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She gasps. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, um… It’s a long story.” I sigh. “I was wondering if you were free, maybe we could meet for that celebratory drink.”
“Sure. I’d love to.”
“Great.” We agree to meet at the hotel bar, and the relief I feel is almost instant.
What a shitty day. Though I’m a little lost and hurt, I’m looking forward to a fresh start. But first, I’m going to salvage what’s left of what is supposed to be one of the most important days of my life.
Fuck Victor.
* * *
“Good riddance, Victor, you fucking dick,”Heather cheers, bringing the glass to her lips.
I throw my head back and laugh.
Heather is sassy, and so much fun. Not to mention an exotic beauty with dark, wavy hair that hangs just past her shoulders, golden-brown skin, light eyes, and pouty lips. I wish she and I had hung out more in college. I could’ve used a friend like her.
While waiting for Heather to arrive, I checked my bank account, and my eyes nearly fell from their sockets. Victor called it a graduation gift, but I’d be an idiot to think his gifts didn’t come without strings. My immediate thought was to send it back. Then I decided I wouldn’t be too hasty in returning his money. At least not until I find a place to live and a job. Then I would return every single penny. But tonight, drinks are on me—or Victor.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?”
I wouldn’t even know where to start. How do you tell someone you hardly know that your ex-boyfriend attacked you, threatened your life, and deposited ten thousand dollars into your bank account? It sounds just as insane as the man himself. “He was a controlling asshole,” I admit, leaving it at that.
“Gross.” She shakes her head, then lifts her glass again and taps it against mine. “To starting over.”
“To taking back control,” I toast before taking a big gulp of my dirty martini. The alcohol spreads through my limbs, making me feel relaxed.
“What about you?” I prompt. “Do you have a man?”
Heather pulls her glass from her lips and shakes her head. “Relationships are hard for me.”
“Oh?”
She sets her drink down on the table and leans back in her seat. “When I was sixteen, my parents were killed in a car accident. The day they died, something inside me died too. My brother and I both went to counseling, and while he worked through his grief spending long hours at the office, I worked through mine with our next-door neighbor, Tommy.”
I frown, feeling like the world’s biggest asshole. Here I am whining over a man when she’s lost so much more. “I’m so sorry.”
She lifts a shoulder. “Don’t be. Tommy was hella hot and just what I needed at the time. I’ve had a few boyfriends, but truthfully, my relationships have all been superficial. I’m not a commitment-phobe or anything. I just haven’t felt like I wanted… more. You know what I mean?” I nod, and she lifts a shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m broken.”
I shake my head. “You’re not broken,” I assure her. “You were carrying some heavy emotional baggage, and you needed an outlet. A distraction from the pain. Some people use sex and others use drugs. You seem to be doing well. You’re a college graduate.” I grin.
“True.” She purses her lips.
“I’m quite the opposite. A hopeless romantic. I swore every boyfriend I’ve ever had wastheone.” I giggle, running a finger over the rim of my glass. “I always wanted more, even though they weren’t that serious.” I pause. “Last year, I was dating this guy, Spencer, from my business ethics class. He was a senior graduating in the summer. We dated for months. I really liked him, and I figured we were on the same page. He even invited me to his graduation and dinner with his family afterward. I never heard from him after that.”
Her eyes flare. “He ghosted you?”
“Yep.”
“You know what you need?” Her expression turns conspiratorial. “A sexorcism.”
I bark out a laugh. “Like a night of hot sex with a stranger to rid me of my Victor demons?”
“Exactly.”
“Do people even do that anymore?”