1. Eve #2
If that meant being alone forever, so be it. Anything is better than spending one more minute with a guy like Miles.
Of course I want to find love, but it’s not here with these happy couples and cheering drunks. I’ve never felt more alone in a room full of people.
Miles glances down at his phone again, and that’s my final straw. It’s time to get the fuck out of here. Now.
Rising on trembling legs, I fish a fifty-dollar bill out of my purse. I slap it onto the table and take my first deep breath since I stepped inside.
“This isn’t going to work.”
Miles hardly glances up from his money line as I thread between the thicket of bar patrons by the door. I don’t stop. Not even when the cold November air rips across my cheeks.
I breathe in the scent of cigarettes and motor oil. The sidewalks are crowded with more throngs of happy people. I can’t stand the sight of them.
The train sign glows in the distance, and I set off for it.
I pull out my phone to unmatch Miles and block his number. I doubt he’ll even try to reach out to me. He’s no doubt already texting his friends to meet him so he can tell them all about the insane girl he went on a date with.
Trudging down the train platform, I lean against a pillar, grateful the stop isn’t busy. The damp scent of being underground settles the fraying edges of my nerves. As I wait for the train, I can’t help but wonder how I ended up here.
Was I really too picky like all my friends said? Was it my parents' fault that I became hyper-independent so young and expected more than any normal person could give? I wish I had friends close by to turn to, but they’re all enjoying marital bliss.
Some of them are happy, or happy enough. For now. At least they had someone while I was alone and stuck.
The platform vibrates as the swirling wind kicks up, disturbing the litter hiding beneath the worn wooden benches.
Rattling to a halt, I wait for the doors to slide open, then step into the warm car.
I take a seat near the back and survey the others on the train, wondering if they're returning home to someone special.
God, I sound pathetic.
It’s hard to feel like I’m not behind when so many of my friends are celebrating milestones.
At twenty-seven, I know I’m not old. I have plenty of time to make something of my life and to find the perfect person to settle down with.
But being the only single friend, the one who never gets a plus-one to any wedding, is isolating.
In these dark, insecure moments, I do wonder if my standards are too high. The man of my dreams might not exist. Perhaps he’s living in another world far from me. A world I should’ve been born into, but something went wrong. I was trapped on Earth and would die alone because of it.
Being so near starvation has clearly warped my brain.
My phone chirps, and I pull it from my purse. Jen. The name blazes on the screen as I tap her message. Our texts are sporadic, but I had mentioned meeting up with Miles to her early in the week.
How was your date?
I huff through my nose before typing out my reply.
Awful.
Oh, no. Why?
There was only one meatball.
What?
Nvm. My quest for love continues.
Three dots appear as if she’s typing, then disappear. It occurs five times before a large grey text block appears. Groaning, I fall back against the train seat.
Look, Eve, I know you hate when I do this, but hear me out.
These dates aren’t working. Maybe it’s the guys out there, maybe it’s Chicago.
Maybe it’s something else. All I’m saying is, it might be worth taking a break.
I know you’ve been stressed at work, so why don’t you take a look at this?
Harry’s cousin did one of these, and he and Melissa are one of the happiest couples I know. Think about it, okay?
Beneath the message is a link. A large white cruise ship overlays a pulsing red heart. I tap it and read the sleek website.
Love on the High Seas promises love and a tan in one.
A singles cruise that takes you throughout the tropics, it's specifically designed to feel like a vacation and the beginning of your happily ever after.
Their tagline also mentions a ninety-seven-percent rate for couples who meet on board and stay together for at least two years.
Tapping on more information, a list of included perks glows from my phone screen.
A week aboard their modern vessel includes luxurious staterooms and personalized dates designed by their certified matchmakers.
I can enjoy getting to know the men they believe I’m most compatible with by the pool or at their variety of dining establishments.
I could be snorkeling with my future husband by day three.
It sounds too good to be true.
It likely is too good to be true, but Jen is right. I needed a vacation. But a singles cruise? I wasn’t seriously considering it, was I? Tapping through the photos, the glossy deck and sprawling pool look inviting. As does the expansive spa. It had been a while since I took a real trip.
I clearly wasn’t the best at choosing dates. Maybe it was time I enlisted a matchmaker. And if I could get a tan while doing it…
Hovering my thumb over the link for departure dates, I take a deep breath as the train rumbles beneath me.
What’s the worst that could happen?