19 Sloane
June 2017
No one talks about the morning after a breakup enough. Swollen eyes. Waking up—if you were lucky enough to sleep—wondering if it was just a nightmare. Realizing that it wasn’t. The pain in your heart reappearing. No Good morning text. No I’m sorry I fucked up voicemail. Nothing. That was your new reality. A cold bed, an empty stomach, and an ache in your chest that you fear will never go away.
I looked at myself in the front camera on my phone, because I didn’t know if I’d be able to get out of bed. My eyes were the size of golf balls; I’m surprised I could even open them. There was no way I could keep my composure for an entire day in the office, and even if I could, my appearance would scare off all my new coworkers.
“Can you call in sick today?” Lauren stood at the end of my bed.
I hated lying, but I knew that was my only option. I handed Lauren my phone so she could send a message to Annie for me. I watch her type away, hit send, and place the phone back on my bed.
“Do you want me to stay home?” she offered.
“We can’t both lose our jobs.” I let out a slight laugh.
“You know I’d stay if I could. Call me if you need anything—and don’t start drinking until at least four. Okay?”
The silence after the front door clicked shut felt heavy, loaded with the weight of finality. My fingers trembled slightly as I reached for my phone, scrolling to the one person who always seemed to have the answers. Well, about Ethan anyway.
“Hello?” he answered groggily.
“Hey, Graham,” I replied.
“Everything okay? You never call this early.” His voice was thick, and I knew he was hungover. I wanted to ask what he did last night, but it probably involved Ethan, and unfortunately, he was none of my business anymore.
I pressed my free hand against my forehead, willing back the tears. “I’m… How are you?”
“Sloane, cut the shit. What’s going on?” He was more awake now.
With a deep breath that did little to calm me, I confessed. “Ethan dumped me. Over text. I just don’t get it. Was I not enough for him?” I started to sniffle.
There was a pause, and I could almost hear Graham’s gears turning, trying to find the right words. “Look, Sloane, it’s not about you being enough or not. Ethan’s got issues, like…with letting people in. To be honest, I’m kinda shocked you got past his walls as much as you did.
“Wow, thanks, Graham.” I couldn’t help the slightly sarcastic laugh that escaped me.
“No, no, I mean—” He cleared his throat. “Sorry, I’m not really firing on all cylinders yet. What I’m trying to say is, Ethan’s never opened up to someone like he has with you. Maybe he just needs a bit of space… He might come around.”
“I shouldn’t want someone who comes back. I should want someone who never leaves. Right? I mean, that’s what Lauren’s been saying this whole time. I should be with someone who’s sure about me.”
There was a heavy sigh on the other end, the kind that said he was weighing his next words very carefully. “Okay, I’m gonna tell you something, and Brady would absolutely lose his shit if he knew I told you…”
“What is it?” My curiosity was piqued.
“This is between us. Got it? Not even Lauren can know.”
I gulped, my anxiety surging. He knew I was horrible at keeping secrets.
“Okay?” he asked again.
“I won’t say anything,” I promised.
“I still don’t really know all the details, just what’s been relayed to me through him, my parents, and some news articles,” Graham started. “When he was thirteen, both of his parents were arrested. They were drinking and driving, and they killed someone on a bike.”
I was speechless, so he continued. “Brady’s dad had a few prior DUIs. He owned a hole-in-the-wall bar in Carolina Beach, so I think he’d drink a lot while he was there. Apparently, there was a party at the bar the night of the accident, which is why Ethan’s mom was also in the car. She was sentenced to a year, mostly for hiding information about the case, and his dad was sentenced to ten. When his mom was released, we all expected her to come back for him. That was the plan, according to Brady. She never showed up, and it broke him. He never said it, but we all knew. We could see it in everything he did. My mom tried to get in contact with her a few times, but she acted like that part of her life never existed. As far as my family knows, his mom moved somewhere like Oklahoma or Texas, I forget which one, but she got remarried and has another kid. His dad gets out next year, but I don’t think they’re in contact.”
“Oh my—” I couldn’t even finish my sentence. I truly didn’t know what to say. What could I say to that?
