Page 3 of Boyfriend From Hell

Gracie sighed and reached her other hand across the table to rest both hands on mine, rubbing her thumbs across my skin.

“I’m sorry. I’m not good at breakups, too many rom-coms. I guess I just figured since you guys were together for so long he’d at least, I don’t know.

Be less sucky? Do you think he’s already moved on? ”

Uh, ouch? Her question felt like a slap to the face.

“I don’t know?” I scrunched my face up at the question. It completely caught me off guard. I assumed (hoped) if he was too busy to be around for me when we were together (him not seeing a future with me aside) that meant he also didn’t have time for anyone else.

She mumbled something under her breath I couldn’t quite hear, not that I particularly wanted to hear it. I wanted to skirt the topic of my ex already moving on as fast as humanly possible. Why would she even care if he moved on already, anyway? It’s not like he’s her ex.

I sighed. I knew she was just being a good friend and looking out for me, as any best friend would, but the words still stung all the same.

Break ups are never easy, I would know. Every man I’d ever been with left me for one piss-poor reason or another.

Maybe I’m the problem. Maybe I’m just purely unlovable.

I shook my head, keeping my eyes locked on the taupe-colored liquid in my mug.

I could feel the familiar sting of tears in my eyes, but I’ll be damned if I let myself cry again.

Not that I didn’t want to cry, just not here.

Hell, I wanted nothing more than to curl up in a weeping ball and wail.

But I couldn’t do that here––especially not in front of Gracie.

What I really wanted to do was rip my heart from my chest and throw it under an oncoming bus just to rid myself of the thing all together.

Gracie retracted her hands and scoffed; I didn’t need to look at her to know that my best friend's face was twisted in her signature beautiful scowl.

“I know exactly what you need!”

Reluctantly, I looked up at her and groaned at the familiar scheming sound of her voice.

“You need to forget about that asshat and go out! You’re in a new city—a new city that I just so happen to live in and know all the best clubs. What do you say?”

How am I supposed to answer that? Am I supposed to confess I’m desperate and wished he’d text me back saying this was all a sick joke and he wants me back?

Or that I’d rather sit in the dark and stare at my phone, waiting for his name to pop up?

Admit I’m weak and don’t actually want to move on or even try to?

Acknowledge I have some type of deep-seated low self-worth that only a therapist could help me with?

Pass.

I haul my mug to my lips. “It’s only been six months,” I state dryly before I sip my now cold drink.

A snort escapes my friend. “Yea six months post-Felix, but be real, Deer. It’s not like he was ever there to begin with. Sure, he’s hot-ish, but besides that he doesn’t have anything going for him! He was always leaving you to go on work trips, he was barely around to begin with.”

I made a face at her at the mention of him being hot-ish.

She wasn’t wrong—he’d been absent in almost every way throughout the entirety of our relationship.

But still, I wasn’t alone-alone. It was true though; he was never really present for me.

He did pay my bills while we lived together and that was pretty ideal.

For an aspiring author, it was honestly the most ideal really—if you looked at it, closed one eye and squinted the other, it was perfect.

But the lonely nights vastly outweighed the nights where he was home in any capacity.

Four years ago, at the start of our relationship, he had been perfect.

Doting on me, taking me on romantic dates, toe-curling sex.

He was more than hot-ish to me. He was everything.

I had been head over heels for him, so of course when he asked me to move in—with the promise of taking care of me and someday making me his wife—no shit, I said yes. Who wouldn’t have?

I was just starting my career as an independent author after being rejected by hundreds of agents.

Bills paid, rent free life with a hot man?

Sign me up! But then, it all came to an end—of course—as all my relationships did.

He was offered a promotion at work in year two of our relationship, and that’s when the distance between us really showed itself.

In the beginning, he would make it a point to call me every night, no matter the time zone.

Video chat, text, email—whatever he could do to stay in contact with me, he did.

But then it started with a missed call, then it became “I worked late and crashed early” texts, then came the missed calls and no texts at all.

Honestly, if it wasn’t for the continuous flow of money into the account he had set up for me when I first moved in, coupled with the fact the lights were still working in his house, I would have thought the man died.

“Deer?” Gracie nudged my foot under the table with hers, “Hello? Earth to Deer—”

I lowered my mug, snapping back to reality. “Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you wanted to go to the quarry with Vince and I? A few of his work friends are getting together to watch the meteor shower tonight.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table.

“It could be fun! I can even swing by the bakery after this and snag a cake. We could turn it into a little impromptu birthday party.”

A birthday party with strangers? Why not just buy me a sweater and stitch ‘pathetic’ onto the chest and parade me around town.

“Oh, uh—”

“His coworkers are so nice, kind of nerdy, you know, coders or whatever—but they’re super welcoming.

