36
Sasha
Conor told me he loved me. He said the three words with so much emotion and so much conviction and it broke my heart in two.
And it wasn’t until then that I realized the truth. I love him too.
I should have told him. God, I wanted to tell him. But if I’d said it, if I admitted how I really felt, I don’t think I would have been able to let him leave. I would have begged him to stay, and then I’d be asking him to wait for someone who isn’t ready. That isn’t fair to him.
So I let him go. And it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I just wish he would have let me explain.
I don’t know why I told him everything between us was all fake. I don’t know why I couldn’t admit to him that this was the most real thing I have ever experienced. And now I’ve thrown it all away. I hurt him, and I hate myself for that.
Maybe I should call him, tell him that I do love him, tell him that this isn’t about not wanting him, but that it’s about needing to find myself before I can be with him. But what if that makes it harder? What if that hurts him more?
No.
I have to do what I should have done months ago. I have to fix my life. The sooner I can do that, the sooner I can go back to him. Would he even take me back?
The look on his face when I told him none of this was real will be seared into my brain for life. Every time that look flashes into my head, my chest aches all over again. I wouldn’t blame him if he never wanted to see me again. I created this mess and now I have to live with that.
I’ve been laying in bed for two days, crying whenever my brain gives itself five seconds of silence. But now I need to get up. It’s time to get my shit together.
At least that confrontation with Max is over. I didn’t realize how much weight was laying on my chest until I told him exactly how I felt. The shackles around my ankles feel a little less constricting now and I think it was one step closer to finally healing. I can check that off my list.
Next, work. I have enough money in my savings that I could live comfortably for a few months.
Do I risk quitting my job now? The question has been bouncing around in my head for weeks now and still, I have no idea.
What if my book is shit and doesn’t sell?
I’ll be left with no money and no job. But working at that God awful law firm leaves me feeling a little less alive every time I leave at the end of the day and I don’t even have the energy to do anything else. Damn it! I’ll come back to that one.
No impulse decisions allowed!
The next item on the list is easier. It’s time to cut every remaining tie to the life I had with Max. I honestly don’t think any of them would notice. They were more friends of Max’s than my own. How sad is that?
The only ones I really need to contact are Alex and Rose, but that’s only because I got their wedding invitation in the mail a few weeks ago and it has been sitting on my kitchen counter ever since.
I can’t just ignore it. I need to let them know that I won’t be there.
Do I need to give a reason? What would I even say?
Hey, I’m so sorry but I won’t be able to make it to your wedding because you’re both dicks. Hope you have a good day!
I don’t think that’ll cut it. I bring up Rose’s contact on my phone and type out a message.
Me: Hey Rose. I just wanted to let you
know that I won’t be able to attend
your wedding.
Me: I hope you and Alex have a
lovely day and have the best life together!
They won’t last five years and I can bet my right tit on that.
Three dots appear on my screen. Disappear.
Appear again. Disappear. They flash for a few minutes before disappearing completely.
Thirty minutes pass and still nothing. At least now I know that our friendship never really meant anything to her. Whatever. Block.
Holy shit. I’m feeling lighter by the second. I’m gonna be floating when I check all these items off my list.
I had turned my phone off, focusing all my attention on my writing. If I want to get this done, I need no interruptions and if my phone is sitting in front of me, all I will want to do is grab it and doom scroll.
Now though, I have written everything that I can for today and can happily doom scroll without feeling an ounce of guilt.
I heat up some leftover chorizo pasta from yesterday and settle onto the couch, turning my phone back on.
When my screen comes to life, so does all the notifications I had missed since this afternoon.
My phone won’t stop buzzing and the need to turn it off again is strong but Olivia’s name flashing up on my screen over and over again makes me pause.
Panic floods me when I see over fifty missed calls and texts from her and Josh. Dinner forgotten, I call her back.
My heart races to dangerous levels as I wait for her to answer. Has something happened to her? To Josh? Is Isabella okay? What if it’s Conor? Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Hey, babe.” Olivia chirps down the phone when she finally answers. “What’s up?”
“What do you mean ‘what’s up’?” My voice pitching to levels I didn’t know it could reach. “You were calling and texting a million times. I thought someone had died!”
Olivia laughs down the phone and I have never wanted to reach into it and strangle someone so much in my life. “No, no. I was just letting you know that we’re going out for drinks since the guys won tonight. I think you should come.”
“So everyone is still alive?”
“Yes.”
“No one’s in hospital?”
“Nope.”
“I almost had a heart attack, woman!”
“Worth it.”
I groan, flopping back down onto the couch. “You’re the worst.”
