Chapter 34
Karen Knows Best
Sitting on my couch in three-day-old yoga pants and a shirt that had seen better decades, I wielded a remote control in one hand and a pint of salted caramel ice cream that was quickly becoming my dinner, breakfast, and life coach all rolled into one.
It was Wednesday night wrestling. For the past few months, if I wasn't at the arena pretending to understand the difference between a bodyslam and a powerbomb, I was here, on my couch, cheering Matt on while secretly googling wrestling terms so I don't sound like an idiot.
Karen, my unofficial life advisor, sat perched on the coffee table like a furry little therapist, staring at me with the kind of disapproval usually reserved for people who put pineapple on pizza.
"Stop judging me," I muttered, waving my spoon at her. "I actually like wrestling."
Karen's meow sounded suspiciously like "Yeah, right, lady."
I slumped deeper into the couch cushions. "Okay, fine. I don't like wrestling. I like watching Matt be all, sweaty and muscular and..." I gestured vaguely at the blank TV screen. "But the actual wrestling part? I still don't understand why they're always throwing chairs around."
Karen meowed again, rolling her eyes.
"I should just call him, right?" I asked, taking another mountainous spoonful of ice cream. "I mean, what's the worst that could happen? Oh, wait, I remember, complete and utter humiliation followed by eating ice cream for dinner every night until I become one with this couch."
I tapped my spoon against the container like a tiny drum of anxiety. "But I'm being stupid, aren't I? Sitting here having a therapy session with my cat when I could just…"
Karen stood up, turned around, and presented me with a perfect view of her butthole.
"Wow. Thanks for that insightful advice, Karen. Really helpful."
A double knock echoed from my front door. My heart did a little hopeful tap dance. Maybe it was Matt! But it was probably Davina.
I practically launched myself off the couch, abandoning my ice cream and dignity in equal measure. I yanked the door open with what I hoped was an alluring smile and not the face of someone who'd been talking to their cat for twenty minutes.
"Hey, cupcake."
My smile died faster than a phone battery at 1%. It was Chris holding a bouquet of red roses that looked like he'd grabbed them from a gas station.
"Eww, gross, no." I physically recoiled.
Cupcake was what he'd called me when we first met, which quickly changed back to Brooke after we moved in together.
"Do not call me that. Ever. It makes me want to throw up in my mouth.
" I leaned out into the hallway, checking both directions.
"What are you doing here? Seriously, who let you into the building? "
"I miss you."
"Double eww with a side of absolutely not." I made a face like I'd tasted something that had gone bad in 1999. "Look, Chris, I really don't want to do this interpretive dance of awkwardness with you today."
I started to close the door, but he wedged his shiny black loafer in the doorway.
"Oh, come ON!" I threw my hands up.
"What else could you possibly have to say? Let me guess… you've suddenly discovered you have feelings? Or no, wait. You need more help making partner?" I put air quotes around everything.
"I'm sorry." His face scrunched up like he'd tasted something sour. "I know you don't believe me, but I really do miss you."
I crossed my arms over my ratty shirt. "Let me guess, the dating world sucked for you?"
"Well," he shrugged. "I mean, I don't know. Everything in my life has gone to shit since you left."
I refrained from rolling my eyes. I had my own problems, and I didn't have time for his, too.
"And I heard that you and The Mountain split…"
"Wait," I cut him off, holding my hand out like I was going to physically stop his next words. "Where did you hear that?"
"It's all over the internet."
My stomach dropped. "What did it say? Exactly. Word for word. Don't paraphrase."
He looked at me like I'd asked him to solve quantum physics. "I don't know. It said you split, and The Mountain was single again, which meant you were single again."
He stepped closer, and I stepped back in what was probably the world's most awkward tango.
"I think…"
Karen appeared between my legs like a furry little ninja, nearly tripping me before hissing at Chris and taking a swipe at his expensive shoes. Then she strutted away like she'd just delivered the most devastating insult in cat history.
"I see you still have Karen," Chris said, eyeing the scratch marks on his loafer.
"Look, Chris, I think there's been some sort of massive, cosmic misunderstanding here."
His eyebrows shot up. "Misunderstanding?"
"Yeah." I forced a smile so fake it could have been made of plastic. "Chris, we are done. Like, done-done. Like, if you were the last man on Earth and I was the last woman, humanity would just have to accept extinction."
His smile faded faster than his chance of getting back together with me.
"Brooke…"
"No, Chris. We are done. I need you to put on your big boy panties, hell, put on your big boy everything, and accept that this ship has sailed, crashed into an iceberg, and is now resting peacefully on the ocean floor."
I patted his shoulder like he was a confused puppy. "But right now, I need you to exit my apartment. Stage left. Don't let the door hit you on the way out."
