How to Get Over Your Ex in Ninety Days

by Peel, Jennifer

  “You can go.”

  “You know I was never a big fan.”

  “Well, regardless. I can’t accept.”

  “Why do you have to be so stubborn?”

  I noticed how tired his eyes were again. It made me pause for a second before I answered. “Why would you buy me something like this when we aren’t together?”

  He lowered his voice and stepped closer. “I wish we were together. But I bought that ticket for you several months ago when they announced their tour dates. I was planning on surprising you. Surprise.”

  I breathed out heavily. “That was sweet, but you only bought one?”

  “Do you know how expensive those tickets are?”

  “Which is another reason I can’t accept.”

  “Please go. I know you want to.”

  My stupid grin came out.

  He smiled wide. “Go enjoy yourself. I want you to have a terrific birthday.”

  “Fine. But I’m going to pay you for the ticket.”

  “Not a chance.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair. “I don’t feel good about this.”

  “You will once you get there.” He pushed the card back toward me. “Have a happy birthday. I need to get back to the car line.” He gave my hand a little squeeze and walked away.

  His touch and gift had me feeling all sorts of things I shouldn’t. I walked back into the school and headed to Capri’s classroom. Maybe she could talk me out of going. I shouldn’t go, but I really, really wanted to.

  “There’s the almost birthday girl, looking sexy in her Auburn t-shirt.”

  Yeah, I was still wearing that shirt to bug the guy who bought me the nicest birthday gift ever. “Thank you. I have a problem.” I handed her the card.

  She wiped some charcoal off her hands before she took the envelope. Her eyes popped out when she read the card and beheld the ticket. “Wow. He wants you bad.”

  I swiped them out of her hand. “He said he bought the ticket before we broke up.”

  “Only the one?”

  “Yeah. I tried to give it back.”

  “Are you crazy? I’m so jealous right now. You have to go.”

  “By myself? I’ve never gone to a concert alone.”

  “You can’t pass this up. You’re on the floor. Do you know how freaking amazing that’s going to be? You could get some of the band’s sweat on you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “When you put it like that, of course I should go.”

  She smacked my arm. “What reason is there not to?”

  “I don’t know? Maybe that my ex bought the ticket for me and accepting it kind of sends the wrong message.”

  “I think you’ve made it clear you don’t want him back.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Or do you?”

  I looked down at my cute Keds. “I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it, but I’m still on the ninety-day plan. It just sucks that he can be so dang nice!”

  She pulled me in for a hug. “I know. Heck, even I like him. But it was whorish what he did to you.”

  “Is that a word?” I laughed through my tears.

  “If it isn’t, it should be.” She squeezed me tighter. “Go. Maybe you’ll even meet some fabulous guy there.”

  “No rebounds. I learned my lesson. And how can I even think about dating anyone else when I’m having such a hard time getting over Mr. Montgomery.”

  She released me and grinned. “I can’t believe you’re still calling him that.”

  “I do it mostly for fun now.”

  “And you think I’m the evil one? Honey, it’s your birthday, enjoy it. And on Sunday, I’ll have David make you a cake since I want it to be edible.”

  “I love you.”

  “I know. Now go forward and use your ex-boyfriend for all he’s worth.” She pointed toward the door and laughed.

  What could go wrong with that, right?

  Day Sixty-One

  Saturday, September 25

  Dear Mr. Bingley,

  Wish me happy birthday. You’ve been with me longer than any boyfriend. I still don’t like you, but I bet, like Mr. Montgomery, you would have given Jane a concert ticket for her favorite band. I suppose it would have been for a Regency musicale or a parlor band, or perhaps the opera. Either way, I’m sure she would have been delighted.

