Page 33 of Losing a Piece of Me

Hannah became my first friend when I moved away from home. During the course of submitting applications all around town, I walked into her store and asked if she was hiring. Her dark eyes were transparent to the feelings held behind them, and I could see a flood of sadness and anxiety barely restrained as she told me the store was about to close. My heart longed to connect with her and help somehow, and we ended up talking for hours. The next day, we went to the bank where I bought the building with my college money. It saved her store and I was made co-owner. We’ve been best friends ever since and haven’t looked back.

“Hello?” she answers.

“I’m back in town, up for a drink?”

“Hell yeah, I’m closing up now. Meet me at the bar around the corner?”

“I’ll be there.” I hang up and grab my purse.

Smoky doesn’t move, but I rub his head on my way out.

Ten minutes later, I walk into the bar where Hannah is already sitting at a pub-style table with two drinks.

She stands and I hug her. Immediately, she knows something is wrong.

“Spill it.”

And I do. Everything from going back home, seeing that house and those people, seeing Striker, the man I love and had to run away from, sleeping with him and all the feelings that it brought up. I tell her all of it.

“Why do you keep running from this guy?” she asks as she slips a section of her rainbow-dyed hair behind her ear.

“You know why.”

“That shit that happened with his dad? Who cares? He is a grown-ass man, I think he can handle the truth.”

“It’s not just that. What if I get back together with him and his dad does what he threatened all those years ago?”

“What happened… that was a long time ago. I mean, do you think it would even matter anymore?”

I shrug. That’s not a chance I can take.

Hannah doesn’t press for more. She knows me. She knows if she pushes too hard, I will shut down and shut her out. It hasn’t happened many times, but it has happened and she hates it.

Instead of pushing me, she lets the subject drop and instead, she talks about the store. She takes my mind off of it all.

As I stagger out of the cab in front of my apartment building, I look up and see two of everything. My mission for the night has been accomplished: get drunk enough to stop caring.

I’m only inside long enough to strip out of my clothes and get washed off. Before I’m even out of the shower, I hear Jeff yelling for me.

I turn off the water and wrap a towel around myself, heading toward the living room.

“Hey. I used your key to get in.” He holds it up in front of his face before tossing it on the counter.

“You look a little rough. Long weekend?” he asks as he takes a seat next to me on the couch.

“You have no idea.” I shake my head before turning to look at him.

His dark hair is neatly styled and his brown eyes are kind and friendly. “Want to talk about it?” He wraps his arm around my shoulders and places a soft kiss to my bare skin.

“I slept with someone,” I blurt out.

He seems taken back but not upset. “Oh.”

When we started doing this thing, the number one rule was that we couldn’t sleep with anyone else.

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t planned. I just ran into my ex-boyfriend and, well, one thing led to another.”

He shakes his head and takes his arm off my shoulders. “I understand.”

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