Page 113 of Rewrite the Rules

“Maybe we try something new tonight. And in the spirit of new, I should tell you, I quit my job.”

“What? Are you—”

“Not just because of Joel…I want to write for real. To give this version of myself a fighting chance. I want to put everything into this and see where it goes. Whether I sink or swim.” It took a jackhammer to the heart to realize it, but everything I’ve done at Aura is procrastination. I’ve been running from my destiny, but no more.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I think it’s time to have a little faith in myself. Plus, if my writing career totally tanks, I’m sure Sabin Technologies could use another secretary, right? Would you refer me?”

“I think I could arrange a job.” Quinn’s recent promotion to Chief Marketing Officer means she holds more power than most at her dad’s company. Surely, she could wrestle up some paperwork for me.

“Thank you.” I sigh in relief. Leaping always feels a little less scary when there is a safety net twenty feet below. “Let the Joel purge begin.”

Quinn slides off my bed and holds out her hand for my empty bottle. “Speaking of which, block his number.”

“Why?”

“Because tonight we’re getting drunk and youwillwant to talk to him. There has never been a time in the history of the world a woman regretsnotcalling her ex during a night of binge drinking.”

I follow her down the stairs, flicking on the lights, allowing some life back into my apartment. The last time I didn’t listen to Quinn I got myself into this mess. So, I grab my phone and change Joel (with a heart) back to Mr. Lewis before I block his number. I have no missed calls or text messages from him. Maybe he’s started his Addie cleanse as well.

My door swings opens and Reese’s curly blonde tendrils dance wildly around her face as she rushes into the apartment, takeout bags in hand. “Bear.” She throws her arms around my neck, wrapping me up in a breast-flattening hug. “Do we need to kill him?” she asks Quinn.

“Jury’s still out,” she responds flatly.

“Ow,” I complain but Reese doesn’t let go.

It’s not too much longer before Mani and Noa pile through the door. We all find our places on my sofa, my sitting chair, on the floor. With Mani here our family feels complete. We huddle around my coffee table and break open samosas and twist open the giant bottle of premade sangria.

“Why do we bother trying to make our own sangria when this bottled stuff is way better?” Reese asks.

Everyone chimes in, but no one has a good response.

“Because...actually I don’t—”

“We’ve always just—”

“Does anyone even like sangria? How the hell did this even get started?”

I smile as this evening starts feeling oddly like every other girls’ night we’ve ever had. Somehow, despite the heartbreak, I find joy in this moment. I find solace in the friendships that have carried me this far and will continue to carry me forever.

As I snuggle into my couch between my family, I silently hope someday Joel will find a way to have the same thing that I have right in front of me. A relationship that always comes through, that endures every surprise curveball, every up and down—one that never ever has to end.

thirty-eight

Joel

january

My dad is aging in reverse. Unless I’m imagining it, he’s far less gray than he used to be.

I successfully evaded the holidays with my family this year, much to everyone’s annoyance. I wasn’t motivated to travel. For the past few weeks I’ve not been motivated to do much of anything.

Adler and I haven’t spoken. Not one word, except the resignation letter she promptly sent the Monday after our breakup. I really thought we’d patch things up at the office after cooling down for a few days, but she never came back. She put in her notice and then opted to spend her final two weeks using all the vacation time she’d banked over the past few years. She quit everything at once—her job, our relationship, our friendship. Adler effectively ejected me from her life in one fell swoop.

She even went as far as blocking my number. I try to call her every night after work, just to see if anything has changed. Every night I have hope that maybe she’s changed her mind, but my call is always rejected. I can’t leave a voicemail. I can’t send a text. I’d stop by her place, but if she doesn’t want to talk to me, I can’t imagine she’ll want to see me.

I’ve never been on this side of the breakup. I normally feel relief when my relationships are over, not empty like this. I keep waiting for it to fade.

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