Once I wrapped up my call, I went back to face Trupti.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t worry, I’m used to it. When work calls, no one else exists.”
“My job comes with a shit-ton responsibility, and I don’t owe you an explanation, especially not anymore.”
An awkward pause hung in the air of my apartment as I refused to speak next. Trupti closed her eyes, exhaled, and then spoke.
“I’m ready to meet your friends. Spend time with them.”
I tilted my head to the side. “What?”
You think I’m not on Tinder because I’m hung up on you… Shit.
“Just listen—”
“Trup—”
“No, I mean it this time. I waited too long, and I know it. I’m sorry, I just… I didn’t realize how badly I screwed up until you ended things. I should’ve gone on the ski trip.”
“You know it’s not just about the ski trip, right? It’s about all the times last year that I asked you to come out with us. I can’t even count how many times you blew me off. How many times I had to lie to my friends when you canceled at the last minute. How stupid I felt every single time. You made me look like a fool.”
“I won’t do that anymore, I promise.”
I shrugged. “I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true.”
“Just like you promised to come to Pete and Maren’s housewarming and their Friendsgiving dinner.”
“I was scared!”
“Who isn’t? We’re all fucking terrified, but you have to show up for the person you love.”
“I will. I’ll show up.”
“But it’s more than that, Trup. Months ago, all of this would be music to my freaking ears, but you just pushed me too far. I don’t…” I paused, not wanting to hurt her but also wanting to avoid any misunderstandings. I attempted to soften my expression to also soften the blow of what I was about to say. “I don’t love you anymore.”
A lone tear rolled down Trupti’s cheek. She wiped it away violently as she stared up at the ceiling. “I’m so stupid.”
“No, you’re not. Look, I’m not trying to hurt you, but I have to be honest. We tried, and it just didn’t work. Our time has passed.“
“Because of Lyra. Because of whatever happened on that damn ski trip.”
“You already know what happened. I literally held her hand for a moment and wanted to kiss her. But I didn’t. You know everything, Trup. Stop inventing shit. There’s nothing more than what you already know.”
“You said you’re spending time with her though. How can I believe you’re just friends?”
I pressed my lips together in a fine line and shook my head. “It doesn’t matter what you believe. We aren’t together anymore. I don’t owe you anything.”
“Fuck you!” She took her glass of water and threw it at my head. I ducked, and it hit the cabinets and crashed to the floor, the glass shattering everywhere.
“What the fuck?” I said, looking down at the tiny glass shards that stuck to my hooded sweatshirt. “Have you lost your damn mind?”
She jumped from the barstool and got in my face. “I did the second I decided to come here. Stupidest decision I ever made!”
I sucked in a deep breath, my nose flaring as I glared at her. I’d never yelled at a woman, and I wasn’t about to do it now. But damn, I wanted to.
“Get out,” I said between clenched teeth.
“I’m already gone,” she sneered, walking out of my apartment, slamming the door so hard the picture frame next to it slid to the ground and shattered.
“Well, that escalated quickly,” I muttered to myself as I picked the glass off of my shirt, tossing it down to the other pieces of glass below, trying to remember where Inga kept the dustpan.
When I’d finally wiped up all the water and gotten all of the glass into the garbage can, I looked at the door, knowing this would be the last time I’d ever clean up Trupti’s messes ever again. No more lying to my friends about why she couldn’t join us for this party or that dinner. No more lying to my mom about whether I was seeing someone.
I was done.
I used to think that Trupti was the love of my freaking life. I wanted her to have my babies, to live in a perfect house in the perfect suburbs, to take her on anniversary vacations while my parents watched our kids. I had this entire vision of our future together. And that future was officially gone. Walking to my liquor cabinet, I grabbed my bottle of Tito’s and poured a shot. I stared at it for just a moment, then raised it up in front of me before downing it.
“Goodbye, Trup.”
For just a minute, I thought about that future I’d clung to for so long and I was sad. It was normal to be sad when you thought about the dreams you once had that would never come to be. That was normal, right? But the funny thing was, that feeling didn’t last long. About two minutes later, I heard my phone buzz with a text. And just the thought of that text being from Lyra erased all the sadness in my head and brought on anticipation and thought of possibilities.
Because that was what Lyra was—anticipation and possibilities. With just a side of hot tempers and misunderstandings.
And even though the text wasn’t even from her, I sat my ass on my couch and thought about Lyra and everything that was possible for us if I played my cards right.
And despite my failed relationship with Trupti, I was a damn good card player.
Chapter 16
LYRA
I clean when I’m angry. Always have. Because of that, my apartment is…well, not the cleanest. From an emotional standpoint, that was probably a good thing, an indicator of a pretty content life. But when someone was going to see my home for the first time, especially someone I was interested in romantically, it became a major source of stress. The second that Dev suggested picking me up at my place for our dinner-and-decoration-shopping excursion, I started to panic as I glanced around the living room.
I hadn’t vacuumed in at least a week, a stack of magazines lined the coffee table, old cups sat all around the room. Maren loved to tease me that I was constantly grabbing a fresh cup from my cabinet but rarely put the dirty one in the dishwasher until I ran out of cups. Because of this, I even had a stash of red plastic cups, just in case.
The thought of Dev seeing my pit of a place, knowing that he was a total neat freak (the guy had a housekeeper, for God’s sake!) made it especially stressful. Knowing that I wouldn’t have much time after work, I had started cleaning up the night before. And thank goodness I did, because I got held up at the library, helping a student with their project on Jane Austen. “Held up” is probably the wrong phrase. I was happy to stay and help the student with the author I was most passionate about, and the time got away from me.
And so I had approximately fifteen minutes to change my clothes, apply fresh deodorant, brush my teeth, and put the finishing touches on my place. Luckily, I could be fast when I wanted to be.
The doorbell went off at exactly six thirty. I buzzed Dev up while scooping up two last cups from the living room and dropping them into my sink, hoping he wouldn’t notice them peeking out from behind the stainless steel. I took two deep breaths as I knew he was climbing the stairs, reminding myself that it was just Dev and it wasn’t a date. Yes, there would be dinner, but we both had to eat, right?