Fuck Runnel… not the right fit, my ass. They’d strung me along for months.
Even though the possibility of Runnel passing had been weighing heavily on my mind, and the more time that went by, the more my hunch reared its ugly head, still, their decision hurt more than I had expected.
It could’ve been five minutes after I got home, or five hours, when Jade’s smiling face lit up my phone screen.
“Hey,” I said, trying to sound somewhat upbeat.
“I’m sorry, Aim.” Obviously, Nate had told her, and I couldn’t bring myself to be upset about that. “How about I make a dinner reservation at Grit and Grizzle at seven.”
“No, thanks.” Besides it being the place Nate and I had our televised date, watching hot men writhing while half-naked on a stage held no appeal. “I’m fine, Jade. Really. I just need to process what to do next.” Getting my answers from Janis was also a priority.
“I get it. Let me help you process it. I’m leaving in a few days. Selfishly, maybe I need to have time with my best friend,” she persisted. “Maybe I need to be sure you’re okay before I go.” The guilt was a nice touch, proving she’d learned from the best. I often guilted her into doing something when she was down. This was different, though.
“I promise I’m fine,” I fibbed.
“I disagree. First you take off during the guys’ birthday party, with no explanation at all. Only to find out the next day from Max that Nate whisked you away to go camping. And now I have to hear from my brother-in-law that you lost the Runnel deal. Forgive me for being concerned about my best friend.”
“What did Nate say?”
“Not much more than that you didn’t get it, and he hated that you were upset about it.”
It wasn’t fair to assume he had something to do with my misfortune. Feeling like shit for even having those thoughts, and for keeping Jade in the dark once again, I conceded, “Okay… fine. But can we meet tomorrow? I really just want to watch mindless TV and go to bed early.”
She didn’t respond right off the bat, and then revised, “Okay. Tomorrow. I’ll bring you breakfast, and then we’ll go get mani-pedis. I’ll be there around ten.” Before I could argue that wasn’t necessary, she hung up, and with a sigh, I realized I didn’t have the energy to argue with her anyway.
Forcing myself to unpack, I opened a bottle of wine and took a hot bath. Once my skin was nicely pruned, and my thoughts nicely dulled, I got out of the tub. Just as I’d wrapped a thick fluffy towel around me, my cell lit up again. But the smiling face that appeared this time was one I hadn’t spoken to in weeks.
I hated that an exhausted groan was an initial reaction toward my mother calling. Most of our conversations required a pep talk on my part because her relationship was over and her heart had again been broken, or because she’d found a new “incredible guy” and was head over heels. Neither of which I was in the mood to navigate.
Still, I couldn’t bring myself to ignore her. I never could. And after inhaling a deep breath, I tapped on the green icon. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”
“I’m fine. You?” Last we spoke, she was living in a hut with a guy named Roy.
“Great, actually… really great.” The playful tone in her voice, along with a pregnant pause, raised my suspicions that this wasn’t a failed-relationship kind of call. She must’ve met someone new. I waited it out, and the bomb I’d been waiting for came. “So… I have some news.”
“Yeah? What’s up?” I didn’t bother to mask my boredom.
“Well… I’m getting married.” This round of silence was much longer, much heavier. “You there?” she finally asked.
“Who is he?”
“Roy. I told you about Roy,” she said, sounding insulted. “I met him in a scuba diving lesson. He’s originally from Chicago, also a widower, gave up investment banking to find himself. Our stories are so similar. He’s incredible.”
“They’re always incredible until they aren’t, Mother.”
“Don’t give me that attitude, Amy Nadia,” she snapped, no different from when I was a child. “I have a right to be happy, and I will not feel guilty over it.”
“I never said you didn’t have that right. Forgive me, though, when it’s hard to understand how you can fall in and out of love so easily, commit to a person after only, what… a few months?”
“It’s been six,” she countered, as though that made all the difference. “Look… I know it’s hard for you to understand, but in Roy, I found the person I have been looking for. The man who makes me feel like your dad did.”
“Don’t you see what’s wrong with that statement, Mom?” I literally shoved my free hand into my hair and squeezed my scalp out of pure frustration. “You’re pegging all your expectations, all your needs, on a man who is auditioning to replace Dad. That’s not fair to Roy, or to anyone else.”
“Roy is nothing like your father in any way. But my heart feels full, and that’s where the comparison comes in. I can’t explain it. Yes, I’ve been searching for something, and even I wasn’t sure what it was… until now. I feel it. It’s back. That fullness that happened only one other time in my life. I love Roy, and he loves me. We’re very happy.”
Why jealousy hit at that moment, I had no idea… and remorse. Just because I couldn’t relate to her methods of finding love didn’t mean I had the right to knock it. Who was I to judge?
“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m happy for you.”
“That’s all I want for myself, sweetie. As much as I want it for you. And it will happen; you’ll see.” She had no idea what I’d been dealing with on my own with Nate. Hell, she didn’t even know I was involved with Nate. None of that mattered anyway. I knew my mom wanted me to be happy, but it was hard to dismiss her selfish behavior since my dad had died. It was what it was.
Resigned, I mustered all the joy I could and cheerfully asked, “When is the special day?”
“Thanksgiving… here in Costa Rica.” That was less than three weeks away. “I want you to be there, sweetheart. It would mean so much to have you by my side on that day.”
How could I not be there? She was my mother, with all her romantic flaws. So, I said the only thing I could. “I’ll be there. I promise.”
My mother’s call served as motivation to finish the bottle of wine I had opened. By the time I finally plopped my ass on the couch, I felt no pain. And then my door intercom sounded.
Assuming someone called the wrong apartment, I wobbled my way to the box and pressed the button. “Who is it?”
“Me.”
His voice managed to flip a switch from a meh mood to excitement. Okay, maybe the wine had something to do with that as well.
I pushed the button to give him access without bothering to say a word. Also uncaring of the fact that he would once again see me in ratty sweats with no makeup, I yanked open the door.
After the elevator arrived to reveal Nate in a black suit, white shirt, and gray tie, desire magically squelched any lingering depression that the wine hadn’t dulled. He must have decided to go into work after I’d practically thrown him out this morning.