Gretchen…
An ellipsis.An ellipsis that might as well be his voice telling me to breathe. My lungs fill with air as the three dots pop up again.
Connor
Lauren and I broke up.
The synapses in my brain fire and misfire in every direction, breath faltering.
Connor
I haven’t told Drew yet. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything.
My heart tumbles like it might fall out of my chest. Why did he tell me, then?It’s because you were a rambling basket case, Gretchen. He probably wanted to shut you up.
Me
Of course, I won’t say anything.
I’m sorry, by the way
I can’t discern if it’s relief or fear that has my head collapsing onto my forearms. I’m so confused. Confused about Connor, about the timing of all this. And, most of all, confused about how I’m supposed to feel.
Maybe I shouldn’t go to the game. Things will be awkward and ifthingsare awkward, then I’ll definitely be the most awkward. Awkward does not sound like fun.
Connor
I really hope to see you there, Gretch.
Well, it looks like I’m going to a baseball game next weekend.
Chapter Five
I’VE MISSED THAT SMILE
Connor
After texting Gretchen last week,I knew I’d put off telling Drew about my break-up with Lauren long enough.
That same night, I invited him out for a drink.
I shouldn’t have been surprised to find out that he already knew. The guy had known since the day it happened because Lauren had called Reagan in tears and he’d been waiting for me to come clean about it.
I apologized for not telling him sooner, but that didn’t stop the cross-examination. He ranted about Lauren being the best thing to ever happen to me, that I was making a mistake, how she was this saving grace that swooped in and turned my life around.
There’s so much he doesn’t know about those few months before Lauren and I began dating.
The tongue lashing lasted for an hour before the tension in my bones reached critical mass. If I didn’t get out of there, every secret about my harbored affections for his little sister was going to pour out of me or I was going to punch him.
Rising from my seat, I interrupted his interrogation with the parting words:“I know you think I’m a dick and you’re not wrong. But breaking up with her is not the worst thing I’ve done. What’s worse is that I didn’t do it sooner because she deserves someone who loves her the way you love Reagan.”
I didn’t give Drew a chance to respond as I slapped a twenty on the bar and walked out the door.
Despite my dramatic exit—or, maybe, thanks to it—Drew hasn’t pushed the subject since, so I’ll take that as a win. I need every win I can get with my best friend because all other areas of my life seem to be in limbo, at best, and pure hellfire, at worst.
It’s now Friday afternoon. Ten business days that I’ve spent trying to schedule a meeting with my boss. There’s no big work emergency or design project to discuss, but now that the dust has settled a bit, I figured a meeting—man to man—to apologize and affirm my commitment to my job is in order.
I broke up with his daughter a month ago. The same daughter who sits in a cubicle a mere twenty feet beyond my office door.