"Your dad fired me," he blurted out like he was confessing to a crime. "He told me I wasn't a good fit for the company anymore."
I rolled my eyes so hard I probably strained something. "Chris, I wish I could help you, but I've cut ties with my father."
His eyebrows practically disappeared into his hairline. "You did?"
"Yep. After Matt almost turned our dinner table into a wrestling ring, I realized I was done subjecting myself to family dinners that ended up making me feel even worse about myself." I gave myself a mental head slap and flinched slightly. He didn't need to know all that.
We stood silently for a long moment as his expression shifted from shock to impressed. "It's about time," he said with what might have been his first genuine smile in years. "I never understood how you could stand the way he talked to you. I should have stood up for you."
"Water under the bridge." I was surprised by how little I cared about his belated realization. "Maybe getting fired is the universe doing you a favor. You always wanted to start your own firm. Maybe now's your chance to stop talking about it and do it."
He stared at me for a long moment, and I could practically see the lightbulb flickering on above his head.
"You're right." He tried to shove the sad gas station flowers into my arms. "Thanks."
"Nope, no thank you." I shoved them back, along with him, toward the door. "Good luck, Chris. May the odds be in your favor."
"I know it's none of my business, but…"
"You're absolutely right." I flashed a blindingly fake smile. "It's not."
He nodded, looking like he'd finally gotten a clue. "I was wrong about everything. I never should have agreed to your dad's deal, and I shouldn't have misled you. I never should have assumed that the dating world would be harder for you than it is for me."
"Dating sucks for everyone equally," I said philosophically. "It's like taxes but with more awkward small talk."
"You met someone pretty fast, though. Someone who's really into you." I couldn't help but smile at that, even with everything going on between Matt and me. "I mean, he did try to kill me at the gym."
"What?"
His face went through several expressions before settling on guilt. "I guess I should also apologize for your café."
Every warm feeling I'd had evaporated instantly. "You?"
"I was angry and I…"
"What the actual fuck, Chris?"
"I know, I know." He sighed, as if he were the victim here. "I'm sorry. I'll pay you back for everything. Just send me a bill."
"He knew it was you." The pieces were clicking together like a very messed-up puzzle.
"He cornered me at the gym and threatened my life. He also thanked me for being stupid enough to let you go."
I stood there, mouth slightly open, processing the fact that my ex had destroyed my café and that Matt had gone full protective hero mode about it.
"Maybe we can be friends?" Chris suggested hopefully.
I looked at him like he'd suggested we take up synchronized swimming. "No. Friends don't get angry and destroy someone's business. That's more like 'sworn enemies' behavior."
"I know, but that was before…"
"No, Chris." I used the door like a shield, pushing him back into the hallway. "I wish you the best of luck in all your future endeavors, and I will absolutely send you a bill that will make your credit card weep, but other than that, I don't want to ever see you again."
"Probably for the best," he called through the crack just before I slammed the door shut with the satisfaction of someone who'd just won an argument with customer service.
I leaned against the closed door, staring at nothing and feeling like I'd finally closed one chapter of my life while another one was waiting to be written. Karen appeared and rubbed against my legs, purring.
I opened my mouth to thank Karen for her moral support when another double knock echoed through the apartment, causing me to groan with the intensity of someone whose favorite TV show had just been cancelled.
Maybe if I stood perfectly still and didn't breathe, he'd assume I'd moved to another country.
Another knock, this one more insistent.
"Oh, for the love of…"
I spun around and yanked the door open, fully prepared to deliver a speech about harassment and the virtues of accepting rejection, but instead of Chris, I found Davina standing in my doorway with a grin that could only mean trouble.
"What was Chris doing here?" She jerked her head toward the elevators.
"Attempting to repent for his many sins," I said with enough sarcasm to power a small generator. "What brings you to my humble hermit cave?"
"Get dressed," she announced with the authority of someone who'd already made all the decisions. "We're going out."
I shook my head. I already planned an evening of ice cream and self-pity. "Absolutely not."
"Yes."
"Nope."
"Brooke…"
"Davina."
She blew out an exaggerated sigh that could have inflated a balloon. "Brooke, you cannot spend the rest of your natural life hiding in this apartment wearing clothes that should have seen a landfill two years ago."
I rolled my eyes. "I'm not hiding from life. I went to work today. I interacted with other human beings. I made coffee drinks and everything."
She grabbed my shoulders and spun me around before marching me toward my bedroom like a woman on a mission. "And tonight, you're going to continue that streak of human interaction at the bar with Kali and me."
I groaned dramatically. "Fine. But I'm not promising to be fun."
"I knew you'd see reason eventually." She gave me a gentle but determined push toward my closet. "Now go put on something that doesn't look like it survived the apocalypse."