by Monroe, Lila
You could pretty much hear a pin drop.
Slowly, I nod. “Fine then,” I say, getting to my feet. Whether he’s firing me or I’m quitting, the end result is pretty much the same.
Because he’s right. I don’t belong here, not anymore.
April opened my eyes to the dark side of what we’re doing here. I don’t want any more lies or relationships built on pretending.
I only want one thing, but since she’s off limits to me, the least I can do is try to keep my conscience clear.
I walk out of the room, and I don’t regret one single step.
Until, of course, I realize I’m unemployed in New York City, with massive student loans and the kind of skills that don’t exactly transfer to a resume.
I head home, stopping on the way to grab a bottle of scotch. Drowning my sorrows in whiskey seems like a pretty solid plan at this point, and when I walk through the door, I find Bex on the couch, working on her laptop.
“I took pity on you and changed your sheets,” she says. “In case you want to head back there to continue operation heartbreak.”
“Thanks.” Laughing humorlessly, I hold up the paper bag containing the bottle. “I’ve moved on to phase two: unemployment.”
Her eyes widen as I drop onto the couch beside her.
“Before you freak out about me becoming a deadbeat or moving out, I have savings,” I assure her. “They should last me, oh, six weeks, if I’m lucky.”
“Seth, that’s not what I was thinking at all!”
I shoot her a withering look.
“OK, I was thinking it a little.” She laughs. “But seriously. What happened?”
I grab two glasses from the kitchen and pour us each some whiskey. I tell her what went down with Winston.
“That’s . . . good for you,” she says, looking impressed. And surprised.
“Does everyone really think so little of my personal morals? Wait, don’t answer that.”
I go to refill both of our glasses but she shakes her head. “I had one to keep you company but that stuff is vile.”
I refill my tumbler and take a sip. A very long sip. OK, a giant gulp.
“So, what are you going to do now?” she asks. “Will you try to patch things up with April?”
“Um, that would be a hard no.” I down another gulp, adding more fuel to the fire in my empty stomach. “What happened with us is beyond repair.” I put the glass down on the table and sigh. “I don’t know how you do it, Bex.”
She looks at me, eyebrows raised.
“The whole poly thing. I mean, I can’t even figure out a relationship with one person, let alone two.”
Bex pauses. “Um, that number has just become three. Well, it’s not a for-sure yet, so let’s call it two and a half.”
“Seriously?”
She grins. “Look, I know most people don’t understand, but it’s really not rocket science. We’re upfront with each other, we’re honest, and we have boundaries. I get different things from each of them. Lars likes to snuggle and be all boyfriendy, Netflix and chill, right? But he’s an introvert. Billy loves to go out and have fun. But he doesn’t have the time or inclination for the more relationship stuff, and he likes the freedom to date other people, too.”
“And the new one?” I ask. “The half?”
She laughs. “Susie. She’s a chef. Billy actually met her first and invited her for a threesome, and we—”
“Too much info!” I stop her there, holding up my hand. I mean, don’t get me wrong, usually those are just the kind of details I like, but this is Bex here. She’s practically family.
“Prude,” Bex teases.
“No, I’m happy for you. You’ve got it all figured out, somehow. And meanwhile, I found a way to screw up the easiest, simplest thing I’ve ever had.”
“Seth,” she says, nudging me with her toe. “With all due respect, stop feeling sorry for yourself and wallowing in that bottle. Go fix things. You have all the skills to make romance out of thin air. Use them with April.”
“Weren’t you listening?” I pour more whiskey. “I’m done pulling strings to make shit happen. I’m officially out of the meet-cute business.”
“That’s not what I mean.” She sighs. “It’s not pulling strings to fix a relationship. To do things for someone because you love them and want to make them happy.” Looking at me sideways, she adds, “You do love her, right?”
“Yes,” I admit, without hesitation. Because I do.
Trust me to only figure it out when it’s too late to matter.
