Maddy,” Wes’s voice comes through the phone. “It’s me. I’m using Jared’s phone. Mine died. Can we just—”
“Nope.” I hang up and immediately block the number. “I swear to god, why are men always so desperate once they fuck it up?”
Riley pauses, looking up from the screen. “Wes? Or the hot hookup guy?”
I frown. “Hot hookup guy doesn’t have my number.”
“What a shame,” she giggles, and then turns her computer to face me. “I’ve already compiled a list of potential jobs.”
I narrow my gaze, reading the first line. “Executive assistant for Modern Edge Development. That sounds like something I’m not qualified to do.”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s a glorified secretary. You’re more than qualified, and also, it’s the highest-paying job on the list. I think it should be a high priority. I’m applying for you right now. It says they have a quick response rate.”
I shrug. “Whatever it takes to not have to sell my body on the corner.”
Riley pats my leg. “Good girl.”
And my mind goes right back to Beck.
Damn. Maybe I should’ve left my number.
“Hey!” Riley perks up a few moments later. “You already have a response.”
“Probably an automatic rejection,” I snort, shaking my head.
My best friend kicks me and then spins the laptop. “Nope. It’s an invitation to interview.”