Page 21 of Loving London

Instead of spending last weekend in California with my best friend and sister, like Paige and I had planned last week at dinner, I spent it alone in my room, wallowing in my self-pity and torturing myself by looking at pictures of Loïc and me on my phone.

I hate who I’ve become. This isn’t me, and it’s infuriating. I’ve never let a boy dictate my self-worth or my happiness. Then again, I’ve never been in love before, and Loïc isn’t just any boy. He’s a man.

The man for me, a small voice echoes in my mind.

Oh, stop it!

I loathe myself right now. I don’t understand why I can’t break out of this funk. But I know I need to. This isn’t healthy for me. It’s not who I am. I’m so much stronger than this. I’ve just seemed to misplace my backbone at the moment.

Paige’s words from last week have been on a continuous loop in my mind.“Maybe you just need a change of scenery.”

I think she’s right. Everywhere I look, I’m surrounded by reminders of my time with Loïc, and it’s painful. It’s crazy to think that I’ve spent five years in this city, yet everything brings back images of only the past year. Long gone are the fond recollections of my time in college. As I go through my day, all I see is Loïc, Loïc, Loïc.

I can’t do it anymore. Maybe that means I’m not the strong woman I thought I was. I’m not sure. But I simply can’t continue like this. I’m fading. No matter what I do or what I say, I can’t move on. Thoughts of Loïc consume me, and it has to stop.

Heartbreak is the most painful kind of torture, and the mind is its greatest ally.

I can’t stop thinking about Loïc and how much I love him. The hows, the whys, and the explanations that might never come plague my brain with sorrow. The what-ifs are a constant torment. I might never know what went through Loïc’s mind to make him want to end our relationship, and not knowing is the hardest part.

Yet none of that matters. I can’t control another person. I get that. I can’t make Loïc give me an explanation. I can’t make him change his mind and force him to love me again.

I can only control my own choices, and right now, I’m failing miserably.

So, yes…perhaps I do need a change of scenery. And not just for a weekend. It’s going to have to be for much longer.

I don’t want to leave Paige. I’ll miss her like crazy, but I know that, no matter where our lives lead us, we’ll always be the best of friends. Paige is my family, and distance won’t change that.

And that is why I’m staring at Brad’s contact information. Brad Abernathy, senior editor of theLos Angeles Times. Let’s face it; Brad only offered me a job because he wanted to get in my pants. I know this. I’ve been writing articles for a local online news outlet. That’s hardly theLA Times. But I’d also be stupid not to consider a position there, regardless of why I was being offered it. That is…if the offer is still on the table. It was six months ago. Just because Brad was attracted to me and could use his connections to offer me my dream job doesn’t mean that I owe him anything.

Here goes nothing.

I let out a sigh, full of nerves, as his number starts to ring. I’m hoping it goes to voice mail. It’s much easier to feign confidence over voice mail.

But I’m not that lucky.

“Hello?” he answers, his voice full of poise and swagger, just like I remember.

“Hi, Brad?” The greeting comes out more as a question.

“Yes?”

I clear my throat. “Hi. I don’t know if you remember me, but we met on New Year’s Eve last year. You put your information into my phone.”

“London?” he questions.

My name coming over the phone startles me. For some reason, I was convinced that he wouldn’t remember me. It’s been half of a year since I ran out of that club, and honestly, it feels like a lifetime ago.

“Yeah. London Wright. I’m surprised you remembered my name.”

“Of course I do. It’s not everyday that I meet someone as memorable as you.” His deep voice is thick with sexual undertones, or maybe I’m just reading too much into it, and he always sounds like that.

“Oh…well, I know it’s been a while, but I was thinking about relocating to LA. I wondered if the position we spoke about was still available and if there was a chance that I might be able to get an interview.” Goodness, I sound like a rambling idiot.Get your crap together, London.

“No”—he chuckles—“that position has been filled for a while now.”

“Right. Of course.”

I don’t know what I was expecting. Of course it’s been filled. It was silly to get my hopes up, even for a minute.

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