Page 27 of Somewhere Only We Know
PRESENT DAY
The swoosh of an outgoing email fills my quiet office as I send off the three videos to my manager to look over and send off to the company I did some promotional work for. I’ve purposefully kept myself busy and avoided my phone for fear of what could be waiting for me if I unlock it.
It’s been a week since running into Nate while out walking Sully. To say it’s taken me the entirety of seven days to pick myself up off the floor would be an understatement.
I’d be lying to myself if I said seeing him in all his sweaty glory didn’t do something to me. And that fuck ass gold chain he was wearing, made me want yank on it and pull his lips to mine. Trent never sparked that kind of reaction in my body like Nate did. Like I wanted to lose myself in him until we were forced to come up for air. He also wasn’t built like Nate and I think that was another reason why I dated him. He was the polar opposite of Nate and at the time when I needed to move on with my life, I found I needed him. Trent was the artsy, sleep until noon, and smoke a pack of cigarettes a week type of guy and I needed that type of guy more than I needed someone like Nate.
Nate was, and from what I can tell, still is put together and confident and healthy.
But even while dating Trent, and after pushing him to the recesses of my mind—I still missed Nate like I was missing a limb. I missed what he added to my life. Forcing myself to move on from him took more strength than I gave myself credit for. Even more, forcing myself to finally stop thinking about him after three years felt like I was able to wake up one morning without the constant reminder of the ache he left behind.
And I have moved on. Or at least I thought I did until I saw him in his uniform.
I look out of my office window with the view of downtown just behind the row of homes on the back. Part of me wonders if Nate and the team are playing at home or if they’re away. But then I chastise myself because I shouldn’t care. I don’t care. And I’ll continue to tell myself that until it sticks.
I see my phone light up with a call from Kamryn. A tiny part of me wants to ignore her like she did to me all of those years ago. But that would be immature and I’m not grieving the loss of anyone like she was.
I swipe to answer and put it on speaker phone. “Hey.”
“Hi, J,” she says, and I can tell she was preparing for the worst.
“You don’t need to call to check up on me,” I tell her.
Kamryn breathes out a heavy sigh. “Yes I do.”
I click my mouse on my screen and watch the transparent squares appear and then disappear when I lift my finger. I do that over and over. I think Kamryn is trying to make up for lost time, which in my opinion is a lost cause. “Well, I’m okay. So…job well done.”
She snorts. “You can’t get rid of us that easily.”
“Us?”
“Yep. We have goodies for a girls night. So come open your door.” She tells me and hangs up.
I stare at my darkened screen, wondering if it’s actually my brain playing tricks on me until a persistent ringing of my doorbell and Sully’s barking moves me into gear. I shush Sully as I shuffle to the door and whip it open.
There on my front steps are my sister, Emily, Sarah, and Sophie with Vera Bradley weekender bags stuffed to the brim and arms weighed down by food, alcohol, and pillows.
Standing to the side, I nod them in and shut the door as they make their way to the kitchen. Sully trots in front of me with her tail wagging and tongue lolling out of her mouth as she goes to join the girls. As soon as I walk in, a drink is pushed in my hands and music is playing from my TV.
“Spill the beans,” someone, I’m assuming Emily, says.
I take a sip and move to the kitchen island, playing with the stem of my glass obviously stalling. “Nate and I knew each other in college. He was my great, big, first love that people talk about.”
“What!?” Sophie screeches.
“My client Nate?” Sarah asks.
“Yeah.”
A glass is set on the counter and a long exhale is let go.
“Okay, rewind. I’m so confused. How?”
“We met at eighteen and I gave him no choice but to become my best friend.”
“I always thought assface was your first boyfriend,” Sarah says thoughtfully.
I snort and take a healthy sip of the margarita that’s less mix and more tequila. “Nope. Somehow in the three years we were friends, Nate confessed his crush and then after Ipulled my head out of my butt, we were no longer just friends.”
