Page 6 of Last Love

“Let’s make it two.”

There’s an unhappy grumbling that’s followed by throat clearing. “Two it is, Miss Morrison.”

“Perfect!”

“Is there anything else I can do for you this morning?”

Paying for the mover’s cancellation fee – again – out of his own pocket seems to be the only thing I can think of but getting out of paying three months rent should take away a bit of the sting from that. “No, thank you.”

“Very well, have a great day, Miss Morrison.”

“You too.”

As soon as I end the call on my cell, I release a giant exhale.

Well, that was the first true success that I’ve had in fucking weeks.

Ever since the moment I refused Xander’s proposal – proving to me his face can actually express human emotions – and got a letter that I had no clue how to respond to, my life has been like a cinnamon twist of cancellations and inconveniences.

I went from having a place to live to not knowing when I can definitely move out of Katherine’s guesthouse, although Carter doesn’t seem to mind having someone help with Angel pre and post nanny drop in moments since Katherine is now in book launch mode where she won’t be home for more than a weekend here or there.

I went from expecting to watch documentaries about The American Revolution while pretending I didn’t hate spinach, feta cheese, and green olive pizza on Thursdays to eating cold Chinese food in between making lists of things I don’t have but probably should have in my new place.

And I went from anticipating a quick – yet still somewhat satisfying – lay after a day too long for its own good to cursing myself out for somehow misplacing the USB cord to my fucking favorite clit toy.

Practically nothing has been going right.

Even my dry-cleaning order got fucked up!

Usually, Xander would collect all that needed to be cleaned on Friday night, we would drop it off Saturday before the gym or Sunday if he wasn’t in the mood to wait in a line, and then he would pick it up whenever it was ready.

Never any issues.

The first time I did it on own?

They gave me what clearly belonged to a cast of Austin Power impersonators and then argued with me about the order for forty-five minutes before realizing I was right!

I sat in my car and sobbed into an apple fritter I got from the bakery next door afterward.

Not my finest moment.

I know.

What can I say though?

It constantly feels like I’m drowning.

Sure, being with Xander was like going through a well-executed checklist the morning of some magical vacation it’s clear that you’re never actually going to get to, but at least things didn’t always feel like they were failing.

Then again…now that I think about it…I guess I didn’t feel much of anything anymore.

Secure numbness isn’t what anyone should look forward to, let alone miss.

Yet I do.

I miss the strategically planned order of certain days and events. I miss knowing he was going to get out of bed exactly six minutes prior to his phone alarm going off, use his electric toothbrush while listening to an environmental podcast on animals, and do his best to “pee quietly” so that he didn’t wake me up in the process. And while I may not miss him per say, part of me misses the simplicity of knowing the patterned way my day was likely going to unfold.

Katherine previously cycled through terms for this movement in my life.

“Self-Resuscitation” was the first.

Hated it.

Made me feel think hospitals and dying and then of course dying all alone at one hundred and eleven because I couldn’t make it work with someone that I may not have been in love with but was definitely adjusted to.

“Self-Resurrection” was next.

That poor phrasing not only created urges to watch movies like Zombieland while doing monthly behavior reports for the staff but had me spiraling into a line of thinking that I couldn’t survive by myself in a non-apocalyptic world let alone one where flesh eating monsters were chasing me during my crusade for a fucking twinkie.

She finally decided on “Relationship Revolution” during a video chat call in which I watched her drink almost an entire bottle of complimentary champagne while I had to pretend that drinking a virgin mango daiquiri – due to watching Angel because their nanny was sick, and Carter having a business dinner – was delicious. According to her, it was “great branding” that could encompass so many of the new chapters in my life that I’m beginning to explore as well as be used to sell a follow up to the book that recently hit the shelves.

It’s already a New York Times Bestseller, yet I’m still stuck in the weird “what the fuck am I doing?” limbo helping her create it put me in.

Dear Irony…

Fuck. You.

That is all.

All of a sudden, there’s a light knock on my office door that forces me to put on the most professional demeanor possible. “Come in.”

The door cracks open and our school librarian, Jaye Jenkins, peeks her sweet, angelic, brown-skinned face around it. “You busy, boss?” Her fingers nervously grip the door tighter. “It’s okay if you are. I mean you most likely are. You probably have a million things to do to keep the school running so smoothly, which you do! You absolutely do! This is the best place I could ever dream of working! And I know it takes work. A lot of work. You’re probably working, and I’m just eating up time you don’t have. I should go. I can totally come back at the end of the day. It’s not a huge deal! I just was passing by and-”

“How much caffeine have you had today?”

Her nose scrunches as she tries not to laugh.

“Come on in, Jaye,” I politely state on an ushering wave.

She slinks herself inside, fingers fidgeting anxiously with her curly hair. “You sure you don’t mind? I can-”

“What do you need?” Folding my hands politely on top of my desk is followed a warm grin. “What can I do for our beloved librarian?”

“I was just…um….” The combing of the strands grows more frantic, more uneasy. “I was just sort of wondering…,” her voice does its best to find steadiness as her body gravitates closer, “if you got my proposal for the winter charity event yet? I emailed it to you like two weeks ago, but I haven’t heard anything. And I know it’s early – and that it might be too early – but like I didn’t wanna be too late or get lost in a sea of other options, especially because this one is…well, it hits really close to home.”

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