by Stella
“I thought you were getting a job here.” Lexi’s voice broke with the emotion that swam inside her. This was what we’d both waited two years for, yet somehow, nothing was working out as planned.
“I’ve tried, Lex. I’ve spent almost two months applying for positions within a thirty-mile radius of Atlanta. No one is taking me because they either need someone now and can’t wait a couple of months until I graduate and move, or they immediately say no because I haven’t received the degree from DIT yet.”
“Sounds like your mind is made up.”
I knew this conversation wouldn’t be easy; however, I didn’t expect a fight. We never argued, even when our relationship had been strained and we’d reached the proverbial breaking point. Back then, we were both heartbroken and felt helpless, even though we didn’t have any other option but to take a timeout. But this…this was anger. This was frustration. This was caused by a broken promise. I just wished she could realize that, like before, I was once again without an option. She was the only one between the two of us who technically had one.
“I haven’t made up my mind, Lex. That’s why I’m talking to you about it.”
“Can’t you move back and try again? By then you won’t have the same problems you do now, so maybe you won’t get turned down.” It was hard to remember the way she sounded when she was hopeful, because all I’d heard lately was desperation—the kind that gutted me and pulverized my heart.
“Lexi…” I huffed and hung my head with my phone pressed against my ear. “I have so much student loan debt, which I will have to start paying down shortly after graduation. I can’t risk moving back there without a job. The government doesn’t care if I have employment or not—they’ll want their money.”
“We’ll figure it out.” That was easy for her to say.
“Do you think you’d be able to move to California? The position requires a three-year contract. Since you haven’t been made account exec yet, maybe it would make sense for you to leave and try to work your way up somewhere else. There are plenty of advertising companies in California. I’m sure it won’t be hard at all to get hired.”
“I can’t leave my mom.” She hadn’t mentioned much about her mother’s condition, but I knew enough to understand it wasn’t good. The doctors had tried aggressive radiation and chemo, as well as surgery, yet nothing worked.
Bringing up the possibility of her relocating after her mom passes away would be wrong on more levels than one, so I bit my tongue and kept that option to myself. It was heartless of me to ask her to move when she was dealing with so much, except I didn’t see any other option—other than, of course, being unemployed for an undetermined amount of time while my debt continued to pile up with no way to pay for it.
“Not to mention,” she continued, drawing me out of my desperate thoughts. “I’m on the cusp of working for a new firm, and my chances of making ad exec are high. Between my mom and work, this is the worst time in the world to move across the country.”
This was it. This was the end of the one thing I thought I’d have forever. “I don’t know what else to do, Lex. As much as I want to race home to you and worry about employment later, I just can’t. I’m looking at monthly payments of at least six hundred dollars for my student loans. Add in the cost of living and a move, and I’d be six feet under.”
“What about your savings?”
“Most of it is gone.” I refused to tell her how much of it had gone to the ring I’d never given her, the one I’d more than likely never be able to give to her. “The less I took out in student loans, the less I’d have to owe at the end. So I tried to rely on my savings as much as possible over the last two years. I don’t have enough left to get by on. I thought it’d be easier to get a job once I graduated.”
“It just seems like you’ve had your mind made up this whole time. You could very well move here and get a job in a week, but you don’t want to pass up the one in California because it pays more. Just admit it, Chris.”
I slammed my fist on the table, forgetting all about the cup of hot coffee sitting in front of me. It splashed over the rim, and before I could react, the brown liquid rolled off the edge and into my lap, burning the shit out of my thigh. With only a thin pair of boxers on, I had nothing to protect me from the pain. A hiss rushed through my clenched teeth, to which Lexi took as a reaction toward her.
“That’s fine, Chris. We’ll just wait three more years. Although, I think at this point, we should just go ahead and call a spade a spade. There’s no way we can survive that long on a break. And I wouldn’t be able to handle getting to the end of your contract, only to hear you tell me you’ve decided to stay longer.”
“Once I have this job, I’ll be able to go anywhere.”
“I’ve heard that before.” She was angry, and there wasn’t much I could do about it.
“As soon as my contract in California is up, I’m coming home. I promise, Lexi.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Things grew silent, and I couldn’t help but picture her with her head in her hands, completely consumed by defeat—and more than likely, anger as well. Before the call was disconnected, she said, “I’ll talk to you later. Love you.” And ignoring the lack of oomph in her declaration, I said, “I love you, too.”
Except, we didn’t talk later.
Little did I know at the time, that would be our last conversation.
A week before I had to leave for California, where I would officially sign a three-year contract and be responsible for fulfilling it, I began to doubt my decision. I was ready to give it all up and head back to Georgia, no longer caring how long it took to find a job or how I’d pay the bills. None of that mattered as long as I had Lexi.
