Page 2 of Surrender

I turn on my heel, grab my bag and car fob to head for the door.

“Ava. Ava, wait. Please wait.” Vince’s bare feet pad loudly against the tile as he rushes to push the door closed with his hand just over my head.

“What the hell am I waiting for? To be humiliated more? Fuck that! To think I was feeling like shit for coming over here to do what I’m about to do right now.” I slide my two-karat, round-cut solitaire off my finger and hold it up in front of him. “Take it.”

“No, Ava. I gave that to you. It’s yours.”

“It’s mine? What a joke. What a joke this all is. How long, Vince? How fucking long?”

“A couple months. It just sort of happened.”

“I should have known you’d use some lame-ass excuse like that. Where did you learn it? From one of your twenty-year-old players? Come on, it’s bullshit and you know it.”

“Okay, it’s bullshit. I need to know what you meant by you were feeling like shit for coming over here to do what you were going to do.”

“I was coming here to call off the engagement. I can’t do this anymore. We can’t do this anymore. At least I was going to be aboveboard about it and not sneak the fuck around on you, which I’m not. Clearly I’m the only one.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you. I do love you.”

“People who love each other respect the other person enough to set them free. So, if you love me, let me go.”

Vince takes two steps back from me and the door, shoves both his hands in his pockets, and stares into my eyes. “I do love you. I’m not in love with you anymore.”

I glance back at Melissa standing pale and awkward, trying to cover herself with her arms. “I’ll arrange a time to pick up my things.”

I pull the door open, walking back out into the world. It looks different than it did five minutes ago. I thought I knew who I was engaged to. I don’t. I never thought he would cheat on me. He did. I’m angry. I feel stupid that I was feeling so guilty for wanting to be honest with him when he did nothing but deceive me.

My car door closes simultaneously with starting the engine. After I’ve pulled away from the curb and back on the highway, even though I’m back in the wicked rush-hour traffic that engulfs the entire city of Atlanta, I feel oddly free.

I don’t have this boulder of what-ifs sitting on my shoulders.

Could it be time for me to replace them with possibilities?

Only time will tell.

“I’m gonna kill him. Not just maim, straight-up dead.”

“Syl, please. Just let it go. I told you why I was going there. Did I want the humiliation of it? No, hell no, but the end result would have been the same. I’m back to being single.”

Sylvia pours me another glass of wine, setting the bottle back down on the table harder than I think she intended. I love this girl so much. Sylvia Garcia and I met during my freshman year of college. She was on the cheer squad with me for two years. It was nice to have a friend a couple of years older than me on my first day of classes.

We spent the week before school in a cheer camp. Syl and I hit it off immediately. At first I thought she was a bit standoffish. What I didn’t see initially was her sense of humor. She is quite literally the funniest person I know. It’s nice to have her with me, especially now.

How she landed in Atlanta was a complete accident. She was in a total dead-end job back home. Last year, after she put her notice in, I told her to come stay with me for a couple of weeks to clear her head. I don’t think she was in town for more than thirty-six hours and she told me she wasn’t going to leave.

My landlord, who is an absolute angel, let me upgrade to a two-bedroom, one floor up, and add Syl to the lease. Ever since, she’s been Thelma to my Louise. My ride or die. Now she wants to kill for me.

“I’m actually pissed at myself for allowing my radar to be so damn off. Pedazo de mierda.”

I want to laugh. I nearly do. When she gets heated, the Spanish flows hot and fast. It’s one of my favorite things about her. Her father has told me on many an occasion, she is just like her abuela. Hot-headed, spicy, and watch her left hook. Now, if I cared, I should pass that on to Vince. I have a feeling there is nothing I can say that would persuade her to do anything else.

“I just want to pack up his personal things and think about what I want to do next. At least you can stop looking for a new roommate. I didn’t really have a plan other than what the shower led to.”

“Girl, the only pressing issue is stopping your name from going on that mortgage, which that son of a bitch better do without so much as a word. Other than that, do you need a plan? I love you, but damn. I know your job requires you to be fifteen steps ahead of everyone and everything. Why does your personal life have to do that? I’m going to go old school on you. I’m tossing down a dare.”

“Oh fuck. The last time you did that, I had to talk real fast to two cops to keep us out of jail.”

“That’s your fault. If you’d only let me flirt with them, like I wanted to do in the first place, it would have never gotten that far.”

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