And, I’d make sure it wasn’t weird or anything,” Gracie pressed, looking at me with expectant, wide eyes.

“Plus, the new guy is single! They just hired him. I don’t know much about him, but when I visited Vince at work the other day, I did catch a glimpse of him—he’s hot, with a capital ‘H’. ”

Great, she’s already playing matchmaker.

I stared at my best friend, really taking her in.

She was one of those friends where you can’t remember when or how you met, or when it was settled that you became best friends.

She just always was. She’d been there for me through everything.

Middle school, high school and the fever dream all of that entails.

We had even decided to attend the same university—granted, I dropped out after the first semester, but that’s beside the point.

We’ve been glued to one another for the better part of half our lives at this point.

She cocked a perfectly sculpted eye brow, her forehead not even so much as wrinkling while waiting for my answer.

“Yea, no, I’m good.” I threw a half smile her way to really drive home that I wasn’t into the idea, which only resulted in her rolling her eyes.

“Seriously? Do you want to at least get drinks later tonight?”

“No—” I began, “I have a new book I’m working on and I have a deadline I need to meet, so—”

“Deer, seriously? It’s your birthday, come on!” I had to stifle a laugh as she tossed her hands in the air, causing the small number of patrons that lingered in the café to glance in our direction. “It’s your golden birthday!”

I reached for her arms, mouthing an exaggerated ‘sorry’ to the people side-eyeing us.

“Gracie!” I could feel my cheeks warm at the unwanted attention she was drawing toward us.

She gave me a reluctant look as she lowered her arms.

“You should celebrate,” she stated flatly, jutting her bottom lip out.

“I know, I’m just not feeling up to it, maybe next week or something?” I offered.

Gracie perked up. “Wait, you should see if that hot neighbor of yours is home.”

She had been over to my apartment a total of one time and already spotted every hot and potentially single man in the whole building. I was in apartment 203, and coincidently my neighbor, Mr. 205, had just been getting home as we were hauling the last of my boxes into my unit.

I rolled my eyes. “Yea, no, I’m not going to knock on some stranger’s door and ask if they want to hang out.”

“Why? Ugh, just forget about that asshole. He’s always been an asshole, always will be! You can’t seriously squander away your youth like this! What, are you going to just stay single and die alone?”

Ouch.

“I’m not squandering my youth—who even says that? I just—I don’t feel like I’m ready to talk to anyone new. Plus, like I said, I’m not going to knock on a stranger’s door! Who even does that?”

“I would! Did you see him? Talk about tall, dark and handsome!”

Of course I had seen my neighbor, I had two eyes.

I’d made a very strong effort to avoid him.

I felt lost enough as it was—I didn’t need some pretty boy making things worse for my brain or my heart.

A chime emitted from the dark depths of her purse that was slung over the back of the chair behind her.

Please be Vince, please be Vince. I silently prayed.

I watched as she haphazardly reached an arm behind her, rifling blindly through her bag, stealing a quick glance at the message that lit up her phone screen—and then rolling her eyes.

“Ugh, sorry girl. Looks like Vince needs me to swing by the store for snacks for the little gathering tonight.” She looked at me apologetically. Thank God. “I can grab a cake if you decide—”

“No, no. Thanks, but I’ll still pass for tonight.” I waved a hand, cutting her off. “Thank you though, really. I appreciate you trying to make my birthday special.”

Gracie’s eyebrow cocked up again as she shifted to stand.

“I’m serious! No sarcasm! I really do appreciate it.” I nudged her foot with mine beneath the table. “Bestie.”

Gracie cringed, “Ew, you know I hate when people say that! I’m serious though Deer, Felix is a dick and you need some dick. Seriously, that neighbor. Or Vince’s coworker?” She eyed me and winked.

I gave a soft laugh. Honestly, it was a relief Vince needed her to run around after this, that gave me a perfect excuse to call an end to this little coffee date so I could go home and rot on the couch in solitude.

I sure as hell am not going to—what? Waltz over to my neighbor’s door and say, ‘Hey it’s my birthday and my ex-boyfriend is ghosting me, wanna come over Mr. Stranger-I’ve-Never-Spoken-To? ’—Yeah, no.

“Last call for any sad bitches that don’t want to be alone on their birthday,” Gracie offered.

“I’m good, I promise. It’s just a birthday, and you already treated me to a coffee. Besides, I have a hot date tonight with a bottle of wine, a marathon of shitty rom-coms, and my laptop.” I shifted in my chair, scooting back just enough to insinuate that I was ready to leave too.

“Okay.” She reached behind her and adjusted her purse. “Just, text me if you change your mind or if you want to do something later, alright?”