But Bex won’t take my defeatism lightly. “Then what are you going to do about it? Because the way I see it is, you fucked this all up. So it’s down to you to fix it. Or . . .” She trails off.
“Or?”
“Or you don’t. And you never have April in your life again. And all you can do is sit around, wondering what might have been—”
“OK, OK!” I protest. Because fuck, that vision of the future pretty much chills me to the bone. “I get it. But you don’t understand, I really, really screwed this one up. She won’t want to speak to me ever again. What can I do to fix that?”
“I can’t answer that for you,” Bex says. “You’re the only one who’ll know what to do.”
24
April
After twelve days, five hours, and thirty-eight minutes wallowing in my total and utter misery, I decide it’s time to get the hell on with my life. Maybe it’s that I’ve had my fill of ice cream and donuts since Seth dumped me. Or maybe it’s the many pep talks from my friends. Or maybe it’s because I’ve cried my way through a whole bulk order of super-soft tissues and I don’t want to haul another box from the store.
Whatever. Point is, I have a shiny new outlook.
And that outlook realizes I need to clean my place. Badly.
So, I put my Dolly Parton mix on shuffle and get out the Dyson, and I get to work, cleaning every inch of the apartment until—
“APRIL!”
Uh-oh. I look up. Katie is in her bedroom doorway with a murderous-slash-sleepy look on her face. Her hair is very . . . medusa-like. I have to press my lips together to not laugh. But come on, she even has adorable pillow creases in her right cheek.
I shut the vacuum off.
“What the ever-loving fuck are you doing?” she demands, making her slightly less adorable. “And why are you laughing?! Do you know what time it is?”
“Um . . .” I glance over at the microwave. Whoops! “Five?”
“Five,” she says. “Five-fucking-a.m., April.”
I wince. “Sorry!”
She shakes her head. “Poppy warned me this might happen. She said you clean when you’re upset. To be honest, I expected it sooner.”
“Actually . . .” I straighten my shoulders and lift my chin. “This is me getting my life together.”
She gives me a sidelong look. “I think you’re in denial.”
“Denial?” I laugh. “No way!”
“. . . is what a person in denial would say,” she quips.
“Seriously,” I insist. “I’m fine. I’m . . .” I was about to say “over Seth,” but that would be denial. “ . . . feeling better about things. I’m ready to move on. And get the dirt out of this rug. Have you seen the dust bunnies in this thing?”
“Fine,” she yawns. “Carry on. I’m going back to bed. Let me know when you get to the tequila and chocolate phase.” She stops, looks over her shoulder. “As long as it’s after noon.”
I spend a busy morning at my shop, getting back on top of all the stuff I ignored during my wallowing phase of doom. I craft a help wanted ad for more support at the store, catch up with my billing, and even take several orders for upcoming wedding events, guiding the happy couples through their design plans with smiles and zero snark.
“Look at you, Miss Sunshine again,” Remy says, approving.
I snort. “More like Miss Faint Hints of Not Entirely Cloudy Weather,” I correct him.
“I�
��ll take it. Feeling up to the anniversary party? I can run the centerpieces over there, if you want.”
“No, I’m good,” I say. “Cute old couples aren’t nearly as annoying as young, gooey ones.”
“Truth,” Remy agrees.
I load up the van and leave him to hold down the fort while I head out. The anniversary brunch is on the Upper West Side, celebrating thirty-five years of blissful marriage, so I arrive early enough to set up all the centerpieces and throw in a few cute arrangements around the main dining room, too.
“I brought her yellow roses on our very first date,” the husband tells me happily. “She’ll just love this.”
“I’m happy to help.” And I am. Because sure, my heart still feels like a meat tenderizer had a field day on it, but it’s nice to see people like this have made love work. “Enjoy your party,” I tell him, and I head back outside. But I’m just approaching my van, hoping I haven’t got another parking ticket, when I hear my name being called.