  But it would have probably confused her like it’s confusing me. I’ve hit the twenties and I feel nowhere near over him. You know I’ve tried. And I’m admitting this to no one except you, but I’m worried I won’t be able to. Yes, I’ve roared and avoided him as much as I could. I’ve mostly stuck with the plan. You know I couldn’t follow the most important and number one rule. I had to stay here. And it’s not my fault that he decided he wanted me back and that he has free reign of the school and can basically be where I am, except the bathroom.

  What am I to do? He has me feeling like a kitten, and no matter that I call him Mr. Montgomery, he has lots of Jackson moments, and I have to stop myself from dragging him into the prop room and reliving our glory days. I physically ache for him. I give myself huge kudos for being able to resist him. So maybe that’s key, if I keep holding out, it will eventually get easier.

  At least I don’t have to worry about him tonight. I do feel weird going to a concert by myself. But I’m also excited to see my favorite band.

  So wish me luck and safe travels and probably lots of caffeine so I don’t die on my way home late tonight.

  The birthday girl,

  Presley

  I rocked a kicking outfit with sky high leather boots that my feet would regret later, and a mini-skirt that said I was still in shape despite my chocolate-heavy diet. And my hair was on point in a sexy messy bun.

  After my twenty birthday calls from family and friends, I made my way up north for the concert of a lifetime. At least, that’s what I was counting on. I blasted Imagine Dragons on my ninety-plus minute drive while downing Pepsi. I was starting the caffeine early. The concert didn’t start until eight and it was going to be at least three hours, which meant with parking and the traffic, I didn’t expect to get out of Nashville until close to midnight. Then I had the long drive back to look forward to. And I’ve always been more of a morning person than a night owl. Ask Mr. Montgomery. I can’t count how many times I fell asleep on our dates, either on his or my couch or at late movies in the theater. I once even fell asleep during the symphony. His dad’s company was a big corporate sponsor, so we went several times.

  Speaking of his dad’s company, I wondered how his dad was feeling about being booted out. I wasn’t buying the whole early retirement thing. He was the kind of guy that wouldn’t leave until you dragged out his cold, dead body. I spent way too much time on the drive thinking about things I shouldn’t be. It wasn’t helpful on my road to recovery.

  I sang at the top of my lungs and danced in my seat all the way up. It was a party for one and a warm up to the main event. I was wishing it was a party of two. Single was fun, and I could do it, but being a couple was better. Sharing these kinds of moments with someone always enhanced the experience. And not just any someone. The someone.

  I cranked up the music louder and tried to forget about him.

  Downtown Nashville was alive with traffic and pedestrians. It took me a while to find a parking lot that didn’t require my life savings and a pint of blood. I had a feeling I might be walking back to my car in my socks. The things we do for fashion.

  I got through security and had my ticket scanned before I made my way into the enormous arena. There was already a large crowd on the floor. Being in the pit meant standing room only. It was a mix of old and young. I hoped later in life I would still pretend to be cool and make my kids go to concerts with me. I noticed a few embarrassed teenagers trying to distance themselves from their parents. Life goals.

  I felt strange being alone. I was probably the only person there not with someone. That was okay. I was embracing singledom. Sort of.

  I felt my phone buzz in the
small purse I had strapped across my body. I plucked it out of the bag and was surprised to see who was calling me. I had forgotten to block him again. I stared at the phone and debated long enough that he hung up. But he called right back. I answered. “You’re lucky I didn’t block you yet.”

  He laughed. “Well, happy birthday to you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Um, where do you think?”

  “I know you’re at the concert, but where are you standing?”

  “Why?” I had to practically yell and plug my other ear just so I could hear him. The crowd and noise were growing rapidly.

  “I’m here.”

  I fumbled the phone and barely saved it from hitting the concrete floor. Surely I’d heard him wrong. “Stop joking around. Why are you really calling?”

  “Boo.”

  I jumped and turned around, and this time he caught my phone. He grinned up at me while slightly bent over with my phone in his hand. I was stunned. Like someone had tased me.

  He stood up and handed me my phone. “Happy birthday, Presley.”

