Secondhand Boyfriends

by Jessa Jeffries

  “Oh, geez,” Claudia said as she rolled her eyes. “And it says?”

  IS EVERYTHING OKAY? CAN WE TALK?

  I read it aloud to her.

  “What are you going to say?” she asked. “Do you even want to talk to him?”

  “I don’t know,” I said as I bit my nails. “I don’t know if I can believe anything he says anymore.”

  “Well, he didn’t exactly lie to you about Ayla,” she said.

  “He lied by omission. Same thing,” I countered.

  “True.”

  Without giving it another thought, I reached down and shut my phone off.

  “I’m taking a technology hiatus for a while,” I said.

  “Good for you,” Claudia said as she turned back to her T.V. show.

  “Maybe that will teach him a thing or two,” I hoped out loud.

  A part of me still didn’t want to believe that Bennett was a creep. I wanted to believe we could make it work and that we still had a chance, but I wasn’t going to be a pushover.

  I climbed up from the chair and headed back to my room. I had laundry to do. I had books to catch up on. I wanted to go for a mind-clearing jog.

  ***

  Monday morning couldn’t have started out any worse than it did. I’d forgotten to turn my alarm on the night before. When I woke up at 7:40, I scrambled out of bed as if the apartment was on fire and jumped in the shower. My hair was greasy from the weekend, but I didn’t have time to wash it and I refused to go to work with wet hair. I doused it in dry shampoo, which only made it worse, and pulled it back into a disgustingly oily chignon.

  I slipped on a pair of wrinkly slacks and a button down blouse, grabbed a granola bar and my purse, and headed to work.

  I sneaked in the back door and stopped at the coffee station in the office. If anyone had noticed I wasn’t at my desk yet, maybe I could pretend I’d been getting coffee the whole time? Because everyone knows sometimes it can take an extra fifteen or twenty minutes to get coffee.

  I’d worked for the Harrisville Tribune for three years, and had never once been late for work. I’d only called in a handful of times. My record was almost spotless. I could only hope that today wouldn’t tarnish that.

  With a cup of black office sludge in my hand, I bee lined it for my desk and fired up my computer as fast as I possibly could. My eyes scanned the room for any hint that Julianne was making her morning rounds. The coast was clear, thank goodness.

  Several minutes later, immersed in my emails, I heard the familiar click of Julianne’s heels coming towards me. I spun around in my chair and planted my signature professional smile on my face.

  “Good morning,” I said to her. I was feeling less than chipper on the inside, but I didn’t want her to know that.

  The look on her face was nothing short of disgust and a little bit of terror as she saw my wrinkled, frumpy get up and my greasy, half-assed up do. She was not used to ever seeing me look anything less than polished.

  Her brows furrowed as she stared a few seconds too long. I was waiting for her to give me some sort of lecture on professionalism and dressing the part.

  “Olivia,” Julianne said as she braced herself on my desk. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  I closed my eyes as I waited for the lecture to start.

  “We’re going to feature Ayla’s wedding in the Lifestyle insert for the Sunday paper,” she said. “I think it would be a big draw and give us that extra push for readership.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “It’s going to be a beautiful wedding. It should be featured.”

  “We want to target readers from 20-25,” she continued. “Your age group.”

  “I see.”

  “Which is why I would like you to do the write up,” she said, her lips slowly curling into an excited smile.

  “What?” I said as I nearly jumped out of my seat. “I figured I had a few more years yet before you’d let me write anything!”

  Julianne laughed. “This is your shot, kid. I’m giving you a chance to prove yourself.”

  “Thank you!” I said. I wanted to hug her, but I knew it wouldn’t be appropriate.

  “It’s also my way of thanking you for taking Ayla under your wing,” she said. “She mentioned you two have gotten together a couple times now. I think she really likes talking to you.”

  “Really?” I was a little flabbergasted, but I wasn’t going to admit that.

  Julianne nodded. “I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true.”

  “It’s nice to make new friends,” I lied through my teeth. I didn’t consider Ayla a friend. Not yet. She was more like a resource.

  “Of course, since you’ll be writing about her wedding, you’ll need to actually attend her wedding,” Julianne said. “Bring that cute guy you brought to the banquet. I’m sure Ayla wouldn’t mind if you brought a date.”

  “Are… you… sure?” I asked. I wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but I refused to go alone.

  “Absolutely!” Julianne insisted. “So the wedding is the second Saturday in April. Obviously you have all the details in your files, but if you could show up beforehand while they’re getting ready and interview both Sam and Ayla, I think that would be really sweet. We’ll have a photographer there too to snap some candids. I think this is going to be a great piece in the weekly. Probably one of our top pieces of the year!”

  Julianne walked off with a smile across her face and her eyes in a daze as she probably fantasized about winning another award or boosting sales above and beyond the anticipated margins for the year. She always aimed high no matter what, and it almost always worked out for her. She was savvy, and I admired that about her.

  The moment Julianne and her infectious energy left my cubicle, my eyes filled with tears. Sam was really getting married. Bennett may or may not work out for me. The reality that was my life was really starting to hit me.

  “Olivia, you all right?” I heard Michael say as he approached my desk.