“I know.” Despite myself, I smile. “So what do you say?”
As pissed as I am, that does sound kinda fun. A night out with my friends… Maybe that’s exactly what I need. A distraction. A few drinks. Something normal. “Yeah, okay.”
“What?” Olivia screeches, “I thought I’d have to bribe you.”
“I know. It’s shocking.” I stretch, arching my back. “But I have worked my ass off today and I need to let off some steam.” And then a thought slams into me. “Will he be there?”
There’s a small pause before Olivia speaks again. “No. He’s just heading home.” With someone? God, Sash, don’t be ridiculous. Relief and disappointment hit me at the same time. “I’ll be at your place in an hour.”
True to her word, Olivia gets to my apartment exactly fifty-nine minutes after we went off the phone. I was able to finish my dinner and get ready before she even got here. I think that’s a personal best.
I’m wearing a pair of black denim jeans with my black cowboy boots.
I was going to put on my Flames jersey but I couldn’t wear Conor’s name because that would just be weird now, and I couldn’t wear anyone else’s because that would be so disrespectful to Conor.
Instead, I opted for a red top with spaghetti straps that hangs low enough to show off the perfect amount of cleavage.
Plus, it’s in the team colors so it’s a win-win.
“You look hot as fuck.” Olivia whistles the second I open the door.
I laugh. “Me? Look at you!” She’s gorgeous, wearing Josh’s jersey as a dress because he’s such a mountain of a man, paired with knee high, black boots.
We walk to the bar since it’s close to both of our apartments. Josh is with us too, keeping us safe from all the ‘playboys and thugs’ as he put it. He’s acting like our own personal bodyguard, glaring and growling at any man who passes by whether he looks in our direction or not.
The early December air is cool against my bare skin, but that is forgotten when we step into the heat of the bar. The space is already buzzing. Music pounds through the speakers. People are dancing. The whole place is electric after the win. This is exactly what I needed.
The three of us move through the throng of people, stopping at the bar to grab some drinks before we find a booth to sit in.
The last time I was here was the night Liam got here.
It was the night Conor asked to kiss me.
I think it was the night that truly started all of this.
I shake my head to rid myself of those thoughts.
I’m not here to dwell on the past. I’m here to forget it.
My eyes wander around the room. Players and their partners sit off to the side, some of them up dancing. Regulars that I’ve seen every time I’ve been in here sit in their usual spots with glazed eyes. Sometimes I wonder if those people ever leave this place.
As the song ends, most of the people on the dance floor scatter around the room. I smile at people as they walk past, congratulating the players on their amazing win, even though I didn’t see it. They don’t need to know that.
My gaze moves around the room again and then… everything stops. My stomach drops, my knees feel weak. I grip the edge of the bar stool I’m sitting on, needing anything I can hold onto for support.
“Sash?” Olivia’s voice sounds so far away. “What’s wrong?” She rests a hand on my trembling arm, squeezing tight.
“You said he wouldn’t be here.” I whisper.
I feel like I can’t breathe all of a sudden.
My lungs are tight and my head feels dizzy.
Tears slip past my lashes as I take him in.
He’s laughing. A brunette is perched on his lap.
His good arm is wrapped loosely around her waist while she leans into him, whispering something in his ear.
He laughs again. The same laugh. The same smile. The same look he used to give me.
“I need to go.”
The barstool screeches backwards and almost topples to the ground from the force of me standing but Josh catches it just in time. I need to get out of here. I need air.
“Sasha, wait!” Olivia calls from behind me but the sound is muffled.
“I can’t…” My voice cracks. “I can’t be here.”
“Let us walk you home.” Josh offers but I refuse. I need to be alone.
I don’t wait for another word. I run, sprinting back to my apartment with tears streaming down my face.
Thick raindrops start falling from the sky as my lungs burn. It doesn’t rain much here this time of year, but of course the heavens decide to open now. The thunderous clouds and heavy water droplets matching my mood.
I get home quicker than I thought I would, but all of it’s a blur. I shouldn’t be this upset. Conor is single. I made him that way. This is all my fault. It’s karma coming to kick me in the ass.
There’s a voice screaming at me from inside my head saying, Max was right. “No…”
Is there something wrong with me? Am I really that disposable and unforgettable?
Forty-eight hours later and Conor has already bagged himself some random woman to take home.
Did he even wait that long? Maybe that’s where he went after he left my apartment, finally free to start fucking any woman that shows him a little bit of attention, just like he did before.
This is why I have to be on my own right now. Men make trusting them impossible.
I just really thought Conor would be different.