  I couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t in the plan. But there he was, in a tight t-shirt with my favorite pair of jeans on, wearing a smile that melted my heart. I was supposed to be roaring, not drooling. “You . . . you . . . said you only bought one ticket.”

  His smile took a mischievous turn. “I never said that.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “No. I said, ‘do you know how expensive the tickets were?’”

  This was not happening. “You tricked me.”

  He stepped closer. His smell was intoxicating. I had to tell my hands to stay down. “I wanted to be with you on your birthday.”

  I backed away. I was going to maul him. I shook my head.

  He took my hand and held it up to his heart. “I’ve been planning this night since the spring. It’s not exactly how I imagined, but here I am.”

  Words weren’t forming as I stared into his sincere brown eyes. In dramatic fashion, the lights lowered and intro music began to play for the opening act. I pulled my hand away and turned away from him. I couldn’t think. The lion and kitten inside of me were in a major battle. Kittens are stronger than you think, is all I’m going to say.

  Mr. Montgomery stood next to me. We were hovering near the outside of the main crowd. “You’re upset.”

  “You’re a genius.” I didn’t bother looking at him.

  “You’re anger only adds to how incredibly sexy you look tonight.”

  “You lied to me.”

  He had to lean in so I could hear him. Not good. Oxytocin struck again. “The only lie I’ve ever told you was that I thought we should break up. You don’t know how sorry I am for that. But let’s forget about that tonight and celebrate your birthday. I don’t expect anything from you. I only want to be with you on my favorite day. The day the world gave us you.”

  I nudged him. He was making it hard for me to be mad at him or remember why I was trying so hard to get over him. “You know how cheesy that sounds, right?”

  “I’ve been practicing it all day. Maybe it was in my delivery. Let me turn on my Barry White voice and try again.” He cleared his throat, ready to turn on the charm.

  “Please don’t.” I laughed.

  “Come on, baby, you know you love it.” He dug down deep to get that Barry White sound.

  “You’re ridiculous.” He had me smiling from ear to ear.

  He peered into my eyes. “That may be, but I love you.”

  I had to sever the connection. It was too much. He was too much. I faced forward and tried to focus on the opening act I hadn’t heard of play. I had to take lots of deep breaths and hold my own hands.

  He leaned in closer and whispered in my ear. “You don’t have to say it back right now, but I know you still love me.” He kissed my bare shoulder.

  Fire, fire. I was burning in an unbearable hell. I gave him a little push with my hip.

  He chuckled.

  I did my best to ignore him. I tuned into my inner rocker chick. I jumped up and down and tried to sing along to songs I didn’t know. It’s what I would have done even if the man I loved hadn’t showed up. The man that watched me all night instead of the concert. He was the man that wouldn’t let me ignore him.

  Imagine Dragons finally took the stage and I thought the night couldn’t get any better. They played several of their hits and some of their new material. But then . . . oh, then they sang my favorite song, “Every Night.” The song that I felt was our anthem. I was sure they wouldn’t perform it. It wasn’t a song that was ever played on the radio, but it was one of those songs that spoke to me. That put into words all the emotion I felt for the man that took me in his arms.

  “Our song,” he whispered in my ear. When I didn’t pull away like I probably should have, he drew me closer. His hand glided up and down my back as we swayed to the music like we were the only ones in the crowd.

  I felt like I had been watered after a drought. I clung to him like a hurt child would to his mother. Tears spilled over onto his shoulder where my head rested. For those few minutes, I belonged to him. We were us. It was the best birthday present I could ask for. I didn’t care that I was crying in front of thousands of people, most were probably too intoxicated to notice anyway. It didn’t matter that everything I had done up to that point to get over him was all for nothing, because I had to face the reality that I was nowhere near over him. All that mattered was that all distance had been erased and I felt like me.

  He ran his hand up my neck and through my hair. “Let’s get out of here. I want to be alone with you.”

