Chapter 29
T he following month was filled with more of the same mundane shit. My job, which I hadn't been truly passionate about, annoyed me even more than usual. I rebuffed offers to go out with co-workers—co-workers I realized had gossiped behind my back that something more was happening with Carly. That stupid dinner I had with her seemed to confirm it for them. I didn't bother correcting them. I clocked in, did my job, and went home. Well, Sene's home.
I barely spoke with Carly unless it was work-related. She'd gotten over my rejection of her after our dinner and had attempted to rekindle our friendship. I recognized now that a friendship with her should never have gone beyond work or group drinks. I never should've started confiding in her about my marriage. And when she suggested why my wife acted a certain way, I should've stood up for Frankie. I should've shut down the conversation.
Instead, I fed off Carly's echo chamber. Everything I confided in her, she agreed. She added fuel to the fire and encouraged the widening gap between Frankie and me. I hadn't even known she was doing it until we were having drinks in her hotel room, and I realized how intimate we were becoming. How easy it would be to start fresh with someone who "got me."
Carly wasn't a real friend. Sene was. Nellie was—or had been. They weren't afraid to call me out on my bullshit. I'd hidden so much from them, from everyone—because deep down, I knew I was wrong. I hid my fears and worries from Frankie instead of leaning into and trusting her quiet strength.
After work, I hit the grocery store for a little top-up shop. Sene was home tonight, and I'd taken to cooking dinner for us. It was the least I could do for putting up with me. I did have to start looking for a new place soon, though. The thought was daunting.
"Hey, man."
I turned at the greeting, wincing internally when I saw who it was. It was always awkward seeing a colleague in the wild—kind of like seeing your teacher.
"Hey, Mike. How's it going?"
He leaned against his cart, grinning at me. "Good, good." He eyed my shopping basket. "Picking up some dinner?"
I held up my basket awkwardly. "Just a top-up shop." I planned on making tacos for dinner. What a sad little life I led now.
His head bobbed up and down. "Cool, cool," he repeated. His expression brightened. "Hey, you coming to Friday drinks? Been a while since you were out."
I averted my gaze, pretending to scour the nearby shelves. "Yeah, just been tired a lot lately."
"Trouble in paradise?"
I frowned and glared at him. I was tight-lipped about my split from Frankie and the details surrounding it. It was no one's business.
"Carly," he clarified at my dark expression.
My head reared back. "What?"
One brow lifted. "Aren't you two dating?"
My face heated in embarrassment and anger. That fucking social media post she made really fucked me over. But at the end of the day, the fault still lay with me.
"No," I gritted out. "No, we were never dating."
"Oh." He looked genuinely shocked, his face flushing. "Ah, okay. Sorry."
Mike suddenly looked desperate to be anywhere but here. But before he scurried away, I had a thought. Something that had been bugging me for a little while.
"Hey, can I ask you…when we were in Charleston. Do you remember Carly inviting us for drinks in her room before dinner? The last night we were there?"
He frowned, his mind ticking over in thought. "Yeah," he finally nodded.
My gut sank. "Okay."
"But then she canceled on us."
"What?"
"Yeah, we were about to head to her room, but she texted us that she was tired and wanted to take a power nap before dinner."
I was an idiot.
He seemed to sense that something was off with his answer. He leaned towards me, his voice low. "I don't want to cause problems here, but Carly's been telling everyone you left your wife for her."
The color drained from my face. That explained the smirks and whispers I'd seen from my peers. The nudges that Carly received whenever I came into her department. The smug smile on her face.
I thanked Mike before abandoning my half-full basket. I marched outside and pulled up Carly's number.
I'd let the post on her socials page go without confronting her or asking her to take it down. I stopped responding to her calls and texts unless they were work-related. Whenever we talked at work, it was usually through our work chat box. Whenever she stopped by my desk, I turned down her lunch invites. I thought I was being more than clear that our friendship was over. But obviously she hadn't received the message.
"Drew?"
"Carly,” I growled. “I just want to be clear. You and I are never going to happen." I wanted to get straight to the point. I didn’t want to prolong my conversation with her any longer than necessary.
'Wh-what are you talking about?" she stammered.
'I was told that you've been telling people we're dating, that I left my wife for you."
There was a slight pause before she made a small scoffing sound of amusement. "Well, didn't you?"
"No,” I firmly denied. “I went out on one date with you, which was a mistake."
"And what about our lunch dates, our drinks out," her voice turned low. "Our night in my hotel room?"
"Nothing happened, and nothing should've happened because I was never meant to be there alone. Was I?"
Another pause. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Carly, I'm more to blame for you thinking something more would happen or was happening. I'm sorry if I led you on, but it's over now. I'm not interested in being anything to you other than a co-worker. Please stop telling people we're together, and don't mention me in any capacity other than professional."
With that, I hung up without waiting for her response. I'd planned to go back inside and continue my shop, but I was too wound up. Fuck it. I'd just order takeout for us. A night wallowing in greasy food was what I deserved.