Page 74 of Dear Roomie
I don’t stop him this time as he turns and storms down the hallway. My friend looks between me and his retreating form with wide eyes and a slack jaw. She looks like she wants to say something or maybe chase after him, but she doesn’t do anything more than stare.
Morgan’s door slams shut, the force of it sending shock waves through the walls, causing the hanging frames to rattle and shake. The sound cracks through the air and dies within the same abrupt burst of energy. Silence looms in its stead, leaving nothing but the roaring of my pulse in my ears. It’s a tangible, heavy weight bearing down on all sides of me, constricting the very breath in my lungs.
“Jamie, what the hell is going on?” Her whispered question cracks through the soundless vacuum like a whip.
“Tanner proposed.” My voice is void of emotion. There’s no trace of the heartache or dread those two words fill me with on my tongue, but there’s no joy either. Getting engaged should be one of the happiest moments of my life, not whatever the fuck this is.
“Oh.” She cocks her head to one side and recoils. She shakes away the initial shock and focuses back on me. “And you said yes?” she asks as though she’s trying to put together a puzzle but can’t make the pieces fit.
“Of course I said yes.” I hold out my hand to show her the sparkling manacle on my finger. From the moment Tanner slid it on my hand, I’ve wanted nothing more than to rip it off, but I can’t bring myself to do it. The gaudy bits of metal and stone are too important of a reminder of the promise I made and the ones I’ve broken.
“Oh.” Her face pinches as she processes the news. After a moment, her face relaxes and is masked with false cheer. “The ring is beautiful. When did this happen? How did he do it? Why didn’t you tell me?” She asks the questions that I would expect, but they ring hollow.
“He asked me at the holiday party, and things have been so hectic since that it must have slipped my mind.”
The lie slips easily past my lips as I mirror her facade. A shitty lie is easier than the truth. The truth that I spent the past several days locked in my room, barely eating, while I mourned the future I thought I would have with Morgan. The truth that I didn’t tell her because speaking the words out loud would make them real, and more than anything, I wanted them not to be. The truth that I don’t want this but have no idea how to break things off with Tanner now that I’ve promised myself to him.
She studies my face for several seconds and pulls me into a tight hug.
“It’s going to be okay, Jamie,” she whispers into my hair.
We break apart at the sound of a door slamming against the wall from the hallway.
“What the fuck is this?” Nathan storms down the hallway with a box in one hand and an all-too-familiar canvas in another. I cringe as he tosses the canvas that I spent countless hours perfecting onto the couch without care. He turns over the box, pouring dozens of tiny orange scraps of paper onto the coffee table.
Morgan kept them?
My heart fills and breaks all over again.Of course he kept them. Looking back, it’s easy to see just how oblivious I was to his feelings. Love was present for every moment between us—through every tear and every smile, every touch and every instance of restraint. It’s love that I’ve never once deserved.
He drops the box to the floor and rips one of Morgan’s precious mementos from the table.
“Dear Roomie, Can you take Grover out when you get home? I need to go by office hours, so I’ll be getting back late. Pretty please? I’ll even watch extra nerd shows with you to make it up to you. J”
His face twists into a sneer as he spits my words back at me. He crumples the note, throws it off to the side of the room, and picks up another.
“Dear Roomie, I passed the exam. I couldn’t have done it without your help studying. Seriously, Morgan, thank you. I’m picking up carryout to celebrate. Ishould be home around eight, and I expect you to have our shows queued and ready to go. I’ll grab your normal order. J”
“I gave Morgan shit for falling for you, but you’ve been leading him on this whole time. It’s no wonder why he couldn’t get past his crush. You sunk your claws in and claimed him when you had no right to. It’s fucking cruel, James. But this, this takes the fucking cake.” He holds a familiar letter in his clenched fist and shakes it in my direction. I know those words. I could recite them from memory if he made me.
“I wish I could spend some of today with you.” His voice raises an octave in a harsh imitation of my own. “You are always on my mind. Love, James,” he sneers. “What did you think he was going to take from this?”
“I-I…” I love him, but those aren’t words that can leave my mouth; no words do. I don’t have it in me to fight him anymore. Not when I deserve the verbal lashing.
“That’s enough, Nathan,” Chelsea snaps, wrapping a protective arm around me. “She gets it. Morgan’s sad, and you’re mad. Well, she’s going through something too. You’ve got his stuff, now let’s go.” She never wavers from her low, even tone, but each word is resolute. Her steely gaze bores into him. It’s a challenge, the look daring him to defy her.
For several seconds, the pair stay locked in their silent standoff. He is the first to break. He grabs the stuffed duffel and storms toward the door without another word, slamming it behind him as he finally leaves. Even with him gone, the tension in the room is palpable.
“Just…call me if you need anything, okay?” Chelsea lets out a deep breath and follows her boyfriend out.
The first tear falls as the door clicks shut. Over the past few days, I’ve learned that particular reservoir is fathomless. I can’t tear my eyes from the notes that litter the small table, surrounding the vase of roses and the small package that has sat there untouched since last night.
The roses aren’t red—that would be too impersonal. No, Morgan managed to find some in a perfect shade of blood orange, one that almost captures the color of the sky as the last of the daylight fades away, one that he knew I would love.
I never even got to thank him.
I’m sure whatever is in that box is just as perfect, but I won’t open it until he comes home and I make things right between us.
I tuck his notes back into their box and carry them to his room with the intention of leaving them there for safekeeping, but once I cross that threshold, all of my willpower flees. Without any forethought, I crawl onto that half-deflated mattress and tuck one of his pillows against my chest. His scent is a comfort that fills a small part of the emptiness he’s left inside me, but it doesn’t stop my tears from falling even harder.