  I wasn’t in the mood to deal with him.

  “Yeah,” I said as I smiled and tried to fight my misty eyes. With a smile, sad tears could easily look like happy ones.

  “Why are you crying?” He looked puzzled.

  “Julianne just offered me a chance to write a major piece for the Lifestyle weekly,” I said. “I’m just really happy.”

  Michael’s eyes moved from side to side, as if he didn’t think it was that big of a deal. He was the kind of guy who’d be perfectly happy writing about movies every single day for the rest of his life.

  “That’s, um, great,” he said.

  To my pleasant surprise, he walked off. I didn’t even have to tell him I was busy. Tears, female tears, must have made him terribly uncomfortable.

  I glanced at my calendar. There were only four more weeks until the wedding. Four more weeks until I’d lose Sam forever. Four more weeks until I would be forced to move on with my life with no backup plan of any sort.

  Selfishly, I wanted to make it work with Bennett. Doesn’t every girl believe she’s going to be the one to change a man? To fix all of his issues? He was everything I’d ever wanted in a guy, and I was going to prove to him that I could be everything he needed in a girl.

  I dug my phone from my purse and switched it on for the first time since Saturday. The screen instantly filled with various alerts. As I rifled through them all, I counted no less than four missed calls from Bennett and five texts.

  He likes me, I thought as I smiled and clutched my phone against my chest. He’s got to, or else he wouldn’t have contacted me so much.

  Hope flooded my every pore as I read his texts and listened to his voicemails. They were all apologies. They were all begging me to call him and talk to him. How could I say no?

  I decided right then and there that I was going to pop over to his place right after work. Then I remembered what I looked like. I couldn’t let him see me looking all crazy. I had no other choi
ce but to go home after work, shower, and then stop over at his place with dinner in hand. That sounded like a much better idea.

  CHAPTER 18

  As I carried two hot, plastic bags of Chinese takeout towards Bennett’s apartment, I crossed my fingers that he was going to be home. I was taking a chance, I knew that, and I wanted it to go smoothly.

  I imagined the smile that would spread across his face the moment he saw me. I imagined him wrapping his big, strong, manly arms around me, squeezing me tight, and pulling me into his warm embrace. We’d laugh and smile and say our quick apologies and move on.

  In my head, that’s exactly how it was going to go. That’s how it was supposed to go. It could go no other way. That’s why when I approached his building, the last thing I expected to see was Sam standing on the front stoop.

  From half a block away, I saw him look at me. He turned his entire body the other way, as if to avoid me. He pulled his phone from his pocket and pretended to check something. He was going to completely ignore me if he could.

  “Sam,” I said, slightly breathless, as I approached. “Hi!”

  As excited as I was to see Bennett, I was suddenly excited to see Sam as well. And the fact that he wanted nothing to do with me made me feel like I had to prove something to him. I would’ve given anything for him to look at me the way he used to, just one time.

  He turned towards me, slowly, lowered his phone, and stuck his hands in his pockets. His face was solemn and lacked any sort of expression I could even attempt to read.

  “Why are you here, Olivia?” he asked. I could sense a little bit of anger on his end.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked with a laugh. I held up the white plastic bags filled with now lukewarm Chinese takeout and showed him. “I’m bringing dinner to Bennett.”

  Sam rolled his eyes. “Why am I suddenly running into you all over the place? It’s like I can’t go anywhere anymore. I can’t even stand outside my apartment without seeing you.”

  “Hey,” I said with frown. “I did not come here hoping to see you.”

  I could tell he didn’t believe me at all.

  “I swear,” I insisted. “How would I know you’d be standing out here when I walked up?”

  He raised his eyebrows and scuffed his shoe on the ground. He knew I had a point.

  “I’m getting married in a month, Olivia,” he said. “Don’t do this to me. Please.”

  “Don’t do what?” I was confused.

  “Toy with me,” he said. His eyes turned towards mine and we locked gazes. “You really hurt me. And just when I’m about to move on from you forever, you’re popping up all over the place. It can’t all be coincidence. It’s happening way too much lately.”

  I laughed nervously. “Maybe it’s a sign?”

  “I’m not joking, Olivia,” he said through gritted teeth. “I love Ayla. I’m going to marry her.”

  “Are you happy, Sam?” I asked. “Like really, really happy? Or are you just trying to get over me?”

  “Wow,” he said. “I can’t believe you’d actually say that. Um, I’m extremely happy, Olivia.”

  His words stung, but I knew deep down I needed to hear them. He had moved on, and I knew I needed to as well.

  “I’m happy for you, Sam. I really am,” I said. “But I guess I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I always thought we’d end up together.”

  He looked up at me, his eyes filled with a mix of rage and hurt. “Why would you tell me that? Why would you say that right now?”

  “I’m just being honest,” I said. “To find out that you had moved on, that you were getting married, just hit me like a ton of bricks.”

  “You didn’t want me before,” he said. “Why now?”

  “I don’t want you, Sam,” I lied. I’d be doing a lot of that lately.