The hairs at the back of my neck prickle. I know before I even turn who it is: James.
A string of swear words whirls through my head as I turn around—and stop.
The first surprising thing I notice is the woman on his arm. The second is his black eye and the butterfly bandage across his nose.
“What happened to you?” I ask bluntly, unable to keep the smile from my face.
He pauses. Then his expression smooths out, and he laughs. “Oh, you know, just sparring at the gym.”
I owe his sparring partner a drink, clearly.
“This is Trish,” he adds, thrusting his date forwards. “She’s a surgical resident.”
And I care about this why? I smile at the woman, wondering what the deal is. Does she know he’s a creeper? Then I wonder if they were one of Seth’s setups. I quickly dismiss the thought—Seth was done with James after that cabin-in-the-woods nightmare. I may be questioning a whole lot about Seth right now, but not that. I’m absolutely sure of it.
“Anyway,” I say, backing away. “I should get back to my shop.”
“I was sorry to hear about your breakup,” James says, stopping me in my tracks.
“What did you say?”
“Your breakup. With Seth.” He smirks. “Though I could have told you it wouldn’t last. Seth was never a one-woman kind of guy.”
I narrow my eyes. “Since when did you even know we were dating?”
He laughs, but it’s more like an evil chuckle. “It’s common knowledge, darling. His boss found out about the two of you, sneaking around. I heard he was going to fire Seth unless he broke things off with you. I guess he chose to keep his job, instead. Poor April. I guess you never saw it coming, did you?”
No, I didn’t. And him saying it feels like a gut punch. Except . . . something seems off. James seems way too happy about all of this, and he’s not exactly the most trustworthy source of information now, is he?
“Nice seeing you, April,” James says with a smirk, walking inside the building. His date is tapping something on her phone, distracted, and hangs back for a moment.
I sigh. “Look, we don’t know each other, but a word of friendly warning? If you get a mysterious invitation to go upstate, don’t.”
She frowns. “What do you mean?”
“Just be careful,” I tell her, and then hurry to get out of there.
Because I have some serious thinking to do.
I’m still thinking later that night at home. Is what James said true? Did Seth really dump me just to keep his job? Or would I be crazy to believe anything out of that lying, creepy stalker’s mouth?
I’m no math whiz, but something about his story doesn’t add up. I know that Seth really cares about his job, but trading me away like some kind of baseball card just to keep it?
That’s not the man I knew.
I’m halfway through my pint of Chunky Monkey, still no closer to figuring out what to do, when my mom calls.
“How are you doing, honey?” she asks. “Feeling any better yet?”
“A little, but . . .” I sigh and fill her in on what happened with James. I end with, “So now I don’t know what to do. Why can’t my relationships just be easy, like you and Mike?”
“You think my relationship with Mike is easy?” She laughs, and I can picture her shaking her head. “Oh, honey, we have our moments, believe me. Sure, we’ve been together a long time and are in a groove. But don’t forget, we came together after a couple of real doozies. We had both been in relationships before. Unsuccessful relationships, so we’d learned a lot of relationship don’ts the hard way. We’ve paid our dues.”
“I guess.” I’m not quite convinced.
“Of course,” she adds, “we still get into it now and then. Or have you forgotten Thanksgiving?”
“Oh yeah,” I say, trying not to laugh. Last Thanksgiving, they got into a fight over him nearly burning the house down with his new turkey deep-fryer. It was pretty scary at the time. They lost their shed, but even she can laugh about it now.
“I still love him, even after that,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. “But we choose to be together. That’s what a relationship takes. It’s not all flowers and romantic dinner cruises, you know. But we take the bumps in the road, and we keep on going. Because we know it’s worth it in the end.”
As cheesy as it sounds, it warms my heart to hear her say it. “I’m glad you found him.”
“So am I. Even though he nearly killed us all in that godforsaken turkey inferno!”
We both laugh.
“Honey?” she says in her Mom tone.
