by Amy Marie
“Why, thank you.” Her vice grip loosens allowing my blood to flow freely again. “But it’s not like I won’t see you,” I continue. “We should get together for lunch. Just because we won’t be working together doesn’t mean we can’t still get together.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Rosie says, with a smile.
“Great! I’ll call you next week,” I say, giving her a quick squeeze on the arm as I turn to head out the door.
As I’m running to my car, I keep my head down. I really don’t want anything else keeping me from getting home. I know I said I love my job but I love Pink Moscato just as much… if not more, and it IS the last day of the school year. I want to celebrate!
The house is quiet when I get in. Noelle hasn’t returned home from work yet. Dropping my keys in the bowl on the counter, I throw my bags on the table while making a mental note to pick them up before she gets home. Noelle is very anal and if she saw my bags on the floor, she would shit…and then pick the shit up, shampoo the carpet, dry it, shampoo it again and curse my name without getting a speck on her. Neat freak is an understatement.
Noelle and I met freshman year at NIU when we were assigned the same dorm room. I hated her at first. In the beginning of the year, I would come back from classes only to find my dresser, desk or even my closet rearranged. She was always reorganizing my space, and we fought over it constantly. I wanted to strangle her, but more than that, I wanted her to stay on her side of our room. After I realized how persistent she was, I gave in, letting her arrange my stuff. Once she had exercised her anal retentiveness over my belongings, we found out that we actually had a lot in common. We both grew up in the northwest suburbs of Chicago.
I still remember the day I realized she had become my best friend. In the middle of finals week before winter break, one of the frat houses was having a Finals Finale party. Darren, a guy she was casually dating was a brother there, and she begged me to go. The minute we got to the party, I regretted it. Adrienne, Darren’s younger sister, thought I was trying to steal her boyfriend and was in my face. I wanted nothing to do with him, except finish the project we were assigned together. I tried to reason with her, but she was insecure and apparently livid about the amount of time I'd spent with him recently. Loudly calling me a slut in a room full of partygoers was the last straw. Fed up, I raised my fist, but before I had the chance to punch her in the face, Noelle stepped in and beat me to it. I tried to tell her I could have done that, but she insisted that was what friends were for. We were on our way out the door when Darren tried to get her to stay by grabbing her arm. He wouldn't let go, and he was holding her upper arm so tight that she couldn't get enough leverage to shove him off of her. Infuriated by his actions, and with my pent up anger towards Adrienne, I punched him in the face, knocking him back. He stumbled and actually fell to the ground. As we were both running back to our room laughing, Noelle used my line, saying she had it herself, but I repeated her earlier statement. That’s what friends were for. Cue corny 80s song.
That is one thing best friends do; stand up and stand by you through your ups and downs, to make sure you come out breathing on the other side.
Smiling at the memories of our early college days, I fill my wine glass to the brim with pink goodness and start a lavender bubble bath. I deserve it. The conversation with Jeff’s parents was tough. Even though it happened during lunch, it was, of course, my fault. What a way to end the year.
As I slip into the warm bubbles my cell phone rings. I fumble to answer with wet hands. I put my mother on speakerphone and lay it down on the ceramic edge of the tub.
“Hey, Mom, what’s going on?”
“When are you going to get married to that handsome hunk of meat you have and give me some grandchildren?”
Sigh. Meet my mother. Mrs. Decker was married at twenty two and had three kids by the time she was thirty. She thinks my eggs are drying up more and more every day. My older sister Nicole apparently has no TV because she’s had four kids (Hannah, Marie, Jack, and Nick). My younger brother Trent has little Jason, who just turned one. Ever since he was born, my mother has been on my ass to start popping them out. I am not in a rush. My nieces and nephews are amazing birth control.
“I’m great! Thank you for asking,” I say, rolling my eyes and taking a sip from my glass.
“Oh, Erin. I’m just messing around with you...don’t be so serious. But how is that Robert of yours?”
She doesn’t even bother to ask about my last day or if it’s a bad time to call. I love my mother, but she drives me crazy when it comes to my future. She sometimes forgets how independent I am.
“He’s good Ma; working late again tonight. I’m going to head over there after a bath and surprise him with dinner.”
