Page 27 of Embers in Our Past

My sleep has been shit, hence the pumice stone that lines my eyes each morning, along with the endless coffee I have to drink to keep them open. On shift, I feel like I’m either focused on the job or my mind wanders to her. I can’t seem to do anything but think about what she’s doing. Knowing she’s here, in my city, is wrecking me.

I swing the door open to find my brother’s smug face, knowing full well he’s probably well fucked by his girlfriend. They go at it whenever he’s around her, and I swear I’ve never seen him happier. I couldn’t be more thrilled he’s found his forever in Kennedy, but how in the fucking hell has the universe done this one-eighty on us?

River used to fuck anything with a pulse, while I was the settled one, and now he’s two steps away from putting a ring on it, and I’m over here thinking about possibly entering the dating scene again. I can’t even deal with this shitty reality called my life.

“Fuck, Clay, you’re chipper this morning,” my brother starts, and I answer by trying to shut the door on him. I haven’t even said anything, and he’s already judging me.

He laughs and stops the door from closing. I don’t even bother waiting around and start walking toward the kitchen, needing caffeine before getting myself ready.

“Can you text Ma and let her know we’ll be late? I need to grab a quick shower.” I get a mug from the cabinet. “Want a cup?”

He shakes his head. “Seriously, what crawled up your ass?”

I scratch the stubble that’s grown on my chin as I watch the coffee brew in my machine. “Abby,” is the only response I give him.

“Oh, ass play? I bet Kennedy would be all for that. She’s all about being dominant in the boardroom, but she likes her man being the dominant one in the bedroom when I do this thing?—”

I cover my ears and start singing loudly.

I glare at my brother and see him throw his head back and laugh.

“Fucking filter, River. Goddamn it. No one, especially me, wants to hear about your bedroom kinks with Kennedy.” I throw a packet of sweetener at him.

“You’re such a baby when you aren’t getting any, Clay. Goddamn.” He throws the packet back.

I’m being a complete asshole right now. He’s right; I’m whiny and quite irritated and just can’t seem to figure my shit out. I’ve been in a piss poor mood since Abby left my apartment that morning after we had sex.

I don’t know if I’m mad we went at it like fucking hormonal teens who couldn’t keep it in our pants, or if I’m angry I’ll never get to have her to myself again. Maybe it’s both. I’m utterly confused with my emotions.

I put my hands on my kitchen counter and hang my head. “You’re right, and I’m sorry.”

My brother comes over to comfort me, rubbing my shoulders. He’s got this sensitive side that many don’t get to see, or at least I think he does until he whispers, “Could you say that a little louder so that the recorder on my phone could catch that to prove that I’m right?”

I smack him on the shoulder, and he laughs. I can’t help but laugh with him. If he’s good for one thing, it’s to get me to loosen up a bit. My brother is the one person who can always lighten my mood.

“Seriously though, you haven’t heard from her?” he asks, knowing damn well if I had, I would have told him first.

“No. I think, even without words, we know last time was it. It’s not healthy. As much as I didn’t want the divorce—actually, I still don’t—if her departure the next morning from my apartment is any indication, she doesn’t want to explore anything further with me. I can’t expect she wants to reconnect, and I’m not going to assume, much like she keeps making assumptions about my feelings. I can’t be friends with her. I just can’t bear it, so we have to cut things off. She needs to build her own life back in Boston. We can’t do this whole hanging out together thing,” I say, grabbing my cup of coffee.

“I get that. I still think it sucks what she did, going out with Malloy,” River says.

“Yeah, from what she said, it was merely a blind date. But I don't understand why she would continue the date with him once she saw who it was. She had to know how much that would hurt me. And then for them to come toJenson's? That was way too far.” I try to shrug it off, still feeling my muscles tense at the thought of them standing together at that bar.

“Either way, I think a warning would have been nice,” River says.

If my brother is one thing, it’s protective of the people he loves. He loved Abby like a sister. The minute she left, he was incredibly hurt, but his priority was to make sure I was cared for. He never once talked poorly of her. But after seeing her with Malloy, all bets were off. He knows all the shit Abby and I went through, but even that didn’t give Abby the excuse to pull the stunt she did.

I was hurt to see her out with Malloy. Although the explanation was short, once she explained what happened, I believed her. Knowing Marissa, I’d buy that she would set her up on a blind date. But the more I think about it, the more I know that if the tables were reversed, I wouldn’t have gone on a date with someone who would affect her the way Malloy affects me. Seeing her on a date really opened my eyes to the fact that this is inevitable. I realize now that I have to pull my head out of my ass and get myself out there. I have to start dating.

Even though I know I need to start dating, I don’t want to. It’s exhausting, and I just don’t feel like doing it again. I hate going on dates and possibly enduring weird silences. Dating Abby feels like ages ago, and we simply clicked. What if I never find that with someone again? The idea alone is daunting, which leads me to my current mood.

“Yeah, I won’t argue with you there. A warning would have been fucking awesome. A simple ‘I’m back’ would have also been nice,” I say in return.

We sit in silence until our mother texts us a GiF of Anger fromInside Out, and I book it to my room to get ready. No matter how old we get, I will never not be scared to be reprimanded by my mom.

“No, Ma, I don’t think Cindy from down the street is a good match for me anymore. We shared a cookie in third grade. I think we might have grown apart since that groundbreaking moment of love.” I give my brother a pleading look but he’s eating his corn like he’s never had the vegetable in his life. The smirk on the fucker’s face tells me he is enjoying this conversation too much.

“Kennedy, sweetie, you don’t have any friends you can set my Clay up with?” My mother continues her harassment.

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