Page 1 of Hooked on Lane

Chapter One

Jennifer

The sun’s glare was turning down as I finished my final touches while getting ready for my date with Peyton. Laura let me borrow her green dress, as I didn't have the chance to purchase a dress after work. It paired perfectly with some black chunky heels to complete the look. She was a lifesaver.

My small New York City apartment wasn’t anything spectacular, especially with my minuscule salary, but it allowed me to live in the city and close to work. I put my hair in an uncomplicated but stylish twist and my jewelry shone brightly against my neck.

As I grabbed my small clutch and purse, my doorbell rang. I checked the clock, noting how punctual Peyton was, and opened the door. Outside, Peyton stood tall in a gray sweater, black chinos, and a white dress shirt underneath, holding a bouquet of daisies, which he shyly offered to me.

“Happy anniversary.” He pulls me in for a quick kiss. “You look gorgeous. Is that a new dress?”

One thing that I truly appreciated about him was that he was always giving me compliments, something I wasn't able to experience with my previous partner. I smiled, taking the daisiesfrom him and grabbing a vase to put them in before we head out. “You didn’t have to get me flowers, babe.” I nudged myself into his chest and his chin rested on the top of my head. “So, where are you taking me?”

“It’s a surprise.” He shut the apartment door behind me and I grabbed his hand.

It had been six months since I met Peyton. He walked toward my table, smiling wide, and the sun lit up his blond hair while he took my order. My best friend Laura gave me crap about it all night, because every time he came out of the back, my eyes would wander over to him. By the end of our dinner, he came over and asked if I would be interested in getting together when he got off, and even though Laura told me he could be a serial killer, I said yes. I hadn’t expected to meet someone and have an instant connection, but that’s what happened. We talked all night, and by the end, he was the missing piece of the puzzle to my life here in New York City. He was the first semiserious relationship I’d been in since arriving in the city ten years ago, and I was almost afraid to say it out loud, but the two of us were perfect for each other.

“Can you believe it’s only been six months? I swear it’s like we’ve been together for ages.” He opened the the door for me and I slid inside.

He was acting strange, like something was bothering him. With no words exchanged, we drove until we reached the restaurant. I forced a grin on my face as we settled in at the small table. From the moment we left my apartment, he had not even glanced my way. He seemed to avoid making eye contact.

“Is there something bothering you?” I asked as the waiter approached, and we each ordered a glass of wine. “You just seem tense. Did something happen at work?”

Peyton had been having a dispute with the proprietor of the restaurant he worked in, and he'd been discussing it for quitea while. Two weeks ago, he thought about walking out, but like everyone else in this city, bills had to be paid and finding a job wasn’t as easy as one would think, even in New York City.

“It’s been a crap day. Honestly, I just want to chug a couple of glasses of wine and forget about it.”

Great. Our anniversary was ruined by work problems. This day was about us. Not his fucked up boss who doesn’t take any of his ideas seriously.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Yes, just get tell me what’s going on. It’ll make you feel better.”

“I don’t know how to say this, but I think it’s time we go our separate ways.”

Wait, what?He was breaking up with me on our anniversary? What kind of man does that? I tried to subdue my temper, but it just kept increasing.

“It’s not you, it’s me. I just… feel like maybe we want two different things right now. You deserve the husband, house, and kids… and I’m just not ready to commit to that.”

Why couldn’t he have told me this before we left for dinner? There I was, all dressed up, and he knew he was going to break up with me before we even left my house.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

He brushed his hands along the back of his head as his eyes glowered at the table. “Jennifer, listen… no need to cause a scene, okay? Things happen. People grow apart. It’s a fact of life. I could’ve just strung you along another two years and wasted your time. Would you rather me do that?”

Oh, Peyton was testing me, and I had been careful not to share my anger yet, but that glass of wine sitting in front of him deserved to be plastered all over his face. “So, what you are saying is… for the last six months, you have known you had no intention of getting serious, yet never once mentioned it to me?”

My biological clock was getting louder and louder, and when I met him, we talked extensively about this being serious. Serious enough to end in marriage and the whole shebang. This wasn’t a new development. He played me and wasted my fucking time.

“It’s not you. It’s me. This relationship isn’t right for me. I love you, but I’m not in love with you. That spark I need in a relationship to commit to marriage isn’t here. Isn’t that what you want? The whole husband, kids, dog, and a white picket fence?”

I had to avert my eyes, the tears stinging my vision. He knew how to crush a girl's heart. My hands would look great around his neck, but that wouldn’t solve anything.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, reaching out to touch my arm.

I brushed away his hand. “Save your apologies for someone else.” The wineglass was taunting me, telling me to throw it in his face, but causing a scene wouldn’t be for my benefit. I took my last sip, pushed the chair back, and left. Peyton didn’t even try to come after me.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, and my shaking hands fumbled with my phone as I tried to text my best friend.

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