doesn’t respond to my personal messages, but he obviously does yours. Maybe you’re special?” She shrugs as if she doubts it, then walks away, bouncing on her toes as she does.
I’m going to be sick. I hold my stomach, afraid I’ll puke right here in front of everyone. My head is filled with images of Ram fucking that dumb bitch, and I’m pissed. I close my eyes, trying to block it out, but it makes it worse. How many people has he had sex with since me? Probably a lot. I should’ve known better, but somehow the thought never even occurred to me. How could I be so stupid? I can’t be with him anymore. I don’t know if I can take this job either.
Ram texts me back. I turn off my phone without even looking at it. I have to get away. I have to leave this place.
I get home and change into a pair of shorts and a tank top. The plan is to lounge around the apartment, binge-watch Stranger Things, and eat the carton of double fudge ice cream I bought on my way home. No thinking of Ram or that dumb bitch I’ll have to see every day when I go to work. What a fucking nightmare. Every time I see her, I’ll picture them together. It will drive me insane.
Hercules, aware of my current mood, won’t let me out of his sight. He stays at my heel as I grab a big serving spoon and plop down on the couch. No bowl for me. I plan to eat this entire lactose bomb out of the container. This might be the one and only perk of being an adult. There’s no one around to tell me I can’t, and no one to judge me for doing it.
I’ve settled into a comfy position on the couch. Hercules is cuddled up next to me. I’m on the third episode and things on the show are getting crazy and my brain has finally allowed me a moment’s peace. All I’m thinking about is the show.
Then the doorbell rings.
My heart leaps into my throat. Oh God, what if that’s Ram? I don’t want to see him or talk to him. Please go away.
I stand up and watch the door, thankful that I locked it. He must’ve seen my car, so he knows I’m home. I just hope he gets the hint and goes away.
The doorbell rings again. I take a steadying breath. Fuck. A few seconds later, I open it.
“Evan?” I say, surprised and a little disappointed. Though I was sure I didn’t want to see Ram, I guess a little part of me did. “What the fuck do you want?”
He looks terrible. He was never really all that handsome; he was too pale, a good three inches shorter than me, and a little on the skinny side. It was never his looks and body that drew me to him. He was a nice guy—or so I thought—and I’d never dated the ‘nice guy’ accountant before. I’d always been attracted to the bad boys. The ones who work with their hands and don’t mind getting dirty. The manly-types. Since I hadn’t had great luck in the past with the bad boys, I decided to give Evan a shot. That didn’t turn out so great. I’m starting to wonder if maybe it’s me. Maybe I just don’t have good luck with men.
“Can we talk?” he says.
I should tell him to go fuck himself. I’ve wanted to do that for a long time. If he didn’t look so miserable, I would. Beneath his eyes are heavy, bruised-looking circles. He’s lost weight, his hair looks a bit thinner, and he looks like he’s aged years in a matter of weeks since I saw him at the mall. I guess I didn’t really bother to see how he looked then either. I was too busy paying attention to his pregnant girlfriend.
I sigh and open the door. When he steps in, I close it behind him.
“Hey Hercules,” he says to my dog in that high-pitched way people talk to animals. Hercules is not interested. He looks once at Evan in curiosity, then returns to his sleeping position on the couch.
“What’s this about, Evan?” I say, letting my annoyance color my voice.
“Can we sit?” he asks.
I motion to the couch. He sits on one side. I make sure Hercules is between us when I sit on the other. God, how could I ever have been with