Page 59 of The Boyfriend Boycott
“Early.” Not as early as when I woke up. I haven’t been able to sleep for the last few hours. Ever since Grady came home and uttered those three little words, I tossed and turned. Sleep evaded me until all I could do was get up and come here. “Can we go for a walk or something?” I bounce on the balls of my feet.
“I just woke up. I’m not dressed yet.” Ally gestures at her robe, before giving in with a sigh. “Okay, fine. Give me ten minutes. Then we’re going to Poppy’s for coffee. I get to have one cup a day and I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”
“Duh,” I say, rubbing my hands together, half because of this jittery feeling I haven’t been able to shake, and half to ward off the chill of the morning.
Ally closes the door, leaving me out on the front porch, and re-emerges wearing leggings and an oversized hoody, her hairthrown up into her signature ponytail secured with a lavender scrunchie.
“I hope you feel at least a little bit guilty about dragging a pregnant lady out of bed.”
“Walking is good for the pelvic floor, isn’t that what you said when you dragged me to the Little League game?” I say. Ally groans and rolls her eyes.
“Ugh. Yes. You’re right,” she says as we make our way into the town centre towards Thistle + Thorne. It’s early, but not so early that Poppy won’t at least be there, getting the first pot ready for the day. She’ll let us in if we knock, and we’ll be rewarded with the first fresh cup. “So, tell me why we’re out here?”
“Don’t you want coffee first?” I stall. “I think I need coffee before I can form a coherent sentence.”
As expected, the sign on the door is flipped toClosed, but Poppy is behind the counter, scooping espresso beans into the hopper. Her face alights when she sees us at the door and she drops the bag, letting a few beans scatter to the floor as she comes over to let us in.
“I didn’t expect to see you gals so early!” Poppy says in her sing-song way, her lashes batting behind her dark bangs.
“You can thank this one,” Ally grumbles, pointing at me with her thumb and pushing her way through the door with an eye roll. She beelines for the two armchairs by the window and flops down one.
“The coffee just finished brewing. I take it you’re desperate.” Poppy scurries off behind the counter and pours the steaming, life-giving liquid into three mismatched ceramic mugs before joining us. She leans on the arm of Ally’s chair.
I take an extended sip of my coffee before setting the cup down on the table. When I look up, they’re both staring at me, expectantly.
“Okay. Do you want the bad news, or the bad news?” I sigh.
“Just spit it out, Spencer,” Ally chides.
“Bad news number one, I’m officially a piece of human garbage. Number two, I’m completely and utterly fucked.”
Poppy flashes me an almost pitying look. Ally doesn’t. Ally can see right through my bullshit.
“You’re going to have to give me more than that,”she deadpans.
“I havefeelings,” I say, as if the feelings that I’m referring to should be obvious to everyone around me, but I’m met with confused looks. “Feelings. I have feelings. For Grady.”
Ally sits back in her chair, a smug look now replacing her questioning stare.
“To quote you this morning: ‘duh,’” she says, and Poppy laughs as if this whole situation isfunny.This is not funny. This is catastrophic. This was never supposed to happen. “What I want to know is why this is bad news.”
“I’m leaving, Ally. I have to. My landlord sent me an e-mail saying I can no longer sublet my place. Which means I either get this job so I can pay my rent or … I don’t know what I’ll do. I’m so close to getting this job. The council meeting is tomorrow, and then Mile High will see what I can do for them. Once I get this job, I’ll be gone.”I steel myself against the warring feelings within me. My heart wants to stay, but isn’t that what my mother has always done? Followed her heart? And where did that get her? She’s been kicked to the curb, broken-hearted more times than she can count.
“Leaving has never bothered you before. You’ve been with guys all around the world and have left every single one of them behind,” Ally notes. She knows this time is different, she just wants me to be the one to say it. She wants me to admit that my boyfriend boycott failed. Crashed and burned.
“Ripping the Band-Aid off will be harder this time. He said it,” I say.
“Said what?” Poppy asks.
“It. The L-word. I don’t know if he meant for me to hear it.” I’m talking a mile a minute. I’m freaking the fuck out. Not because he said it, but because if I wasn’t pretending to be asleep, I might have said it back. Everything in me wanted to say it back. I didn’t think I’d have to make a rule against saying ‘I love you’ because I thought that was implied, but apparently, I should have. I should have had a goddamned contract lawyer review my rules. There were so. Many. Loopholes. “He thought I was sleeping, and he came home after work, gave me a kiss and whispered it. I love you.”
The moment had felt so tender, so intimate. So fucking terrifying.
“How do you feel?” Ally asks as if that’s the easiest question in the world to answer. Like she just asked me what I ate for breakfast this morning. Which was nothing, because the thought of eating anything for breakfast made me feel like puking.
“I have no clue.” It’s not necessarily a lie. If anything, it’s the most truthful I can be right now. I know how I feel about Grady, but I also know how hard I’ve worked to get to where I am. My heart is torn in two. “The thought of losing everything I’ve worked toward is terrifying. This life is everything I’ve ever wanted. I did this. I created the life I’ve always dreamt of.”
“I don’t think that’s true. I think you’re scared because this is the first time that leaving isn’t what you want. You’re just afraid of the alternative. The risk of doing something different. Of relinquishing some of your control.”