However, when I tried to call, I was met with a recording, informing me that the number had been disconnected. Worried that she’d missed a payment, I sent her an email. A few minutes later, I received one from the Mail Delivery System stating the email address was not valid. Even though I rarely used Facebook, I opened the app and searched for Lexi, hoping I could get ahold of her through a private message. Yet I couldn’t find her profile, and we were no longer friends. Even her name in my posts where I had tagged her in things was no longer highlighted. The only explanation I had was that she’d blocked me. She had officially blocked me from her whole life.
I gave up.
While packing my belongings for the second time in two years, this time to move to California rather than home, I couldn’t help but think back to that night at Bobby’s, the night I planned to propose.
She’d told me to follow my dream.
I’d held my tongue so she could follow hers.
Not once did I anticipate that our dreams would come between us.
Especially considering that on that night, my dream had been to make her my wife.
1
Chris
A heavy knock came from the front door. I didn’t get my mouth open to call out “just a minute” before the door swung open. There was no point in peeking around the corner to see who it was, considering there was only one person in all of California who would bother to knock before inviting themselves in. And that was my neighbor, CeeCee.
Actually, she wasn’t my neighbor. She was friends with the woman who lived in the apartment next to mine. And after CeeCee’s boyfriend had broken up with her, she’d gone to Laura’s place to crash on her couch for the night. I really started to question if CeeCee could tell time, because that was nine months ago. Ever since then, she’d become a daily fixture in my life—and apartment. Although, it was hard to complain when she cooked dinner for me almost every night. It was like having all the perks of a relationship without the girlfriend—well, most of the perks.
“If you were dating someone in another state, what excuse would you use to show up there?” CeeCee called out from the living room.
I pulled a T-shirt over my head and walked into the hall. When I made it into the living room, I found
her on the couch, exactly where I knew she’d be. Anytime she came over—or should I say, walked in completely unannounced—and I wasn’t in the main part of the apartment, she’d wait for me on the sofa. That was more than likely because she had a tendency to show up ten minutes after I came home from work—as if she sat by the front window and watched for my car like a lonely house pet—and if I wasn’t in the living room, that meant I was changing clothes. Much like I was today.
I probably should’ve thought it was odd how we seemed to have our own routine, especially considering we’d never dated, but it was far easier to ignore it than question it.
“So?” she asked with wide eyes. “Are you going to answer me?”
I’d already forgotten what she had asked. “Answer what?”
She groaned and threw her head back against the cushion in mock irritation. I knew it was fake since CeeCee wasn’t capable of being irritated. I swear, it was like she lived in a field of daisies with unicorns shitting rainbows. If I didn’t know she was crashing on Laura’s couch “for the night,” I would’ve been convinced of the field theory.
“I’ll forgive you this once…but don’t let it happen again.” A smile tugged at her lips when I fell onto the couch next to her. “You know how I’ve been dating that guy?”
Typically, I didn’t give two shits about her love life, but this had been the topic of conversation for at least three months. “You mean, the guy you met online? What’s his name…Jack? John? Oh, wait”—I held up a finger—“I remember now. Jeffrey.”
She stared at me, blinking in disbelief. “No. His name doesn’t even start with a J. Why would you guess those names?”
“Jack the Ripper? John Wayne Gacy? Jeffrey Dahmer?” I waited for it to click.
It did not.
“I have no idea who those people are…except for Jeffrey. He sounds familiar. Is he that guy you work with who came over that one time for that barbecue?”
Now it was me who sat and blinked at her—in slow motion. “First of all, I have no idea who you mean by ‘that one guy’ considering I work with lots of guys, and secondly, what barbecue?” I immediately thought better of it. “Never mind. Back to your cyber boyfriend. What about him?”
“Well, as you know”—I did not know—“he doesn’t live here. And I was wondering what excuse I could use to go visit him.”
“That sounds like a good enough excuse to me.”
“What does?”
CeeCee was a very nice person. She was fun and entertaining and always thought about others. However, she wasn’t the brightest star in the sky. Then again, her name was Candi Caine. You can’t name your child after a Christmas treat and expect them to be the next Einstein.
“Visiting him…” I waited for my words to make sense. And then realized that would more than likely not happen. “Can’t you just tell him you want to come see him?”
“I could…but I don’t want to come off as clingy.” Says the woman who’s been sleeping on my neighbor’s couch long enough to incubate a baby. “It’d be far easier if I knew someone who lived there and could just go visit them for a week or so.”
“Where does he live?”
“Atlanta.”
“Really?” Just hearing the name of the city sparked life in my chest. “I was just offered a promotion in our Atlanta office, starting in about a month.” Take it back. Take it back! Had I stopped and thought about it before the words came out of my mouth, I wouldn’t have mentioned it.
Her eyes immediately lit up with excitement. Somehow, she couldn’t follow a trail of breadcrumbs with the help of GPS, yet she had no problem connecting the dots on this one. “Oh, yeah? So you’re moving to Atlanta?”
I wondered if she’d believe I was talking about a different Atlanta. One far, far away from Georgia. Probably not. Unfortunately. “Looks like it.”
“How’d that happen?”
