Chapter 11
“You will not believe what happened today.” My body was humming while I stared at Bradford’s perfect face on my phone.
Bradford’s smile matched my chaotic energy. “What?”
“Faith Taylor. The Faith Taylor emailed us and said she wanted to work on Aurora’s project with us.”
Bradford’s mouth hung open just like Aurora’s had done when we told her that morning. “Rachel, that’s fucking incredible.”
I beamed. “I know. We haven’t even done a hard launch of the company yet, and with her behind us this is going to be unstoppable.” I bounced on the couch and then grabbed the phone, pacing the living room, not able to stay still.
“I don’t know what to say. I’m so happy for you.”
“If it makes you feel better, I don’t know what to say either and I’ve known about this all morning.”
“We can celebrate when I get back this weekend. I’m so fucking proud of you.”
We stared at each other with goofy grins on our faces. This made me love Bradford so much more; he wasn’t sardonic or hid his feelings behind an asshole wall. He didn’t have a problem showing his pride.
“Yes, we will definitely be celebrating this weekend.”
“We’ll have two things to celebrate,” he said, still smiling.
“Did you get the promotion?” I asked, happy he’d finally be home and no longer traveling every week.
Bradford’s face fell and his smile disappeared. “I meant our engagement.”
My body flushed so hot it felt like someone had pushed hot magma through my veins.
I’m an asshole.
“Shit, Bradford, I’m stupid. I feel like we’ve been engaged longer than just a weekend, and we both knew we’d end up getting married. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it, Rach. I know you’re overwhelmed with everything and it’s not every day the Faith Taylor emails you.”
“You’re perfect, you know that? I cannot wait to be your wife.”
“You are the only one for me. I can’t wait to be your husband.” He yawned, snuggling deeper in his pillow.
“Are you tired?”
He nodded, his eyelids at half-mast.
“I’ll let you go.”
“No, I miss you. Can you just keep me on the phone?” His eyelids drooped even lower.
“I’m too amped up to sleep. Is it okay if I do work on my laptop?”
He nodded again, his mouth going slack. I grabbed my laptop and settled down in bed, working on Aurora’s project, tweaking things now that Faith was behind the brand.
A loud snore had me jumping, and I almost dumped my laptop on the floor.
Bradford was drooling on his pillow, his whole body slack, lost in his dreams. I watched him sleep for a minute before diving back into work, not remembering when I fell asleep.
My phone was off when I woke up that morning. Bradford no longer graced my screen. I stretched, almost knocking my laptop off the bed, forgetting it was even there.
My phone chimed while I was in the shower. After slathering myself in my favorite lotion, I checked my messages, seeing a text from Bradford.
I texted him back:
My smile was plastered on my face when I walked into the office, ready for another productive day. After waking up early and being so productive yesterday, I decided to try to do it again … just not so early.
Jules laughed at me when I told her what time I would be at the office. She wished me luck, telling me she’d be there at a decent normal person time and not serial killer time.
I had already gone through and answered my important emails when Jules walked into the office, handing me my obligatory energy drink, which oddly enough, I decided to only have one a day on weekdays now.
Stupid Mr. Easton.
“What’s that smile for?” I asked Jules, watching her getting her computer ready.
Jules hated the morning. I hadn’t seen her smile this early since college, and that was only because we hadn’t slept and were nearly delirious.
“What smile?” she answered shiftily.
I turned my head, reading my best friend’s weird behavior. “The one on your face. I know you have two sets of lips, but I can only see one.”
Jules rolled her eyes, her smile getting even bigger. “Well, the second set is smiling just as big if you must know.”
“I’ll take your word for it. The only time I need to see your second pair of lips is when you have a bump I need to check out.”
“I’d never had an ingrown hair there before. Please excuse me for panicking to my best friend.”
“I’m always here if you need a suspicious bump looked at.”
“And that is why I love you the most,” she replied.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re in such a good mood this early in the morning? Did you find another couple on your unicorn website?”
Jules watched me, nibbling on her lip to keep the smile at bay. This was one of Jules’ tells that she was keeping something from me.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel weird for getting on that website. I don’t and never will judge you.” I refused to make my best friend feel bad about her decisions. And who was I to judge anyone for their choices?
Thinking I’d made her keep things from me because she feared my reaction, my stomach churned. We’d always been open with each other about everything. Hell, we took pictures of our vaginas to show each other for medical purposes for fuck’s sake.
“Shut up, you dumb cow. I know you wouldn’t judge me. Stop being so fucking weird,” Jules huffed. “I’m trying something new and I don’t really have anything to say. It’s stupid, and I know it’s not going to work. Probably, not going to work,” she said in a wistful voice.
I eyed her, wishing I could pluck what she was thinking out of her pretty head.
“Stop, weirdo, you’re not going to pull it out of my head because there isn’t anything to pull out. I promise when I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Okay, fucking mind reader,” I muttered, going back to my laptop.
“Not a mind reader, just your best friend who knows you better than you know yourself.” She smirked, downing her energy drink.
That odd feeling in my stomach increased because up until this conversation I thought I knew her better than she knew herself as well. It seemed like my best friend was capable of keeping things from me and I fucking hated it.
“Do you want to do something tonight?” I asked when I was able to get my hurt feelings under control.
Jules blushed, glancing at her phone. “I have plans tonight.”
“Does this have anything to do with this mysterious something new?”
