Chapter 26 Cordelia – Excuse me?
Nothing in his life became him like leaving it.
Macbeth, William Shakespeare
Harrison had stopped being such a sad sack, but it was almost worse now that he wasn't with Emma.
He was always home, so I minimized my presence in the house even more.
I think my parents were sick of me, and Miranda's housemate Skye had actually asked me if I'd moved in.
I felt like a nomad, with no real place to call home.
Harrison had started to text, asking if I would be home for dinner, like we were a couple or something.
I completely ignored him. After his third text in about two hours, I decided to put him out of his misery and sent him a single image.
The stupid asshole messaged me again, so I sent him another meme with the caption, “Are you still here?”
Did he really think I'd have dinner with him?
We put the 'fuck no' in dysfunctional and we hadn't been on good terms since the night he fucked a teenager in my house.
I'd asked Miranda to maybe ease up on the pranks.
He was obviously unraveling, but I was becoming concerned about his mental health.
I didn't need that on my conscience. He had to break but not break too much.
On one of my “assert my legal rights” visits to my home, Harrison asked me if I would ever consider trying “us” again.
I was very clear that in no reality would we ever be together.
I told him it was offensive that he'd even ask that.
About 10 seconds after I said that, the asshole downloaded Tinder right in front of me.
He was seriously spiraling. This wasn't the Harrison I had known and fallen in love with.
Peggy and Reg were furious about Harrison confronting them.
I was expecting some kind of subcommittee proposal about temper control any day.
Miranda had learned about his underwear incident from Peggy a day after it happened, so she'd decided to push the envelope with a little fraudulent Neighborhood Watch action.
Peggy liked Miranda because my devious sister had made it a mission to become besties with her.
I was concerned she was taking it too far, but Harrison did deserve it.
He was arrogant, entitled, and heartless.
He'd fucked another woman under my roof, on my bed for two weeks.
Who knew if he would have told me if I hadn't caught him.
And he was so close to ending this ridiculous war; I could feel it.
One Friday night, I was chilling out with Damon on the back patio enjoying the warm weather. Harrison poked his head out and informed me he was going on a date. Whatever. Like I gave a shit.
“I'm not your mother. I don't care,” I said.
He was back an hour later, so obviously that had bombed, or he was a minute man.
Miranda and Cam dropped in later and gave him shit.
Why was he hanging out with us? Well, I wouldn't really call it hanging out.
He kind of moped around in the background, not speaking to us.
He seemed lonely, like he wanted to be around other humans even if they hated him.
I glanced at him. No wonder his date hadn't shown up.
She probably saw him through the window and left.
He was wearing a leather jacket and ridiculously tight leather pants.
“What happened Kenickie? Were you stood up?” Miranda taunted, noting the leather.
“No, she just wasn’t my type.” He slipped out of the room, declaring that he was going to bed. When would he get that nobody in this house cared what he did?
“Shame he was stood up,” Miranda commented, absently flicking through her phone. She knew something.
“What did you do, Randa?” Cam asked.
“Nothing. You're always so suspicious, Cam! ... Okay, so I may have created some profiles and catfished him using women who were well out of his league. Then I may have set up a date and let him sit there alone.”
“Miranda, I told you he's unraveling,” I chided.
“Well, he's fucking stupid. I used pictures of Gal Gadot and Megan Fox. Gal Gadot was dressed as Wonder Woman for God's sake. And the Megan pics were badly cropped screenshots of IMDb. Does he live under a rock? He makes it so easy it's not even fun anymore,” she mused. “I'm starting to get bored.”
I had to hand it to Miranda; her Tinder ploy finally broke him. The next morning, while Damon was snoozing in my bed, he approached me as I sat with my coffee on the back patio.
“Cordelia, can I please speak with you?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I want this to end. I love this house, but all the neighbors hate me .
.. and well, I think I just need a fresh start.
I fucked up my life, and I don't even know why.
I'm sorry. I know I hurt you and you'll never take me back.
And boy, have I paid for this over and over.
I want to leave, and all I ask is what you put in at the start.
Fifteen thousand. You'll have to take over the repayments, though. I'm not paying anything else.”
“Ten thousand,” I said flatly without blinking.
“Deal,” he responded, slumping his shoulders in defeat.
“Okay.” I was brimming with excitement but determined to stay calm. He was taking a real hit with this. A hit he deserved. Dad had offered me the money, and Miranda said her landlord was going to evict her so his daughter could move in, so her and her housemate Skye had nowhere to go.
“Okay,” he said uncertainly. “I'll move out on the weekend. There're a few rentals available that I can move straight into. And Cordy, I am sorry. You like him, don't you?”
“Yes, I do.”
He did look sorry. I was sorry too. Sorry that I'd moved in with this asshole. Sorry that I'd put my heart on the line for a cheating pig. But I had my house. I had my thriving new vegetable garden. I had a wonderful family, a great job, and a very sexy neighbor.