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Evan hasn’t come home; he isn’t talking to me. It’s been four days and each day I feel like I need to cave more and more. I didn’t know how much I wanted him there until he was gone. I just need him back.
A huff leaves me and I shake my head at the thought. Breakups are always hard and that’s what this is, so there’s only one way to move on and that’s to get it over with.
I don’t want to be in our townhouse, but I have nowhere else to go.
An easy breath leaves me as I stand behind the only woman in line at Brew Madison and tilt my head to read the sign on the back wall. All the beverages they have to offer are written on a large chalkboard, and large bakery cases house all the treats they have available. From small pastries to toasted breakfast sandwiches, all lined up as if they’re plastic replicas, even though I know they’re freshly made and just simply that good.
I haven’t had much of an appetite, but every sip of my coffee this morning made me nauseated, so a blueberry muffin top it is.
The brunette curls of the woman in front of me swing from side to side as she gives her order. I can’t see her face, but I know she’s young. From her bright red high heels and black leather jacket paired with white shorts a bit too short for fall, she’s definitely a downtown girl.
I smile at the thought as she waits for her coffee: pumpkin spice.
I used to be like her. Stylish and in charge of my destiny. New to the city and ready to tame it.
I thought I had.
A career and reputation in this publishing industry that I reached within only a few years. I’m an agent worth my weight now and everyone knows it. My name and brand have a meaning to them. The clients are coming in and I’m able to hire more reps and editors. It’s the business I’ve always wanted. More than that, I’m married to a man who still drips of sex appeal and has an edge to him that is irresistible. We own our townhouse near Madison Square Garden. Even if it is small, it’s the closest we could get. And it’s New York, so location iseverything.
And my closet … the girl in front of me would kill for my closet. Not that she would know it based on how I’m dressed at the moment.
My name has a purpose and strength to it that made me proud. Evan and I were a powerhouse in the social scene. The couple everyone wanted to be. But envy comes with threats and in its nature, ruins. Rumors and gossip created a wedge between the two of us.
In the last few years, the highs of this world have crashed as my marriage slowly dissolved.
I let it. I spent my life not living it, wanting more and more from my work. Running as fast as I could, just to stay still while I ignored every other change in the world around me. How could I not have seen it deteriorating?
As the woman turns and I get a look at her cateye makeup that’s subtle enough to still be businesslike and red lips that match her heels, I remember that feeling that used to flow through me. The one that said I could conquer anything.
Yeah, I used to be like her. I still have the heels and even the stylish clothes, although I lean toward professional these days with my wardrobe and those shorts sure as heck don’t lean that way.
“What can I get you?” the young man asks me from behind the counter. He’s got to be in his early twenties at most. I catch a glimpse of his sleeve tattoo and it reminds me of Evan’s tattoos for only a moment.
More thoughts of Evan. Everything reminds me of him.
“A chai and a blueberry muffin top,” I answer him with a tight voice and clear my throat as I reach for my card in my wallet. It’s a Kate Spade and the soft pink and white match the purse, but I’m only just now realizing that it looks a bit dingy. Not so much so that it’s noticeably dirty. Just enough where it doesn’t look so new anymore.
As I wait for my chai, I get a look at my reflection in the glass. I guess the same can be said about me. My fingers tease my hair at the roots, putting a little more volume there and I apply a coat of stain on my lips while I wait.
I wrap the belt around my shirt a little tighter, showing off my waist and lean to my right in the reflection.
I’m not done yet. There’s still life in me. There’s still that girl who wants more buried deep down inside. But what exactly she wants more of remains a question.
Evan, the silent answer, is obvious.
But instead the voice in my head whisperslove.
Even if he can’t give me everything, I know what I’m desperate for: to love and be loved.
The bells to the door chime as I accept my chai and muffin top. I silently pray that it’s not Jacob so I can have a moment to try to shovel this down.
No such luck.
I smile broadly when I see him, hiding everything I was just thinking and focusing on my potential client and his career. I mentally tally up how much work we both need to do to get his branding both going in the right direction and noticed by the right market.
“Jacob,” I greet him and his deep green, hazel eyes focus on me.
“Katerina, it’s wonderful to finally have a one-on-one,” he says as he steps over the welcome mat and slips off his thin, black wool jacket. He has a downtown style that would pair well with the woman who was just here. From his gray shirt that hangs low but is fitted tight across his chest, to the boyish grin and messy dark hair. He’s sex on a stick for sure.