“That’s great, honey. Show him what a good wife you would make.” I can visualize the smirk that must have spread across her face. I can’t win.
We hang up after a quick recap of the day, and I climb out of the bathtub since there is no way it will relax me now. Plus, the water is cold. My wine is warm, and I’m feeling cranky. I slip into my favorite pair of jean shorts and a new yellow tank top, before tying my short brown hair up into a ponytail, throwing on some light makeup and walking towards the door to head to Robert’s apartment. Spotting my bags still on the floor I run and throw them in my closet so Noelle doesn’t defecate on our new carpet.
I stop at the grocery store to grab some ingredients I’ll need to make dinner. It takes about ten minutes to get to Robert’s place from the store. It’s 6:30 now, and since he said he works until 7:00 this evening, I have plenty of time to have the chicken Parmesan ready by the time he arrives home. My flip-flops clang on the metal steps as I dig through my purse trying to find his key. The door creaks softly as I open it, and instantly I become breathless.
Candles and flower petals fill the entire living room and the sounds of Toni Braxton filter through the speakers. This was the first song we danced to at his fraternity’s welcome back mixer. We have been dating since my senior year in college, five years ago, and lately I’ve been dropping hints that I’d like to take the next logical step. Engagement.
My eyes fill with tears as I realize tonight might be the night Robert will ask me to be his wife. My mother will shit herself.
I place my purse and grocery bag on the kitchen table and look around with new perspective. The scent of the vanilla candles warms my insides, and I wipe the tears falling from my cheeks. Robert is nowhere in sight. My nerves are running rampant when the thought occurs that I may be too early. Stopping in my tracks I realize he couldn’t know I was coming over. He didn’t ask me to come.
I sneak down the hall quietly, on instinct alone. He is obviously expecting me. My excitement gets the better of me, and my pace picks up until I get to his half opened bedroom door at the end of the hallway.
“Oh God, yes!” A female voice calls out. What the hell was that? “Harder, Robby, harder!” The voice continues.
Slap.
“You like that baby, huh? I bet you love it.” I hear a muffled male voice that sounds eerily similar to my Robert.
Peeking through the doorway, I feel my heart shatter into a million pieces. The last five years circling the drain like the frigid water of my earlier bath. Gone! If I could turn back the clock fifteen minutes, I would’ve never come into this apartment. No, I would have because if not, I would be blind to what is going on behind my back. My eyes focus on the betrayal. It’s like a car accident you can’t look away from even though it’s bloody and brutal. It doesn’t seem real, but it is.
Robert, my Robert, is screwing his secretary, Anna, on the bed we picked out together at Sears. Their two bodies become one on the sheets we decided on because of the thread count. And he is not just screwing her, oh no. He is pounding it into her from behind with a firm grasp on her blonde ponytail while aggressively smacking her ass. A far cry from the sweet passionate lovemaking we had this morning before he left my house for work.
&nbs
p; “I’m coming!” Anna screams and rage consumes my body.
“THE HELL YOU ARE!” I yell with a voice I don’t recognize and push the door all the way open, hitting the wall with the doorknob. “GET THE HELL OFF OF HER NOW, ROBERT!”
They both jump at the sound of my shriek and she uses our 400 thread count sheets to cover up her fake breasts. Robert just stares at me expressionless and quiet. I’m hoping he has the worst blue balls imaginable.
“Go home Anna,” he finally says. “Erin and I have to talk.”
Awkwardly Anna gets up, never letting her eyes leave mine.
“Yes, go HOME, Anna, to your husband and two kids, you whore!” I spit.
Scowling at me, she scrambles to get her pencil skirt and button up blouse on and runs out of the room. I follow behind her, not yet able to stand looking at Robert or “Robby” as she calls him. She slams the door as she exits, leaving me alone in his living room. Seeing the candles and flowers that not five minutes ago gave me false hope of a future with him now leave me feeling alone and uncertain of what lies ahead. I know it’s over. There is no coming back from this, no second chances.
“Baby. I didn’t mean for you to find out like that,” Robert says walking into the room.
The music suddenly ceases, and my heart beats faster as I begin shaking with anger.
“How did you MEAN for me to find out, Robert? Or were you hoping I wouldn’t?”