“They offered. I accepted.” It was the easiest way to explain, considering anything else would confuse her. Not to mention, out of the three years I’d been in California, I’d known her for less than one. She knew a little about Lexi, but only because the topic of relationships had come up, not because I’d decided to confide in her.
In truth, my contract at Seneca was almost up. I had less than two months left, and recently, I’d put out feelers in and around the Atlanta area. It wasn’t that I disliked Seneca—in fact, I’d enjoyed my time with them—but I was ready to go home. Two years at DIT, and then three here in California. Five years was long enough when I was born and raised on the East Coast. I’d heard back from a few of the companies I had inquired within, but nothing worthwhile. I worried I was running out of time. But one thing was for sure: I wouldn’t let the fear of a job—or lack thereof—keep me from what I wanted most. Never again.
“They just randomly asked if you wanted to move? That seems strange.” Apparently, simplistic answers also flew right over her head.
“One of the higher-ups at Seneca called me this morning and said he wanted to speak to me about my contract. I knew they were going to try to get me to stay—I’m one of the best IT managers they have. And considering I have no desire to continue living in California, I spent two and a half hours rehearsing my refusal of whatever offer they planned to give me.”
“How’d they take it?” CeeCee had completely turned to the side with her legs tucked beneath her, as if this were the most interesting story she’d ever heard. Her eyes were wide, bright, and glued to me as she anxiously anticipated the next part of this intriguing tale.
“Well, all that rehearsing was for nothing, because I couldn’t refuse their offer.”
“So you’re going to work here and in Atlanta? Don’t you think that’ll be a lot of traveling?”
Bless her.
“Apparently, they heard through the grapevine that I had sent my résumé to several companies in the Atlanta area. And they just so happen to have a position for an IT director in their Atlanta office.” Not only was that something I couldn’t turn down, but it was a promotion that came with a hefty pay raise, and just to prove to me how much they wanted me to stay with the company and take this position, they included a bonus to cover moving expenses. They either thought I’d accumulated a lot of stuff, or they really wanted me to take the offer, because for what they were giving me to relocate, I could’ve moved a family of nineteen and a dog. “So I took it. They got what they wanted, which was keeping me on their team, and I got what I wanted.” I felt she needed clarification, so I added, “Which was going back to Atlanta.”
I don’t think the word “yes” had ever come out of my mouth so fast—except for maybe the first time I had sex. Either way, I’d jumped on their offer so quickly it had to have broken a Guinness World Record.
But now that I’d gotten what I wanted, I couldn’t stop the anxiety and fear from consuming me. Thoughts of Lexi gave me whiplash. My mind bounced between our last conversation to the night at Bobby’s. It went from the first time we’d met to the last time I saw her. I thought about the ring I’d purchased—the one I still had tucked inside my sock drawer. Then I recalled the way her eyes would slowly close just before an orgasm ripped through her.
It had been three years since we last spoke; I only knew she still lived in Atlanta because of Jasmine’s Facebook page. Some would’ve called me a stalker with as much as I’d checked on her, but I had to make sure she was still there before I trekked across the country. Getting there, only to find out she’d gone somewhere else would’ve been something CeeCee would’ve done.
“This sounds like cause for celebration!” If her excited voice wasn’t enough to yank me out of my thoughts of Lexi, her clapping was—I swear, it reminded me of the mother in that movie where she chants, “Hercules! Hercules!”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Dinner, of course.” Of course…how did I not guess that—insert sarcasm here. “I’ll run home and change clothes real quick. I did a perm today and the smell is all over my
outfit. What a shame. I loved this top. Anyway…I’ll be right back. Go put on shoes.”
And just like that, she was off the couch and racing to the door. I wanted to make a remark about her calling Laura’s apartment “home,” or why she thought her shirt was a lost cause just because it smelled bad, but I didn’t. Instead, I remained on the sofa and waited for her to return.
I should’ve timed her, because there was no way it had taken her more than two minutes to change. That was one of my favorite things about CeeCee—for being a woman, she never spent long getting ready. Yet somehow, she always looked like it had taken hours to apply her face and do her hair. She ran through the door—without bothering to knock this time—and found me exactly where I was when she’d left.
“Why aren’t you ready?” She waved her hand in front of me, gesturing to my bare feet and wrinkled T-shirt. “Do you not want to go?”
“Honestly, CeeCee…I’d much rather just order delivery.”
Her bottom lip poked out in an adorable pout. And by adorable, I meant more like a sad puppy with droopy eyes and floppy ears. “But I put on my celebration outfit.”
“I can tell.” And I could. She looked like a walking, talking funfetti cupcake with her purple heels, teal skirt, and polka-dotted top. Add in the purple hoops and her blond hair piled on top of her head in that effortless, almost sloppy style that all the women wore these days, and she could’ve been an advertisement for a “Bring Back the Eighties” campaign.
“Oh well.” She shrugged and strolled into the kitchen to grab the menus off the fridge. “I’ll just wear it again for your going away party.”
