by M. A. Foster
Jake moves to sit on the edge of the bed, propping his elbows on his knees and dropping his head into his hands. “I don’t know what to say, Vanessa. I made a huge mistake, and I’m sorry. I don’t want to lose you.”
“You should’ve thought about that before you stuck your dick in your ex. You know cheating is—”
“—a deal breaker. Yeah, I got it,” he finishes curtly, lifting his head to look at me. “I know how stubborn you are, so I’m not going to sit here and beg you to stay. If—”
“Oh, screw you, Jake! Save your passive-aggressive bullshit for the next dumbass,” I snap, slamming my suitcase shut. “You cheated on me. Even after everything I shared with you about Liam. Knowing how badly I’d been hurt. It took me three years, Jake. Three years before I was able to let another man into my heart.”
“But you never really let me in.” He shakes his head. “Not all the way. You’re still in love with him.”
“Is that your excuse for being unfaithful? I didn’t make you feel special enough,” I taunt. “You needed the ex to stroke your ego.”
“Fuck you, Vanessa.”
My expression hardens. “If you believed that, then why did you even bother asking me to marry you?”
“Because I love you.”
I breathe out a sarcastic laugh. “I don’t deserve your kind of love.”
Sliding the engagement ring from my finger, I place it on the dresser before grabbing my suitcase and purse and heading for the door.
“Vanessa—”
I stop just inside the doorway, keeping my back to Jake.
“I’m so fucking sorry.” His voice is shaky.
I believe him.
But it changes nothing.
I exhale a ragged breath. “For what it’s worth, me too.”
“What a fucking asshole,” Gabbi shrieks through the speakers.
“Yeah,” I breathe, swiping the tears from my cheeks.
“I’m so sorry, V. Want me to conference in Katie and Kennedy?”
Gabbi, Kennedy, and I have been best friends since ninth grade. When Katie transferred to our private school sophomore year, our trio became the fab four. They’re my hos before bros, my ride or die, my tribe. Gabbi is the protective one, always down for a verbal ass-kicking. Kennedy is the mother hen. Katie is quiet and only speaks her mind when necessary. And currently, I’m the hot mess.
“No, I just needed to vent for a minute. I’m pissed off and numb right now, but I know the worst is still to come.” The pain I’ll feel when the numbness wears off. I take a shaky breath. “I don’t understand why this keeps happening to me. Is there no such thing as a faithful man anymore?”
“They’re mythical creatures,” she says dryly. “They only exist in fairy tales.”
I snort a laugh.
“What can I do?” she asks. “Do you want me to drive over?”
“Thanks for the offer, babe, but I’ll be okay. I’ve survived worse.”
“Listen, my brother is going out of town, but I’m happy to send my cousins over there to kick his ass.”
I know she’s only half kidding.
I snort. “Thanks, but that’s not necessary.”
“Okay,” she drawls. “Let me know if you change your mind. I know people.”
“You’re starting to scare me,” I quip.
She makes a “Hmm” sound. “So what’s the plan?”
“I have to finish out my contract, so I’m staying with Nancy until then.” After I filled Nancy in on what went down with Jake, she insisted I stay with her until my contract was up. “Then I’m coming home.”
“Why don’t you come this weekend? My brother got Katie and me tickets to the Royal Mayhem concert. I’m sure he has an extra one. And my parents are going all out this year for the Fourth of July. There’ll be fireworks.” She sings the last part.
“I wish I could, but I have to work.”
“Boring.” She sighs. “Have you talked to your dad?”
“Not yet. He’s my next phone call.”
“Oh damn. What I’d give to be on the line for that call.”
“I’m gonna kick that motherfucker’s ass,” my dad seethes into the phone.
“As much as he deserves it, Dad, I’d prefer to keep you out of jail. He’s not worth it.”
“Come home,” he insists.
“I can’t.” I sigh. “I still have almost two months left on my contract, and I’m not going to let Dr. Douchebag ruin everything I’ve worked for.”
My dad barks out a laugh. “Here I’d been calling him a prick all this time, but I like Dr. Douchebag much better. You always were a witty one, baby girl. Where are you staying? Do you need money to get your own place?”