“Yeah, so, I mean, I think that’s everything. Brady’s a good guy; he just has a lot of baggage, which is why I wanted to tell you this. It’s not that he can’t be with you; it’s that he can’t be with anyone. He doesn’t know how to. Does any of this help? Or did I make things worse?”
“It helps a lot. I just feel bad that I didn’t see it. How could I not see it?”
“You can’t blame yourself. Remember, you know none of this. It’s not something you need to address, but I was hoping it would make you see his side of things. He has a lot of work on himself to do, but I like you for him.”
“Thanks, Graham.” I wiped a tear from my cheek. “Miss you.”
“Miss you too, Sloane.”
My thoughts were racing at a million miles per minute as I tried to make sense of the situation. I felt bad, horrible actually, and I wanted to understand it, but I couldn’t.
If you loved someone, I mean really loved them, would you be willing to just let them go? Especially over something from your past that you couldn’t control? My parents’ divorce did a number on me. For a little while I wondered if I would ever truly love someone, and if I did, would I live in constant fear wondering if they’d just leave one day? Then I met Ethan, and those thoughts didn’t cross my mind once.
So no, I didn’t want to let him go. But I knew once the shock and initial pain subsided, I’d have to, because that’s what he did to me. He let me go without thinking twice, and I think that was what hurt the most—thinking I meant something to him, just for him to show me that I didn’t.
***
The next morning I felt okay enough to go back to work. I walked down the long hall from the elevator to my cube and wondered if I’d be able to focus on anything besides Ethan. I stopped in the doorway of my workspace and admired the bouquet that was placed in front of my monitor. I set down my bag and pulled out the note that was tucked in between the peonies.
Sloane, a card and flowers can’t make this better, but I’m giving them to you anyway. XO, Annie.
How did Annie know about the breakup? I sorted through my tote bag until I found my phone and immediately pulled up the message Lauren had sent to her yesterday on my behalf.
7:08 a.m.
Me:Hi, Annie, this is Sloane’s roommate. To be completely honest, she got broken up with last night and isn’t doing too well. She really needs to take the day. Hope you understand, and please don’t fire her for this!
“Got a sec?” Annie appeared at my desk.
“I’m so sorry about this.” I held up my phone, which was open to our text conversation. “I had no idea.”
“Don’t be sorry. I appreciate the honesty. You have a great roommate.” She leaned on the edge of my desk. “Your twenties are hard, and breakups are no joke. Why don’t you try writing about it? Maybe you can pitch me some bylines next week? Or whenever you’re ready. No rush! Just don’t be afraid to be vulnerable and put these feelings into words. You’d be surprised at how cathartic it is. Plus, it might just help you find that depth you’ve been searching for.”
Annie was right. I plugged my laptop into the monitor and sent Mila a meeting invitation for that afternoon.
“Breakup brainstorm?” Her head popped up over the half wall that separated us. “What happened? I thought you were so excited for your weekend together.”
“Long story short, he’s not ready. Too much too soon. Do you think you have some extra time this week to help me on a pitch to Annie? It seems like she’s interested in something I have to say… I just have to figure out exactly what that is.”
“Of course! I’m sorry though, about the breakup. That sucks. Well, I’ve never actually been dumped, but I can imagine that it sucks.”
“You’ve never been dumped?” I envied her.
“Nope, I end it with them before they have the chance to do the same. Saves me a whole lot of heartbreak.”
“Save it for the brainstorm sesh.” I laughed and shooed her away.
***
“Let’s start with some topics.” Mila stood in front of a whiteboard.
“If we want the readers to follow the journey of the breakup, I’m thinking we start with something small and work our way into the deeper stuff,” I explain. “Maybe like, We’ve made a postbreakup playlist, so you don’t have to?”
“Genius,” she said. “What’s next?”
“Our best breakup advice, before you get into an ‘almost relationship,’ read this, an open letter to the guy who didn’t want to date me.”
We sat in that conference room until well past 5 p.m., spewing off advice, stories from past relationships, and things we’ve read or watched in movies that stuck with us.
I spent the entire subway ride home writing articles piece by piece in the notes app on my phone. I swore, if anyone ever had access to these, I’d have personally dug my own grave and buried myself in there. Midnight thoughts, drunk rants, things I’d never have told anyone. Good thing they were password protected. Hopefully Annie would like at least one of them. Maybe this could finally be my big break.