Page 92 of Caught A Vibe

“What?”

Nicola jumps back into the conversation. “How did it get to be the final straw? Why was there a pile of straw in the first place?”

“Because he’s a messy slob who was pumping me for article fodder while keeping me sidetracked with his video games and stupid quarantine hobbies?” I snark.

“Or is it because you still bottle your frustration up inside, determined to stay in control, so you can pretend everything is fine and not get hurt? Instead of having clear and open conversations with clothes on to address things that annoy you and setting respectful boundaries?” Nic tosses back. “No, surely that couldn’t be it.”

Working with your ex-lover and best friend of ten years is a real bitch sometimes. Because, dammit, she is right.

“Fine. Yes, I let things build up, and no, I probably wasn’t in the best frame of mind when I confronted him. With everything going on right now, maybe I just don’t have it in me for that kind of commitment.”

“You didn’t have it in you seven years ago either,” Nicola mutters. “What did he want you to do that was so frustrating?”

“Ooooh, I hope it’s juicy. Was he into bondage? Did he tie you up for hours?” Emmie, always quick to take it somewhere dirty, butts in.

“No. He…wanted me to play games with him.” I try to find examples that won’t make me sound like a fool but pickings are slim.

“OoOoOoh, sexy games?” Emmie asks again, wiggling her eyebrows. “Should I go get a bubbly lime water for this?”

“No, like video games. If he was reviewing one or just playing, he’d offer to set up a second player for me. And then I’d lose an hour or two to a video game.” I try to explain, but hearing it out loud, it does sound ridiculous.

“He wanted to spend time with you, enjoying a leisure activity. How very DARE he!” Jen teases.

“Shut up.” They want details? I’ll give them details. “The real problem was the mess! He’s like a toddler dropping his shit everywhere in my apartment. His hoodie on the couch, dirty dishes in the sink, food on the table. He was just…everywhere! I mean he couldn’t even remember to take the laundry out of the washer! I felt like I was having to clean up after him the entire time just to keep my apartment functional.”

“Yeah, doing all of the work for him and then kicking him out instead of discussing your concerns really made the situation easier on you. Remind me, who is doing all the housework now that you’re alone?”

I’m about done with Nicola’s tone of voice. “Whatever I say right now, you are going to tell me I’m wrong, aren’t you?”

“You’ve always been a smart one,” she tosses back.

“Except when she’s being an idiot,” Emmie chimes in cheerfully.

It is really tempting to slap my computer shut and walk away, but I cannot indulge in any more bridge burning. The first one is still too hot to touch.

“So I should have just added ‘personal maid’ to my already exhausting list of duties and kept cleaning up after him?” I ask.

“No. You should have told him you hate cleaning up after him when it first became an issue, and brainstormed ways to handle it.”

“But it was still so early in the relationship. I didn’t want to push him away by asking him to help me more.” I’ll be honest with myself even if I can’t say it out loud to my friends. I was afraid to ask him for more, because every time I have asked a friend, a partner, a parent for more support, it has ended badly.

“Play that one back in your head.” Nic pauses. “Do you hear it now?”

Dammit. I do.I pushed him away because I didn’t want to push him away. It makes zero sense, but emotions don’t always make sense, and I am drowning in them.

“Why are you so adamant that I acknowledge that I screwed this up? I did. There. I clearly don’t have the time or emotional bandwidth to successfully handle a relationship. I would have screwed it all up sooner or later.” Dash’s impression of the sea witch leaps into my head, and I don’t know if I want to laugh or cry. “This is what I do. He’s better off without me.”

“Did you ask him if he wanted that? He seemed happy,” Nic points out.

“Was he though? Was he happy that I was harping on him all the time?”

Zarah shrugs. “I don’t know how he was feeling, but you seemed so much happier with him than with any of your past partners. We would hate to see you lose this because of stress over the company,” she adds, concern clear on her face. Jen nods next to her.

“Screw the company. They’re just some sex toys.” Nic’s temper is getting shorter the longer this conversation goes on.

“No, they are not!” I explode with frustration. “It’s the company I built that employs all of my best friends. If it folds, everyone I love will be out of a job! I will be a failure.”

“No, the company will fail, and you will learn from it. There’s a difference. Can we just acknowledge what you’ve achieved to get us here, Ms. Forbes-Thirty-Under-Thirty, and that no one could have predicted a global pandemic messing everything up? Stop beating yourself up, and own your wins. As for putting your friends out on the street, don’t hide behind us. We are all resilient, well-educated women who will land on our feet, just like a certain brilliant CEO I know. What is behind this really?”

---