“I have my own money, but I’m staying with Nancy until my contract is up.” I clear the emotion from my throat. “Then I’m coming home.” A single tear slips from the corner of my eye, and I quickly wipe it away.
Dad stays quiet for a moment. “You gonna be okay, Vannie?” he asks, his tone soft.
“I’m okay, Dad.” I sniff. “I’m just hurt.”
“I know I raised you to be tough, but you’re still human. It’s okay to feel hurt. That sonofabitch isn’t worth your tears, but if you need to cry, then cry. I just hate that I’m not there to wipe away your tears.”
AUGUST
VANESSA
Oak Lane is my favorite street in Magnolia Park where I grew up. The street is aptly named due to the massive oak trees lining both sides of the road. The sidewalks are uneven and cracked from the thick, exposed roots. The full branches are entwined high above, shading the entire street like a tree tunnel. It reminds me of my childhood, when life was simple.
Today is my twenty-sixth birthday and, ironically, the day I hit the reset button on my life.
After six of the longest weeks ever, I packed up my car, hugged Nancy goodbye, and headed home.
Seeing Jake every day was hell on my heart and my sanity. I wasn’t sure I could finish out my contract, but Nancy, being the wonderful boss she is, tacked on my vacation to the end of my contract, shortening my time by two weeks. She also switched my schedule so I wouldn’t have to see Jake as much.
Last night, I met Jake and LJ for dinner at our favorite pizza place. I owed Jake nothing, but I couldn’t just leave him the way I had Liam. Jake and I weren’t the only ones in our relationship; I had LJ to consider, and it isn’t his fault his dad is a lying, cheating asshole. I love that little boy, and leaving him was probably the hardest part of walking away from my relationship.
During dinner, LJ filled me in on everything I missed since I moved out; his first day of school, his new friends, and that his daddy has been spending the night at his house with him and his mommy. Oh, and he’s getting a new brother or sister. Yeah, that last one stung. I kept a smile plastered to my face as little Jake divulged this information as if he were telling me the sky is blue, but I didn’t miss Jake’s flinch out of the corner of my eye.
Gotta love kids, man.
I shouldn’t have been surprised since he’d been screwing her behind my back for the entire two years of our relationship. But still, that little piece of news had been like a punch to the solar plexus. Especially since Jake had been texting me for the last six weeks begging me to come back and give him another chance.
Asshole.
After dinner, I pulled LJ into my lap, wrapped him in a tight hug, and told him how much I loved him. And when he curled his tiny arms around my neck to hug me back, I propped my chin on the top of his head, narrowed my eyes at Jake, mouthed, “Fuck you,” and gave him my middle finger just to drive the point home. Our breakup had been painful, but I was so relieved it was finally over.
And this morning when Jake texted me Happy birthday, I replied with a middle finger emoji. If I hadn’t told LJ last night that he could call me whenever he wanted, I would’ve blocked Jake’s number right after dinner.
My thoughts and Dua Lipa’s “IDGAF” are interrupted by the sound of my phone ringing through
the Bluetooth. “Dad” flashes on the screen of my radio. I press the button on the steering wheel. “Hey, Dad.”
“Hey, honey, it’s Kelly. Happy birthday to you,” my dad’s girlfriend sings into the phone, and an instant smile spreads across my face. She’s so sweet. “Your dad wanted me to get you on the phone— Oh, wait, here he is. He’s washing his hands. Let me put it on speaker.”
“Happy birthday, Vannie,” my dad calls out over the sound of running water.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Did you make it to Gabbi’s okay?”
“I’m just pulling into the parking garage now.”
“What are your plans for the weekend?”
“To get drunk and talk shit with my best friends” is on the tip of my tongue, but I’ll spare my poor father the heart attack.
I smile to myself. “I don’t know. Probably get into trouble as always,” I tease. “You know Gabbi.”
He chuckles. “I do know Gabbi. What about Katie?”
“Katie will be with us, too. Her thing is tomorrow night.”
