Chapter 11
Chapter eleven
On The Road Again
The night was magnificent. Manny and I smoked hookah, ordered pizza, cuddled, and argued about our favorite books until we fell asleep in each other's arms. And then the sun rose, reality came crashing in, and so did the voices.
I wanted to believe him, I wanted to believe every word he said last night, but I knew they were just small promises, the ones people make at the start of a relationship before they get to know me, before it all falls apart.
So I did the cowardly thing. I snuck out, before he could wake up, before he could convince me to stay again.
“Where’s your boy toy?” V asks, as if she could be any more cruel in her words.
“It…didn’t work out,” I lie.
“He was nice,” Gabby assures me as they load our little luggage into the trunk, ready to leave this tourist trap of a city behind, finally. “Maybe you’ll see him again.”
“Maybe,” I mutter, the tightness in my chest crescendoing as I worry he’s going to appear from around a corner and undo my escape any moment.
“Well, let’s get going. We got a plane to catch,” V says, shutting the trunk lid.
The drive back on I-4 is exactly as miserable as any drive on any interstate, but it’s made all the worse when every sign and landmark makes me wonder if I’m getting that much further away from the life I actually wanted.
“Alright, Gloomy Gus,” V huffs as she kicks the back of my seat. “Out with it. You’ve been sulking for twenty exits. What did this guy do? Do I need to go back there and have second dinner?”
“V, stop it,” Gabby interjects. “If she wants to talk, she’ll tell us.”
“No, it’s okay,” I manage, heat building behind my eyes. “I think it just wouldn’t last. He’s got his life, I got mine.”
“Some life,” V mutters.
“Hey!” Gabby says, elbowing V in the ribs. “She didn’t mean it.”
Somehow, this old, cruel pattern feels good, not in a pleasant way, but in a familiar, nostalgic way. I know its ebbs and flows, I know what to expect. Maybe I won’t get as many highs, but at least I know I can manage the lows.
“I’m just saying, you’re better off without him,” V continues. “Take some time, clear your head, figure things out.”
Gabby goes to say something, but I cut her off. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I was rushing into things too fast. Like with Chad. Maybe I’m not cut out for real love.”
I try to hide the single tear that finally looses, scrambling to play something on the radio.
I don’t find anything. Instead, the rest of the drive is quiet, an awkward, resigned procession all the way to the Tampa airport.
Even when we arrive five hours early for their flight, nothing about the mood feels worth prolonging our goodbyes.
“You’re not a burden, or a bad guy, or any of those things,” Gabby whispers as she pulls me into a tight hug. “We just miss you, is all.”
“Thanks,” I reply. “Maybe I’ll be back sooner than you think.”
I turn to V, who’s been wearing a stern grimace for the last half hour of the car ride. “I am going to miss you.”
“Yeah, I know,” she says in her usual curt way. She pulls me into a tight hug. “And you deserve to be happy, even if it’s not with us.”
She squeezes me tight, then pulls away, grabbing Gabby’s hand. “Come on, Gabs, we've got a flight to catch.”
I linger there, V’s words echoing in my head, trying to make sense of them.
She’s always had her own way of showing she cares, but that was the most direct, selfless thing I think I heard from her all weekend, to the point I’m not even sure I heard it at all.
Still, the moment they are out of eyeshot, reality sets in.
I’m still alone, going back to an empty apartment, aimless.
Somehow, even getting a cat seems too cruel, for the cat at least.
But it was my choice to leave Manny. This was what I decided, this is what I deserve.