  He shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Okay so maybe seeing you with someone else sort of made me realize that I’d thrown away a good thing,” I admitted. “I’ve had a year to date other people and figure out what I want out of life. My life hasn’t been the same without you in it. No one puts up with me the way you did.”

  Sam let out a snort of a laugh. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “You were a great boyfriend,” I said with a wistful smile. “I didn’t deserve you.”

  I took a step towards him. I wanted to hug him. I knew he was moving on, but I didn’t want to leave him thinking I was some stalker ex or that I was trying to sabotage his happiness.

  “How about a hug?” I asked as I shrugged my shoulders.

  Sam paused for a second to think about it and then nodded a couple times. I sat the food down on the steps, walked over to him, and wrapped my arms around him. I thought about how it was probably going to be the last time I could ever hold him like that ever again. I rested my head on his shoulder, breathed in his familiar cologne, and lingered probably a few seconds too long.

  He squeezed me back, and I didn’t want to let go. I slid my hands down to his side and loosened my hold on him before pulling back, but the seconds our faces were mere inches apart, something came over me.

  I leaned in and placed my mouth on his. I didn’t mean for it to happen. It just felt so natural in that moment. When I’d closed my eyes and breathed him in, it was like we were back together for a second. Time stood still. Nothing else mattered. No one else mattered.

  “Olivia?” I heard a man’s voice say from the top of the stoop.

  “What did you do?” Sam said as he pushed me away. The look on his face was terrifying, and I realized right then and there that he didn’t kiss me back. His lips were pursed and shut tight for those few seconds.

  “Oh, my god,” I said as I realized what I’d just done. I covered my mouth. “I–I have to go.”

  I turned on my heel and headed straight back to my apartment. I couldn’t believe what I’d just done, and I was sure there was going to be absolutely no coming back from that.

  I knew I had a solid twenty-minute walk to convince myself to cut all ties and move on. I’d royally screwed things up with Bennett and made a huge fool of myself in front of Sam. My life couldn’t possibly get any worse.

  As I turned the corner towards my apartment, it was like a breath of fresh air. My sanctuary. My refuge. My light at the end of the tunnel. My apartment sheltered me from the real world and the pain of reality. I wanted nothing more than to cuddle under the thick covers of my bed and drown out my thoughts with some cheap wine and a heart to heart with Claudia.

  “Claudia?” I called out as I kicked my shoes off by the front door. “You home?”

  I didn’t see her purse or keys by the front door. That wasn’t a good sign. She was probably with Eric.

  The apartment echoed emptily as I went from room to room. She was definitely out.

  “Ugh,” I sighed. I headed back to my room and slipped on pair of old, tattered, stretched out gray sweat pants and a plain white tank top. I pulled my hair back into a pony tail and high-tailed it to the kitchen to pop open a five-dollar bottle of white wine and a box of Oreos to drown my sorrows and eat my feelings. After the day I’d had, I more than deserved it.

  CHAPTER 19

  Two generous glasses of Moscato and half a sleeve of Oreos later, I was sprawled out on the couch, almost asleep in front of the glow of the T.V. I was two seconds away from being utterly out cold when a knock at the door startled me into an upright position.

  The clock on the wall read eight o’clock. It was growing dark outside, but it was still early enough in the evening for visitors. Amaya was known for sometimes just popping by randomly, but most of the time she’d call first.

  I tiptoed over to the door, attempting to be as quiet as a mouse, and peered through the peephole. It was Bennett.

  Forgetting that I looked like a hot mess covered in chocolate cookie crumbs, I pried the door open.

  “Can we talk?” he said with one hand on his
beltline. He stood with his head held low, but peered up at me through his intense, deep set emerald eyes. His jaw was square and tensed.

  “Sure,” I relented. He’d made the effort to come all the way over here. The least I could do was hear him out.

  He walked in and ran his fingers through his thick, dark hair. His eyes bored into mine.

  “So that kiss… with Sam,” he said. “What was that about?”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said. “Back up here just a second. Before we go digging into my past, why don’t you explain Ayla to me?”

  He shook his head as if he didn’t know what I was talking about.

  “I know you two dated,” I said. “Why would you keep that from me?”

  “I didn’t keep it from you,” he said. “I told you I don’t talk about past relationships. How did you know we dated anyway?”

  “I had coffee with her. It was brought up in conversation,” I replied, crossing my fingers that he’d buy it.

  “What all did she say?” he asked.

  “Nothing. Just that you two dated for a few months a long time ago,” I said. “She didn’t go into detail. We were just talking about what a small world it is.”

  He bit his lip as if it pained him to hear she’d talked about him so casually.

  “I want to hear everything from you,” I said. “There’s clearly some sort of animosity between the two of you and it’s causing problems between you and me.”

  “It shouldn’t cause problems between us,” he grunted as he tossed his head back. “That’s exactly why I don’t talk about exes.”

  “Can’t we make an exception to your little rule?” I asked. “I want to put this whole Ayla thing behind us. I want to move on. But I can’t. Not when you act so weird every time we run into her or she’s brought up in conversation. You know her stepmom is my boss. We’re going to run into her again. Shit, I’ve been asked to write an article about her wedding for crying out loud. We can’t sidestep this Ayla thing forever.”