13. Meghan
THIRTEEN
Meghan
A fter Cooper left, I laid in bed and cried myself back to sleep. Stupidly . Why am I crying over a man that has made no commitment to me and instead has told me things I was already telling myself?
It feels like my heart is being trampled on.
Why would he do this?
Why would he walk out like he did?
He fucking thanked me.
I just don’t understand. He’s the one that came after me.
Oh God, I hope he didn’t see my tears .
I don’t think he did since he barely looked at me as he dressed, but they definitely escaped while he was still in the room. I’m going to have to go to work knowing this man has been inside of me and that he’s just going to forget about it and move on.
Argh! Fuck him .
Fuck him for making me feel this way.
I call in sick the next day and wallow in my self pity. I’m a coward, but I couldn’t face him, not so soon after everything. I end up staying up late Friday night, drinking whiskey, ignoring my phone and eating junk food until I pass out, not waking up until late afternoon on Saturday.
Climbing out of bed, I make my way to the bathroom where I catch my reflection in the mirror. If I wasn’t so upset, I would laugh at what I see reflected back at me.
My complexion is pale and my hair looks like a contestant on Shear Genius has styled it. Red-ringed and puffy eyes look back at me and I wonder if it’s possible to cry in your sleep.
Averting my eyes from the horror show that is my reflection, I brush my teeth and rinse my face with cold water before making my way back to bed.
I love my bed. It’s large, fluffy like a cloud, and sits proudly with the headboard against the wall in the middle of the room.
When I moved in, I painted the walls an eggshell blue and then accessorized with a white chest of drawers against one wall and a white cushion-topped chest at the foot of the bed.
I’m just climbing back into my queen-size bed, pushing down the large puffy comforter, with a single solitary tear rolling down my cheek at my foolishness, when there’s a knock on my front door, which causes me to freeze.
Surely, he wouldn’t have come back .
I take a moment, convincing myself he wouldn’t be stupid enough to return, before climbing off of the bed and heading toward the front door, making sure to peek through the peephole.
I’m not making the mistake of opening the door without checking again.
My shoulders relax when I see that it’s Alex on the other side and I rest my forehead to the back of the door, contemplating my next move.
If I open the door, she’ll know something’s wrong–it wouldn’t take a genius to figure it out.
But I need my friend .
That fact wins out and I decide to open the door. As soon as I do, Alex lets out a loud gasp of surprise as her eyes settle on my disheveled appearance.
“What happened?” she demands and I can tell that she’s ready to fight whoever might have hurt me.
I go to open my mouth to speak, to explain, to say…
anything, but my eyes well with tears and I break down, letting out an ugly sob.
Pulling me into a tight hug, she leads me into the living room, kicking the door closed behind her.
Forcing me to release my hold on her, she sits me on the couch before taking a seat next to me, grabbing my hand and rubbing circles on my back, giving me the comfort I desperately need.
“Tell me what happened, babe.”
“I... Oh God, I don’t even know why I keep crying,” I murmur, angrily swiping at the tears tumbling down my cheeks. “I–I–I slept with… Cooper,” I say, hiccuping my way through the admission.
“Cooper?” She looks at me quizzically. Her eyes widen and her jaw goes slack as she realizes who I’m talking about. “Cooper, as in Cooper Jackson , your boss? Our boss?”
“Yes,” I whisper reluctantly, the shame of what I’ve done overwhelms me and I blink back tears that threaten to fall.
“Okay, let’s park that revelation for a moment. What did he do to make you cry?”
She continues to rub my back, but I drop my head, unable to look her in the eyes when it feels like such an overreaction. I’m definitely blaming being a Cancer for these emotions. That and my hurt feelings. I wish I didn’t feel this way.
Taking a deep breath in, I lift my head and because I’m going to own up to what I’ve done, I answer Alex.
“He came over last night… after I ran out on him because we had sex on the boardroom table. We ended up having sex again, and I fell asleep in his arms. I thought everything was… I didn’t think he’d try and leave while I was asleep.
I thought the fact that he came to my house meant we would…
I don’t know, try and move past the whole—” I wave my hand in the air, unsure how to label what we had.
“—thing. Maybe give dating a try, which, in hindsight, was foolish of me to think. He accidentally woke me when he was trying to leave and told me I was great, as usual, and then that we should stop before one of us forgets it’s just sex.
