Page 16 of New Year, New You and Me

“I actually have a meeting to get to myself.”

Behind my back, I can hear the bed creak as he gets out. I keep my attention focused on picking out fresh underwear and a top from my drawers while he presumably gets dressed.

I can feel his presence before he presses a kiss to my nape. My shoulders freeze, but I stay resolute.

“Sorry to run out so fast,” he says, wrapping his arms around my waist to give me a squeeze. “I’ll see you later?”

I make a non-committal noise and continue dressing as if my life depends on it.

He plants another kiss on top of my head before leaving. I wait until I hear him bid Pigeon good-bye and for the door to close. Blindly tugging a shirt on over my head, I reach for my phone and pull up my last call.

Angela takes one look at my face over the phone. “Oh, no! What happened?”

“Oh, Ange.” A hot, fat tear slips down my cheek. “I’m such a freaking idiot.”

Twenty-four hours later, I’m curled up on my couch. Though Angela offered me support the way only a best friend can, I’m wallowing. It’s a good thing business is slower this time of year. I’d hate for my current state of misery to affect my work.

It’s good that I can take this time to curl up with Pigeon and binge-watch trashy reality TV. I did manage to stir long enough to do her fluids and refill the food bowl. Otherwise I’ve been rotting.

So much for the notion of “New Year, New Me.”

Not that it matters. I was only doing it for one reason. And that reason fucked me and then fucked me over.

I missed a few texts and calls from he-who-shall-not-be-named. No doubt he wanted to gloat. Or, worse, to pretend that he hadn’t betrayed me.

Someday, I’ll confront him. I’ll call him out on his bullshit. But not yet. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he broke me for even one second.

I let my phone’s battery drain instead of calling him back.

Oblivious to the time, I’m watching two women drunkenly scream at each other on TV when there’s a knock at my door. Pigeon perks up.

“Just ignore it.” I scratch behind her ears and press a kiss to her soft furry head. “Whoever it is, they’ll go away.”

There’s another knock. Despite my protest, Pigeon slips out of my arms and trots across the living room to scratch at the door.

“Molly!” Bradley’s voice calls out from the other side. “Molly, open the damn door.”

Pigeon mews and looks at me pitifully over her shoulder.

Her clear admiration snaps something inside of me. How dare he. How dare Bradley come into our perfectly content life and turn both of us inside out!

Indignant, I push myself up from the couch and stalk across the room. I throw the front door open, ready to give the man a piece of my mind.

“Thank God.” Bradley pulls me into his arms and squeezes me tightly. “You didn’t answer any of my calls or texts. Then youdidn’t show up at the gym.” He gives me another hug—so tight I can barely breathe—then pulls back to look down at me. “What’s going on?”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

His brow knits together. “What do you mean?”

Despite my best attempts to keep it together, my bottom lip quivers. “How did your meeting go with the travel agent?”

He shakes his head. “I didn’t meet with the agent.”

“Don’t lie to me. I heard the call.”

“You heard…” Understanding dawns on his face. “The call from the mayor’s office. Oh, baby.”

“Don’t ‘oh, baby’ me. Did you or did you not get asked to go behind my back to meet with our prospective client?”

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