Page 6 of More Than an Ex-Girlfriend

“If I ever need help with the ladies, I’ll call you.” I’m not quite sure I’ll ever want anyone’s help with my relationships, but the offer was nice.

When I get back to the table, Dag springs off his barstool. “Oh good. You’re back. Goldie left two songs ago, and I want to be sure she makes it home.”

I know when it’s pointless to argue. “Then let’s go. Or you could, you know, text her. Goldie is smart and knows you are willing to help.”

That doesn’t stop him from walking to the door. “I used to think she was smart, but she picked me for a best friend.” He flashes a grin, but the hurt behind it is evident.

“Let’s head back to the ranch.” As I follow him out, I check my phone for messages, but my new friend hasn’t responded.

I may never meet her, but messaging her has been good. She hasn’t said anything magical. There isn’t some online romantic spark. But I’ve given myself permission to open up to someone other than Lettie, and that feels like huge progress.

CHAPTER3

LETTIE

For the last few months, Crocheting-Cowboy and I continued to message back and forth. I message him about mundane things, like what I made myself for breakfast, and exciting things, like my best friend getting engaged and then married. I don’t use names. Identifying info is never part of our discussions. He talks about his job in vague terms and about how so many of his close friends are getting engaged and married.

There was a message where he shared that seeing all his friends in relationships made him feel a little like he was getting left behind.

And since I feel that too, we chatted about that for a while.

Having deep conversations with someone I wouldn’t recognize on the street is both weird and cathartic.

My life overall is good. I’m happy. Christmas is right around the corner, and I’m still working at the donut shop.

But the left behind conversation has haunted me for weeks. If I’d ignored Archer’s grandmother and stayed with him, we’d probably be married by now. I so wish I could rewind time and make a different decision.

But I can’t go back in time. I can’t even make myself talk to Archer. The idea of reconciling with him is just a fantasy at this point.

And Crocheting-Cowboy is a nice distraction from real life. His messages are definitely bright spots in my day. Lately, we’ve been talking about Christmas, and how even though we have people around us, we both feel alone.

I’d never admit that to Layla because she’d feel guilty and try to fix it. But it isn’t her fault, and I’m not sure it can be fixed except inside me. And I’m the only one who can tackle that.

But after losing my dad when I was seven and living with an alcoholic mom after that, I got used to being alone. Archer was the exception to that. We were friends long before we dated, and with him, I never felt alone.

After I chased him away, the loneliness returned. It lessened when I was living with Layla, but it was never gone. And ever since she moved out, it’s a daily companion.

I’m happy that she and Nico married, but I miss having her as a roommate.

At work, I’m wiping down the counters in the back and listening as customers chat with Layla about Christmas plans.

She is so excited about spending the holiday with her new husband. They had a quiet courthouse ceremony and will have a big wedding in the spring. She says it’s so they have time to save money and some other family reasons, but I can’t help but wonder if she’s arranged it that way because of me. Because the ceremony was tiny and we knew who would be there, I showed up. Unlike her birthday. I wasn’t there when Nico proposed because I didn’t know if Archer would be there.

And that makes me a terrible friend.

But I’ll talk to Archer soon because there’s a possibility he might be at the big wedding, and I won’t run away and avoid conflict. I owe that to Layla.

It’s hard living alone. I’ve never done it before, and the last few months have been really tight. I can cover expenses if I get enough graphic design work, but saving has become a thing of the past. Layla doesn’t need to know that though. I just want her to enjoy her Christmas with her new husband.

Tessa pops her head into the kitchen. “Have a minute? I wanted to chat with you about something in my office.”

Whenever I get called to the office, I worry that I’ve done something horribly wrong and am about to get fired. As I follow her down the short hall, I grasp at memories, trying to figure out what I did wrong and why she wants to chat.

She swings the door closed before dropping into her desk chair. “Have a seat. I wanted to talk back here because this is an awkward conversation.”

The lead-in isn’t helping to ease my concern. “Okay.”

“Layla mentioned that you might be tight on finances. I wish I could bump up your pay or hours, but that’s just not feasible right now.”

---