Then he left, like he hadn’t just sucker punched me, saying he’d see me the next day. ”
“And why did you run out on him?” she asks with no judgment in her tone .
“I’d just slept with my boss, Alex,” I exclaim. Even though Alex wouldn't ever judge me, I try desperately to justify my actions. “I was scared. I really like him, but he’s my boss. What will people think?”
“Oh, babe.” She pulls me in for a side hug before continuing.
“First of all, wow. Second of all, I don’t know why he ran out, but maybe this is, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, what you needed to get over him.
He’s not the Prince Charming you built him up to be in your mind,” she tries to reassure me.
I shake my head at my past self’s foolishness, admonishing myself for spending so much time fawning over a man that’s treated me like I’m nothing but some easy lay.
Leaning back on the couch, I bring my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them.
Alex sits back with me and rests her shoulder against mine, the connection letting me know she’s not going anywhere.
We sit in a comfortable silence for what feels like an hour but is probably more like fifteen minutes.
With my mind made up, I ask Alex, “Can you help me with something?”
“Anything for you.”
“So for a while I’ve been thinking about how I’d like to, maybe, switch up my wardrobe a bit.” I turn to face Alex and find her eyes on me. “I think I’m ready to get back to my old, confident self. Who I was in college. Can we go shopping? And maybe get my hair done? And nails?”
Alex lets out a chuckle as she throws her arm around my shoulder and pulls me in for a hug. “I thought you’d never ask.”
I need the confidence of the dress I wore to the Christmas party. Going shopping with Alex will guarantee that I come home with outfits that boost that dwindled confidence.
Standing from the couch, Alex turns to face me before holding out her hands and pulling me up, then pushing me in the direction of the bathroom.
With a pang of regret, I realize I can still smell him on me. Subconsciously, I think I still wanted a part of him on me—aside from the slight bruising on my neck and shoulder from the hickeys he gave me.
“You get in the shower and I’ll make us coffee.”
Following Alex’s demand, I walk into the bathroom and turn on the shower before stripping out of my PJs and throwing them in the laundry. I take a moment to check out my reflection.
I look like crap.
I’ve shied away from putting myself on display ever since I came to the realization that men will take advantage of you, but maybe it’s time to step into my villain era and be the bad bitch Alex is always telling me I am.
Turning away from the mirror, I step under the now warm spray of the shower, allowing the water to cover me before I squirt a generous amount of my favorite strawberries and cream body wash onto a loofah and scrub my body. I watch in fascination as the water carrying his scent flows down the drain.
If only I could wash away the memories this easily .
Finally clean, I step out of the shower and wrap my fluffiest towel around me before slathering on my lotion. When Alex knocks on the door, I’m feeling more human and less like a neurotic mess.
“Your coffee’s ready. Do you want it in there?” she calls through the door.
Taking one last look in the mirror, I call out, “No, I’m coming out now.”
Wrapping myself up in my robe, I walk toward the kitchen where I find Alex typing away on her phone. She hands me a mug of steaming coffee and I lean against the counter, patiently waiting for her to finish.
“Thank you for being here,” I say before taking a sip and looking down into my mug, hiding my face from her.
I feel ashamed of my actions, of sleeping with my boss and allowing him to mess with my emotions to such an extreme degree.
I know I shouldn’t feel ashamed; we’re both adults after all, but his rejection hurts.
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” she assures me, as she pulls me into a side hug. “Now, let’s get you dressed so we can get this show on the road. I’ve booked you in to see Maxine for a trim and blowout. We don’t need to do anything drastic with your gorgeous hair.”
Alex happily chatters as we go into my room and I dig out a pair of comfortable jeans and a warm sweater before getting dressed.
In the bathroom, I run a brush through my hair, smoothing out the tangles caused by Cooper’s fingers and sleep, before throwing it into a messy bun.
I perch my glasses on my nose, titling my head as I come to the realization that I hate that I use my glasses as a shield, as if they can provide me with some sort of protection. I should wear my contacts more often.
Starting today, I will be a brave, confident, take no shit woman. With one last look at my reflection and a nod to affirm my vow, I meet Alex in the hallway.
Grabbing my crossbody bag and throwing on my parka coat from the closet next to the front door, I pull on a comfortable pair of sneakers before opening the door, signaling for Alex to leave first.
We make our way down the stairs, stepping out onto the bustling street, and bundled in our coats, we walk the block and a half to Alex’s hair stylist.
Makeover, here I come .