“All right. Behave yourselves. Have a good time, and be safe.”
“Of course we will.”
“I made reservations for the three of us at Oceanside Grill for your birthday dinner on Sunday. The reservation is for six o’clock. If you need me to change it, please let me know sooner than later.”
I park my X5 in one of the spots designated for visitors. Gabbi lives in the village, which is in the heart of Magnolia Park, just minutes from the neighborhood where I grew up.
“Six is perfect. I’ll probably be home early afternoon on Sunday. Love you.”
“Love you, too. Enjoy your birthday weekend. Call if you need anything.”
“Thank you, and I will. See you on Sunday. Bye, Dad.”
My car is packed with everything I own, minus the furniture and accessories I left behind with Jake. Grabbing the small suitcase and my bag from the front passenger seat, I lock my car and head to the elevator, taking it up to the second floor to Gabbi’s condo.
“Sweet but Psycho” blares from inside Gabbi’s home, and I snicker to myself at how the title accurately describes my best friend. It should be her theme song.
I knock on the door, and a moment later, the music stops. The door swings open, and my mouth gapes at the sight of my three best friends standing in the doorway.
“Happy birthday!” they all shout at the same time.
Emotion bubbles in my chest, and I burst into tears. It’s been a long time since the four of us were together, and if there’s ever been a time I need my best friends, it’s right now.
“Aww, Vanessa,” Gabbi soothes, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and steering me inside. “Boys don’t deserve our tears,” she adds, repeating the advice my dad gave us when we were in middle school.
“I’ll grab her stuff,” Katie offers.
I shake my head as the door shuts behind me. Using the backs of my hands, I swipe the tears from my face and wipe them down the front of my jean shorts. “I’m not crying over Jake,” I say. “I’m just really happy to see you guys.”
“You okay?” Kennedy asks, passing me a champagne flute.
“Yeah,” I breathe before taking a sip and wincing at the bitter taste.
Kennedy laughs. “It tastes like shit, right?” She points to Gabbi. “You had one job.”
Gabbi gives a noncommittal shrug. “It’ll get the job done, so drink up and quit your bitching.”
I turn my attention to Kennedy. “What are you doing in town?”
Kennedy currently lives in New York, where she’s finishing up her law degree.
Curling an arm around my shoulders, she says, “I was already coming for Katie’s thing tomorrow night, but Gabbi said you were coming home today. I switched my flight so I could be here to surprise you for your birthday.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” I tell her before turning my attention to the living room, taking in the balloons and trays of appetizers set out on the coffee table. “What’s all this?”
“It’s your birthday slash welcome back party,” Gabbi says, throwing her hands out to her sides. “Surprise.”
I snort and shake my head. “Thank you.”
Gabbi grabs two champagne glasses from the coffee table and passes one to Katie before raising hers in the air. “Happy birthday, Vanessa,” she cheers.
“Here’s to best friends,” Kennedy says.
“And to starting over,” Katie adds.
“And to Dr. Douchebag,” I say, tapping my glass to Gabbi’s and prompting all three of them to laugh. “May his regret taste as shitty as this champagne.”
And just like that, I’m back in high school. Justin Bieber’s “Boyfriend” blares through the Bluetooth speaker as the four of us dance around Gabbi’s bedroom while we’re getting ready to go out for the night.
I fall back on Gabbi’s bed in my bra and panties, waiting for my turn in the mirror. Jesse McCartney’s “Beautiful Soul” starts playing, and I grin. My eyes flick to Katie, who beams back at me. Gabbi and Kennedy are die-hard “Beliebers,” but Jesse’s the real OG. Don’t get me wrong, Justin is a total hottie when he’s not sporting that ugly-ass pornstache. Still, Katie and I would take Jesse and his beautiful fucking soul over Justin any day.
Over a bottle of shitty champagne, I bring Kennedy and Katie up to speed on all the drama that’s happened since the night Jake proposed. Katie and Gabbi came to Private Affair that night to celebrate my engagement. Gabbi and I talk almost every day, so she already knows everything. Katie and I usually do, too, but she’s been tied up with an important project that has her working long hours, and I didn’t want to weigh her down with my drama. Same goes for Kennedy, who’s hyper-focused on finishing law school.
