Page 64 of Falling For Us Again

Lola squeals as I pour generously. We both need this tonight.

“To women,” Lola says, lifting her glass in a toast. “Freed from the shackles of stupid, lying cheats.”

I clink my glass against hers, and we both take a big sip. We sit in silence, finishing off our glass on wine, and pouring another, and another.

It doesn’t take long before I start to feel the effects of the alcohol, dulling the sharp edges of my anger.

“I can't believe Maggie and Dylan have a thing going on. I could've sworn that they were only friends.” Lola says.

“He can go to hell for all I care.”

Lola doesn't say anything, and I gulp down my glass of wine before refilling it.

“You know,” Lola starts after a few moments of silence, “I ended things with Brian.”

I nearly choked on my wine, turning to her in shock. “For real?”

She nods, swirling the liquid in her glass. “The other night at the bar, when Dylan was taking me home, I saw him kissing that woman. I was drunk, so nobody thinks I saw it. Dylan told Maggie to take me in, but I saw everything.”

My heart aches for her, a wave of protective anger surging through me. I can't imagine the betrayal and disrespect she must have felt at that moment.

I take her hands in mine. “Lola, I’m so sorry.”

She shrugs, her smile sad but resigned. “It was just a matter of time, really. I just didn’t want to admit it because of all the years I invested in him, but I knew there was no way I was going to marry him.”

“Jokes on him though. I emptied our bank accounts and cancelled the credit cards. They were mine anyways. I have a feeling his side piece won’t be there much longer when she realizes he’s nothing but a broke piece of shit.”

We both dissolve into uncontrollable laughter.

We fall into a comfortable silence, the weight of our respective heartbreaks settling between us like an old, unwelcome friend. We drink some more, and with every sip, the tension eases, replaced by a deep, aching sadness.

I feel the tears prickling at the corners of my eyes, and I know it’s only a matter of time before the dam breaks.

Lola leans her head against my shoulder, her voice thick with unshed tears. “Men are the worst, aren’t they?”

I laugh, though it’s more of a choked sob. “The absolute worst.”

We sit there for what feels like hours, drowning our sorrows in wine and aiming curses at the men who’ve hurt us.

Lola smiles. “You know what we need?”

“What’s that?”

“We need to watch some trashy TV. No better way to make you feel better about your life choices.”

“You are absolutely right.”

We settle in front of the television, wrapping ourselves in a large blanket and a bowl of popcorn as we get pulled into the latest drama.

Eventually, the tears come, slow and silent at first, then in uncontrollable sobs. Lola wraps her arms around me, and wecling to each other like lifelines in a storm, our heartbreaks mingling together until they’re one and the same.

“I hate him,” I whisper. “And I hate that I still care.”

“I know,” Lola murmurs, her voice soft and full of understanding. “But we’ll get through this. Together.”

I believe her. I have Lola, and she has me. We’ll survive this, no matter how sad we feel right now.

We fall asleep on the couch, the television flickering in the background, the wine glasses empty beside us.

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