  Yes, yes, my heart sang. But my brain and inner lion kicked in. I stepped away from him and met his hopeful eyes. The same eyes that had told me he was telling the truth when he said he needed to quit messing around. “I need some air.” I weaved in and out of the tight knit crowd, wiping my eyes as I went, looking for an exit.

  Mr. Montgomery followed after me. “Presley, wait up.”

  Who was I kidding, he’s Jackson. Calling him Mr. Montgomery had done no good. I still loved him. I walked out as fast as my sore feet would allow me to. I had known I would regret the high-heeled boots, but I had more pressing matters to worry about right now. Jackson followed me outside into the cool September night. An eerie fog had settled in. It matched my foggy feelings. I wrapped my arms around myself for comfort and warmth.

  Jackson put his arm around me. “Presley?”

  I pulled away from him. “Please don’t touch me right now.” I kept on walking.

  “Does that mean I can touch you in the future?”

  “I don’t know. I just don’t know. You treated me like an option. And I didn’t even realize I was one.”

  “I wish I could undo that night. There is no other choice but you.”

  “How can I ever trust you again? Do you even know what you did to me that night? And the days since?”

  “Walking away from you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

  I threw him a vile look. “You acted as if it was nothing.”

  His eyes plead for understanding. “I had to, or I wouldn’t have been able to do it. I didn’t think I had a choice. I was being pulled in so many directions. I still am.”

  “That makes me feel so much better. So, what happens the next time you feel like you have to? The next time you’re promoted or your dad tells you I have to go?”

  “I would tell them all to go to hell, because that’s what these last couple of months without you have been for me. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And whether you want me to or not, I’m not willing to give up on us.”

  I felt the blood rushing through my head as my aching feet pounded the Nashville pavement on the way to my car. I needed to think, but I was having a hard time at the moment. My ninety-day plan was imploding before my eyes, before Jackson. In an act of self-preservation, I removed my boots when we arrived at my car. My
feet said, “ahhh” when they hit the cool pavement.

  Jackson chuckled at me. “I guess I better be the one to drive us home.”

  I arched my eyebrow. “I’ve got it thanks. You can drive your truck home.”

  He licked his lips and stepped closer. He ran is finger down my cheek. “Now, what kind of gentleman would I be if I made you drive home so late on your birthday?”

  I let out a heavy sigh after I got over the shiver of his touch. “You didn’t drive up here.”

  He wagged his eyebrows. “Coach dropped me off.”

  “That’s a long drive for him.”

  “He said it was worth it if it got us back together.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know if I can . . . or if I should.”

  He leaned down and pressed his lips to my forehead. “I’m not going anywhere, so take all the time you need.”

  Time was definitely not on my side. Twenty-nine days. Meow.

  Day Sixty-Two

  Sunday, September 26

  “I can’t believe he showed up at the concert.” Capri stroked my hair on her couch.

  I was in a sugar coma with my head in her lap, staring at the remnants of the chocolate fudge layer cake we had devoured. David had some mad baking skills. His disappearing skills were even better. All I had to do was say “coital,” and in a flash he was gone. “I’m still trying to process the night.”

  “He seems pretty determined.”

  “It appears that way.”

  “What’s holding you back?”

  I curled more into myself. “Besides the obvious, the pain he inflicted when he broke up with me and the trust issues, he lives with his dad. When we pulled up to his mini mansion last night, it really hit me that’s where he lives. And we all know how his dad feels about me.”

  “Did you tell Jackson that bothers you?”

  “I didn’t have to. I think my stiff posture and look of disgust said it all when we pulled up his drive.”

  “Did he say anything?”

  “He said, ‘I’m my own man. And am doing what any good man would do.’ He wouldn’t say anything more. But oddly, his brother’s car was there, too. I asked him about it, but he shrugged it off. I hope Daniel and Miranda aren’t having marriage troubles. I doubt they were all there. He isn’t the warmest of grandfathers, unless you’ve just won an award or something.”