“It does. I promise, Rach, it isn’t anything. Please don’t think I’m hiding anything from you.”
I opened my mouth, wanting to tell her she was keeping something from me, but I refrained.
My eyes widened at the thought that struck me. “You’re not having more than threesomes, are you? Because the amount of legs in a foursome or more would be insane. How would you keep track?”
Jules burst out laughing. “Holy shit, you should see your face right now. No, silly, I promise to keep my sex partners to three or less at one time just so you can sleep at night knowing I won’t be crushed by an avalanche of legs.”
“You’re so kind.”
My computer pinged with an email, and I couldn’t contain the squeal if I wanted to.
“What is it?” Jules asked, running over to me.
“Faith wants to have a conference call to discuss us moving forward.”
We both screamed until we were hoarse before calling Aurora and screaming again, setting up a time to speak to Faith mother fucking Taylor.
“She was so amazing and her ideas were incredible,” I gushed while I finished making Bradford’s favorite meal.
He sat at my kitchen island as I recounted verbatim our conversation with Faith that morning. Aurora’s project was going to blow up, and Jules and I were going to be with her from the start.
Bradford frowned, staring down at his phone. Annoyance skittered up my spine and I tamped it down. I knew he was excited for me, but he’d been traveling a lot lately and was probably exhausted from his trip.
I plated the enchiladas and sat next to him. He lifted his fork to his mouth but set it down without taking a bite.
“Is everything all right?” I asked, taking a bite of my own food to make sure it tasted fine.
I rolled my eyes at the cheesy goodness. It definitely wasn’t the food.
“We need to break up.” The words pushed out of his mouth so fast it took me a moment to figure out what he’d said.
“Okay,” I answered him, laughing. “Stop, if you don’t want the enchiladas just tell me.” I shook my head while taking another bite.
“I’m serious, Rachel. I can’t do this anymore.”
The bite I’d just swallowed hit my stomach and wanted to make a return flight back out.
“What are you talking about?” I felt like slapping myself for the little hitch in my voice.
“I want to break up,” he said again, standing and pacing the kitchen.
“What the fuck, Bradford? You just proposed to me. Are you getting cold feet? We don’t have to get married right away.”
He laughed a low, ugly laugh that felt like I needed to wash it off me.
“I’m not getting cold feet, Rach. I realized I’ve never lived. We have been together since college.”
“Yes, I’m fully aware since I was the other half of this fucking relationship.” I pinched my leg under the kitchen island to bring me back to the present. I was not going to let him see how destroyed I was at his words. He didn’t deserve emotion from me.
He ran his hands through his blond hair, making it stand on end. I wanted to light it on fire.
“Traveling made me realize that I haven’t got to live yet.”
“Traveling to Ohio made you realize you haven’t lived?” I scoffed, wanting to make him feel small.
“Yes … I mean, no. I just mean we haven’t even seen what else is available. After I proposed I started thinking about how much we’ve done together. You are settled. You have your company, it’s not like we can do things together.”
“What the actual fuck, Bradford?”
“Rach, I want to live.”
“That’s funny because right now I kinda want you to die.”
Fuck, that was not calm. Keep it reined in, Rachel.
“That’s not fair.”
“Oh, are we talking fair now? Because having the man you’ve been with for years dump you after proposing doesn’t seem too fair.”
“I knew you wouldn’t understand. I need excitement, not a twenty-eight-year-old who has her life mapped out with her own company. Hell, Rach, you have Faith Taylor working with you. You’re never going to get out of here.”
“Well, guess what? You can get out of here. I’m so sorry I have my life settled and figured out.”
“Rach, don’t be like that.”
“Get out, Bradford.” I walked to the door and opened it as wide as I could, motioning for him to leave.
“Maybe after I’ve lived, I’ll feel more ready,” he said, like that would placate me.
Fuck.
Him.
“Please, do not do me any more favors. Now kindly get the fuck out of my sight.”
He grabbed his suitcase and rolled it past me. I refused to look at him. I refused to cry in front of him.
I watched out of my peephole while he waited outside on the sidewalk until his Uber picked him up. He kept looking back at my door, and I wondered if he thought I was going to beg him to take me back.
Actually, I didn’t know what the fuck he was thinking, because the man who just shattered my heart was not the man who’d proposed to me. Bradford had always been the perfect boyfriend. Jules used to joke that he was a serial killer.
Ugh, Jules is going to be pissed when I tell her. She’s who I need. She’s the one I want to fall apart in front of.
On shaky legs I walked to my phone and called Jules. My hands were shaking so bad that it took me three times to unlock my phone.
Her phone went straight to voicemail.
Fuck.
“Hey, uhm, can you give me a call when you get this? Love you.”
After hanging up on her voicemail, I ran to the bathroom and vomited until I was dry heaving. My body shook as my brain played Bradford’s breakup on an endless loop of misery.
Crawling into the shower, I sat on the floor, letting the hot water pound into my broken soul.
I sobbed onto my knees. I hadn’t noticed the water going cold until my teeth began to chatter.
With the last of my strength, I wrapped my freezing body in my old, tattered robe that Bradford always wanted to replace, but I stubbornly refused because it was one of the first things I’d bought for myself in college.
Then I collapsed on my bed. I clutched my phone against my chest after getting Jules’ voicemail again.
Great, her phone must be dead. Just like my soul.