It wasn’t a simple decision here either. It wasn’t a decision that touched on only our two lives. The situation was so twisted up…
What am I supposed to do? Leave Miranda for Emily? Does Emily even want that? Then Emily’s business is basically done for. Then I’ll have to be the guy that buys out Miranda on the lease Emily signed and then help her relocate and start over. But Emily doesn’t want that. I know that for sure. She doesn’t want anyone to take care of her like that. She’s too damn stubborn for that…
My cell vibrated against the desk under a folder and notebook.
I dug my phone out and saw Miranda’s name again.
I sighed but knew I had to talk to her.
“Should I keep my voice low?” I whispered.
“Very funny,” she said.
“How’s the head?”
“Not as bad as my lungs,” Miranda said. “I remember why I quit smoking.”
“So it wasn’t my fault?”
“Really? You want to get into it?”
“You said some nasty things to me.”
“I was drunk,” she said.
“How much of it was true?”
She went silent.
I nodded.
“Why didn’t you come up here?” Miranda asked.
“What?”
“You didn’t come up here.”
“I thought we settled this…”
“No. We didn’t. You should have dropped everything and came with me. And after last night? You heard me. You could tell I was drunk and in pain. And you did nothing.”
“Did you call to apologize or pick another fight?” I asked.
“I called for the truth.”
“The truth?” I stood up. “Okay, Miranda. The truth… I have no idea what we’re doing here anymore. You’re not going to demand that I quit my job and move. I’m not leaving the city. I don’t care what job you get. If Boston is your place, then just stay. Find your dream job and your happiness there.”
“Which means… that’s it?” she asked.
“What do you want me to say? This isn’t working. I’m the only one who gave half a damn about the wedding. I thought we were both getting married. Instead, I’m the one getting married. It feels open ended if you ask me.”
“Wow,” Miranda said. “You knew I was going to be busy.”
“So then call it what it is,” I said. “We’re two different people now.”
“Then I’ll just drop the ring in an envelope, Liam,” Miranda said. “Which is what I was going to do anyway.”
“Yeah?”
“Of course. What is this? You just want to sit there, settle and hang out with Jackson and your other loser friends. I’m living my life. I’m getting somewhere. You’re not going to hold me back.”
“Trust me, babe, I’m not holding you at all,” I said.
I heard a groan in my head at how mean that sounded.
Miranda laughed. “I should have told you everything when I was drunk. Of how many times I’ve woken up in our apartment and felt like a stranger. And how many times you’ve felt like a stranger to me. Or the fact that you’re okay with planning our wedding with someone else. I just wanted to see what would happen. That was your moment to say no and do something bigger…”
“You know what, Miranda? Maybe instead of being manipulative all the time and setting up these scenarios in real life that play through your head… just talk. You have no problem with that. Unless it’s something serious.”
“Well, fuck you then,” she said. “I’m staying in Boston. Your ring is on its way. I hope you enjoy being alone. Because today? I’m going to take a shower, eat something, and go live my life. And the best part? Now I don’t have to worry about you. I can do whatever the hell I want.”
“Good luck with that, Miranda.”
“I guess we both dodged a bullet then,” she said. “We would have just ended up as those people who get married for a month.”
“You think I’d spend a month married to you?” I asked, throwing another nasty comment her way.
She laughed again.
She fed off it.
I knew that though but I couldn’t help myself.
“Sit by the mailbox, Liam,” she said.
“For a ring? I don’t even care about it. Why don’t you pawn it and use that for an apartment?”
“With this ring? Please. What you paid for this couldn’t get me a decent meal.”
Miranda hung up.
I stood there, sort of numb, staring out the window.
My engagement - and relationship - just came to an end.
I hadn’t sat down yet.
I paced the office, talking to myself, talking to Jacob as I made him take notes on another case.
My goal was to keep my mind focused on work.
When I saw David, I made him make copies of projects I didn’t need copies for.
For Marie, I had her go through some depositions and come up with a new strategy.
It had been a couple hours since Miranda’s phone call.
I checked my phone a dozen times.
The thirteenth time, there was a text message from Miranda.
Ring is on its way. Thanks for nothing. Asshole.
That’s when I left the office.
I told Jacob to find something else to do and that was it for me.
I went to a bar and took care of my emotions the best way possible.
With whiskey.
I wasn’t sure what I cared about anymore or not.
Miranda. Emily. The ring. The wedding.
What actually mattered.
I paid my tab and when I stepped outside, I realized how late it was.
How long I had been sitting at that bar.
Hours had gone by.
Hours.
I told myself to go talk to Jackson.
He and Callie were probably fucking each other’s brains out.
I laughed out loud with nobody around me.
Drunk.
If I barged in on his apartment, he wouldn’t be the only person not fucking the woman they love…
After all those hours and all that whiskey…
I still couldn’t stop thinking about Emily.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Emily
I hugged the guitar with my right arm and took a selfie with it.
The first person I sent the picture to was Liam.
Then I sent it to a group text with Carla and Faye.
The original group text included Robin, but she got pissed when we would text all night and she just wanted to sleep because she had been feeling ill due to the pregnancy.
Faye replied with an excited face emoji.
Carla was a little more subtle.
Her text read FUCK YEAH!
Liam didn’t reply to me.
In fact… I hadn’t heard from Liam in almost two days.
Which was odd.
Part of it was probably my fault. I was so caught up in talking to Carla and Faye. Picking out songs. Getting to know each other. Both of them showed up to the bakery today and insisted I buy a guitar. Of course, they recruited both Lucy and Ember, and the four of them made it impossible for me not to go buy a guitar.
Not that I had the money or anything, but that’s what credit cards were for.