40. Indy
FORTY
INDY
I slam the apartment door shut behind me with so much force that the thump echoes all through the apartment.
You need to quit. Tonight. I’m serious.
He has no right to tell me what to do.
Six years.
Six years of silence, and somehow the universe decided the appropriate reunion is shoving him in my face in the subway.
Yeah, okay, fine, it was me who cornered him in front of his building after a moment of irresistible temptation.
It’s really you.
After all these years.
I throw my keys onto the counter with much more force than necessary. They skid across the surface and clatter to the floor. I don’t bother to pick them up.
Great.
Just perfect.
Of course he’s in Boston. I mean, why not?
Of course the guy who broke me into pieces at nineteen gets to stroll back into my life and fuck me up once more.
Of course he was looking at me like I’d left muddy footprints all over his otherwise perfect life.
And it shouldn’t bother me. After all these years, it just shouldn’t.
But it does.
Because seeing him reminded me so clearly that there was a time when he looked at me differently. When he looked at me like I was the missing piece. Something precious. Something worth loving.
Now there’s nothing.
Less than nothing.
Scratch that. It’s worse than nothing.
Now there’s regret.
Like loving me was the worst mistake he ever made.
Something hot stabs into my chest, gets stuck there, and twists.
I crouch, back against the door, and grit my teeth.
I take a deep breath.
Chin up.
It’s the mantra that has kept me going so far.
It sure as fuck better work this time, too.
The time to give up was six years ago. I didn’t.
I kept my chin up with every scrap of will I had left in me.
By now I have a streak of hanging in there going, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to ruin it for him.
Chin up, Indy.
Nicholas Hayes can go fuck himself.
I get back up and square my shoulders.
Boston isn’t the biggest city. It’s not New York or LA or Chicago. But it’s definitely big enough to avoid running into him again. I know where he lives, so I’ll avoid the neighborhood from now on. Easy.
You need to quit. I’m serious.
I clench my teeth at his voice in my head.
He can go fuck himself if he thinks he has any right to tell me what to do.
Now I’m serious.