“Yes?”
“Would you choose Seth if you could work things out? Is he worth the work?”
I gulp. “I think so. I mean, I hope so. Yes,” I answer finally. “He is.”
And then I know exactly what I need to do.
I head over to Seth’s apartment—
OK, first, I put on makeup and a cute outfit and style my hair. Then I head over to Seth’s apartment, rehearsing the whole journey what I’m going to say. I get to his building and bang on the door, my heart pounding so hard, I think I’m going to pass out.
Am I about to make a total fool of myself here?
Bex answers. “Oh, hey, April!” She smiles then looks over her shoulder at the group of people behind her. “Look everyone, it’s April!”
I glance inside and see a guy at the table, and Seth, sitting next to a woman.
A gorgeous blonde woman.
His date?
I nearly lose my nerve, but even if he’s moved on, I deserve to know what happened. Also, Bex has just closed the door behind me.
Clearing my throat, I straighten my shoulders. “Seth? Can I talk to you for a second? Please?”
My voice wavers on the last word, but luckily, everyone pretends like it’s totally normal for me to be showing up and barging into the middle of their cozy double-date dinner like this.
“Uh, sure.” Seth stands and looks around. “We could . . .”
“Why don’t you two go into Seth’s room?” Bex says brightly. “I’ll dish out another plate for April.”
“Oh, no, thanks. I’m not staying.”
At least, I don’t think so, judging by the gorgeous red lipstick on Seth’s date.
I follow Seth to his room, and he closes the door behind us, looking seriously awkward.
God, I’ve missed him. It takes everything in me not to reach out and throw myself all over him.
Which would not be smart. I cross my arms, instead.
“So . . .” Seth pauses. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
He seems jumpy. Avoiding looking me in the eyes. Exactly the way any guy would seem if his ex-girlfriend just walked into the middle of his romantic dinner.
My heart falls.
“I won’t interrupt your date,” I say quickly. “I just needed to clear something up.”
Seth blinks. “My date? Oh, no, that’s Bex’s new . . . girlfriend, maybe?
I don’t know what the label is,” he says. “She and Billy are . . . inviting her into their relationship. They cooked ragu, and I’m starving, so . . .”
He’s not seeing the gorgeous blonde?
Oh my God! I nearly sag in relief. “I’m here to find out what happened,” I tell him, needing to get this over with. “Why you broke up with me.”
When he opens his mouth, I clarify, “Why you really broke up with me, Seth. Because you know what? I don’t believe your bullshit story that it was just a hookup and I got caught up in the situation you created. I fell for you because you’re a great guy, and I had the best time with you, even when we were doing nothing at all. And I’m pretty sure you fell for me too, so I don’t understand what happened to make you push me away!”
I know I’m babbling now, but I can’t stop. All the questions that have been whirling in my mind . . . all the feelings that have been building, they all come rushing out, and I barely pause for breath before continuing, “I know it may not be cool to want to make plans and be exclusive, but I’m falling in love with you, Seth,” I blurt. “I want to be exclusive with you, and committed—not like that, but you know what I mean! That’s who I am and what I want. And if you don’t want that, fine, but I need to know the truth. And if there’s even a chance that you love me too—”
I don’t finish, because Seth is already kissing me.
Wait, what?
I pull back. “Is that a yes?” I ask, because as much as I’m all about the kissing, I need answers, dammit, and now.
Seth grins. “Yes.”
“Yes to what, exactly?” I press, my heart racing.
“To you. To plans and exclusivity and commitment.” His smile gets wider. “April, I’ve fallen in love with you, too.”
He did? He does?
I gape at him in disbelief—and then give his chest a shove.
“Then why the hell did you break up with me?”
Seth groans. “I know, I’m so sorry. James found out about us. He swore he would destroy your business if I didn’t let you go. I just couldn’t let that happen; I know how hard you’ve worked to make Bloom a success.”