The blood rushing to my face makes me dizzy, and I have to sit on his couch. I immediately jump back up when I think of them screwing there too. Disgusting!
“I didn’t want to hurt you, Erin. We’ve been drifting apart for a long time and I feel like I’m…I’m getting bored. I know you think marriage is our next step but I’m just not ready for that. I want to experience other things, other people, and other…positions.” He sits down running his hands through his shaggy black hair in frustration.
“What are you saying?” I ask. “That I’m not adventurous enough in bed? I lost my virginity to you, Robert! I loved you and I thought you loved me…and now you are telling me that because I haven't role played with you or let you fuck me from behind that the last five years meant NOTHING to you?” My hands shake as I pick up my purse and throw it over my shoulder.
I pull open his door and whip back around towards him again, saying my last words to the man who will probably be the reason I won’t ever be able to trust another. “I’m glad I caught you, you dirty bastard. At least my last image of you matches what you are. A DOG!”
“ERIN!” He starts towards me as I slam the door and run down the stairs.
As I near the bottom my traitor flip-flop catches on the step and I stumble across the sidewalk scraping my left leg. As blood arrives at the surface of my skin, I feel Robert’s hand wrap around my arm gently, trying to help me up.
“Are you okay?” He asks.
“No! I’m not ok. Don’t touch me!” I yell trying to yank my arm away. “Just stay away from me. Don’t call me, text me, or email me. Just lose my number and forget you ever knew me, or that you ever loved me. That’s what I plan to do.” I glare into his soft brown eyes that I used to trust, hoping to make my point clear. “I. Hate. You.”
The hurt in his eyes tells me I hit my target.
Good.
His hand releases its hold and I pick myself up and stomp off to my car. Once in my seat, I drop my head onto the steering wheel. The pain throbbing through my leg is a stark reminder of the pain in my heart. As my tears begin to overflow, my vision blurs. Why would he do this to me?
Getting myself together before I have a complete breakdown, I search in my bag for my phone. I text Noelle knowing she will see these three words and drop everything for me.
Me: I need you.
To the 2016 World Series Champions…The Chicago Cubs: Let’s not wait another 108 years for another ring!
To my husband: I don’t know what I would do without your one liners, dirty mind, and constant need to brush my ass every time you walk by. You make life interesting. I love you!
To my kids: Thank you for giving me time away from you to work on my books. I love you more than any words could ever say. Thank you for being proud of me.
Valerie: Here is the obligatory BFF acknowledgment. I’m glad we’re best friends because no one else would want me. Lol. All jokes aside, none of my books would ever get written without you. Thank you for always supporting me, pushing me, harassing me, and listening as I cry over each and every book. I love you to the moon and back…even if you are ditching me for the West Coast.
Lisa: Thank you for giving me the time I needed to get CASEN finished. I know we have a lot to do and I am so thankful you allowed me to get this done. Love you! Now you can finish SEVEN, lol.
JC and Maria: Thank you for sprinting with me. I don’t know if this book would have been done as fast as it was without you all pushing and encouraging. I love you ladies, even if you have an insane obsession with the Biebs.
Jenn: You’re such an amazing friend and beta. I’m glad there were no “cock or hand” moments in this book. I’m so thankful I met you!
Venus: Thank you for pushing me to write Casen. Your love, support, and friendship mean the world! Love you!
Kathy: Again, you know just how to make me look like I know what I’m doing. I can’t wait to meet you at SaSS! Thank you for dealing with my crazy!
Angel: The inside of my books always look beautiful because of you. Thank you for my constant crazy questions. I hope to meet you one day!
Sara: My covers look amazing because you are the best! Thank you so much for letting me nitpick at everything. I appreciate all that you do for me. I’m not easy to put up with, lol!
To my reader group: I know I took a long time to write this book. Thank you for sticking by me through it all. I love you all!
To my faithful readers: I’m so sorry that CASEN took so long. Life gets in the way. I wasn’t expecting SEVEN to end in a cliffhanger and I’m glad you get more of their story. An author is only as good as their readers. I hope you know that. I’m truly thankful for each and every one of you!
To the woman who threatened me in Annapolis to have this done by SaSS: I’m glad you don’t have to punch me in the throat, lol!
