Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
I shrug. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I know, but—”
My ringing cell phone cuts her off. A tiny pang of hope tugs at my insides, but I will it away. It won’t be Ben. I asked him to leave. He hasn’t called since and he won’t call now.
A quick glance at the screen tells me I’m right. The caller is Tony, of all people.
I furrow my brow and answer the call, mostly out of curiosity. I haven’t heard from Tony since he left that message apologizing for the hotel room mix-up. “Hey, Tony,” I greet him.
“Maggie! I’ve got good news, babe. I’ll be in the city tomorrow night.”
He’ll be in the city? I almost laugh out loud, realizing how things have changed so dramatically since the last time I spoke to—or thought about—Tony. A few weeks ago, I would’ve jumped up and down with excitement at the sound of his voice, at the idea of meeting up and going to bed with him. Now, it’s the last thing I want. How can I just forget everything that happened and go back to the way I was in the pre-Ben days? How can I ever settle for casual sex when I experienced something deeper?
“That’s great,” I answer, my tone hardly enthusiastic.
“Don’t sound so thrilled about it,” he teases.
“I’m sorry. I just…I’ve met someone.” Next to me, Summer’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline.
There’s a brief silence. “You’re kidding me,” Tony finally says, chuckling softly.
I bristle. “It’s not funny.”
“I’m not making fun of you, babe. I’m just amazed. What happened to the Maggie I meet three times a year?”
“Two times,” I correct.
“Is it serious?” Tony asks.
I draw in a breath. “Yeah. I think so. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, don’t apologize. We had a good run, right?”
“It was great,” I say, and I mean it. My casual trysts with Tony were great. But I don’t want great anymore. I want incredible. I want body-numbing. Toe-curling. Heart-thumping.
I want Ben.
As my eyes well up with unwelcome tears, I utter a quick goodbye and hang up, swiping at my damp lashes with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. Damn it. I’m sick of crying.
“This is why I never wanted anything serious,” I complain. “Feeling miserable sucks.” I run my hands through my messy hair and release a groan.
Summer stares at me. “You’re a different person. How the hell did this happen?”
I manage a faint smile. “I’m still the same person.”
“I’m serious, Mags. You just broke it off with Tony. Tony, for God’s sake! The guy you can’t wait to see each time he comes to visit.”
“I guess Two-Time Tony isn’t enough anymore,” I admit. “Ben…well, he made me realize something. I…don’t want to be alone.” Saying those words out loud is difficult. But cathartic, too, because they’re undeniably true. The past few days without Ben have been horrible. Miserable and horrible and excruciatingly lonely.
The loneliness is what finally got to me. For so long I’ve worked my ass off to make something of myself. I wanted my life to mean something, I wanted to matter, if only to the kids I worked with, and that’s what drove me. Saving money, getting a college degree, finding a meaningful job. But what happens afterwards? What happens when I go home at night—alone? When I wake up every morning—alone? When the only person I’m able to share my dreams, thoughts and feelings with is a roommate who’ll soon be building her own life with the man she loves?
I’ll have a career, I’ll spend my afternoons doing something meaningful, but what’s the point if I don’t have anyone to share it with?
“I miss him,” I bleakly tell Summer. “I miss talking to him and joking around with him. I miss kissing him. Hell, I even miss listening to him sing along to the Beach Boys.”
A knowing smile curves her mouth. “It’s a pretty amazing feeling, isn’t it? Being in love?” She pauses. “And, listen, I know this probably isn’t the time to tell you this, but…Tygue and I are getting married.”
For a moment, all my problems whisk out of my tired brain. “Really?”
Summer blushes. “He proposed on the last night of our trip. We’re thinking a Christmas wedding in Jamaica.”
“Oh my God! Really?” I sling my arm over her shoulder and squeeze her warmly. “I’m so happy for you guys. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” She pauses again. “Why don’t you call him?”
“Tygue? I can just congratulate him in person.”
“Not Tygue. Ben.”
“I can’t call him.”
“Why not?”
“Because I asked him to leave.”
“So ask him to come back.”
I swallow. “It’s not that simple. Look, even if I do tell him how I feel, the media won’t stop harassing us. And as long as the press is interested in me, Gloria won’t let me work at the center.”
Summer’s expression softens. “Then you need to ask yourself this—what’s more important to you: your job or Ben?”