“I’m beginning to think the problem is me,” I admit. “My relationships expire after two years.”
Gabbi turns from the floor-length mirror with a curling iron wrapped in her hair. “It’s not you,” she argues. “Men are just dicks.”
Can’t argue with that. All four of us have experienced a shitty relationship or two. Some worse than others.
“Think about it.” I push myself up onto my elbows. “I was with Liam for two years. We got married and then bam, relationship over. I was with Jake for two years, we got engaged, and bam, relationship over again. I’m good enough to marry, just not good enough to be faithful to.”
“I believe it’s a coincidence,” Kennedy says.
“What do you think is worse? Emotional cheating or physical cheating?”
Kennedy and Gabbi pause, and Katie moves to stand at the threshold of the bathroom. All three of them seem to be contemplating their answers.
I’m not the least bit shocked that Gabbi is the first one to speak up. “I’m going to say physical.” I open my mouth to ask her why, but she holds up her hand. “I know emotional cheating likely leads to physical cheating, more often than not, but what if it never gets that far? What if the two people realize they’re better off as friends?” I narrow my eyes. I know what she’s doing. “I have male friends.” She shrugs. “I’ve also slept with men I knew were dating other women, and I was fine with it because it was just sex. But if I was in a committed relationship with a man and he had sex with another woman, the relationship would be over. It’s not just the act itself, it’s the betrayal and the slew of insecurities that come with it. Some partners are more forgiving than others, and that’s okay. I don’t judge people who choose to fight for love. We all make mistakes, and we either learn from them and move on, or we just move on. When I found out the jackass had been cheating on me, a seed of doubt had been planted and my insecurities grew. I spent months wondering what was wrong with me. Was I too fat? Was I ugly? Did I suck in bed? He didn’t just break my heart, he stripped me of my confidence.”
“What you fail to understand is cheating isn’t even about you, it’s about them and their insecurities,” Kennedy interjects as she steps into her skinny jeans and pul
ls them over her noticeably slimmer hips.
“You look like you’ve lost weight,” I tell her, pointing at her.
“It’s called the low-carb law school diet.” Kennedy snorts, cupping her boobs. “I hope I get my boobs back before the wedding.”
Kennedy has been engaged to her college boyfriend, Adam, since he proposed at their college graduation co-party, but she’s put all wedding plans on hold until she graduates from law school next year.
“Hey, squirrels.” Gabbi snaps her fingers and bugs her eyes out at us. “I wasn’t done.” I grin and Kennedy rolls her eyes as Gabbi continues. “What I’m saying—and this is just from my own personal experience—is that I couldn’t go back. I’d always wonder if he was going to do it again.” She shakes her head. “Never again. It took me a long time to recover, and I love myself too much to ever let a man put me through that again.”
I breathe out a soft laugh because the girl does love herself. Gabbi is beautiful and petite. What she lacks in height, she makes up for with her fierce attitude, a thick mane of hair the color of honey, and a set of boobs women pay good money for. But it’s not just her looks or big boobs that has men falling at her feet, it’s her confidence—or should I say newfound confidence. And she has a point. There’s no way I could ever be with Jake again after knowing he’d physically slept with another woman while he was sharing a bed with me.
“If your man is seeking something in another woman, whether it be sex or friendship,” Kennedy drawls, giving me a pointed look, “then there is something wrong with the relationship.”
I shrug because Kennedy’s right, too. I had every right to be upset with Liam for spending time with Milana.
My gaze moves to Katie as she steps from the bathroom while pulling a shirt over her head, the quarter-length sleeves covering the angry pink scar trailing from her shoulder down to her elbow. The worst scars are the ones you can’t see, and suddenly I feel like shit for being a whiny bitch.
“I hate to sound like a man-hater,” Katie interjects, “but this is why I don’t do relationships. Every single relationship I’ve ever had ended badly. The last one being the worst.” My heart twists painfully in my chest because, damn, if that’s not an understatement of a lifetime.