I hate to admit how much this breakup hurts. I feel like someone hollowed me out with a rusty spoon. Nothing in my life is working out like I had hoped, and it’s getting harder and harder not to feel sorry for myself. The familiar itch to escape all my problems and pretend nothing is wrong rears its weary head. Maybe a visit back home is exactly what I need.
4
CONNIE
Jamie’s house is tucked inside a quiet street in Benfield, a trendy neighborhood popular with young families and restaurateurs. Jamie and Ozzy are—technically—both.
They own a small, yet very popular, sandwich shop just a few blocks away called Enter Sandwich, an obvious ode to the Metallica song. As for being a young family, they might not have children of their own, but Jamie has treated Ozzy’s siblings as family ever since they got together almost seven years ago. It was around the same time that Jamie cut her parents out of her life.
Perfect, albeit bittersweet, timing.
Guilt spears through me at the thought of her connection to Ozzy’s siblings …
God, what the hell was I thinking?
I climb the few steps up to her small porch and ring the doorbell. The grey door is adorned with a large autumnal wreath, and I don’t need to ask to know Jamie crafted it herself.
My heart is in my throat while I wait to be greeted. I try to shake the nerves off, looking skyward and inhaling slowly.
“Get a grip. Who cares,” I mutter to myself.
My small puffs of cold air taunt me as if complicit with my anxious thoughts.
I’m not sure what exactly I’m referring to. Myverypublic humiliation or the fact that I’m about to see Huxley for the first time since … well since?—
“Connie!” A wave of relief washes over me when Sophia, Ozzy’s sister, opens the door. “Finally, someone interesting to talk to,” she says with a roll of her green eyes, flashing me a mischievous smile.
Walking in, I bring her into my arms after closing the door behind me. “Ugh, Sophia,” I grumble into her short, blonde hair. “Please tell me there’s alcohol in this house.”
Sophia was just a teen when I first met her, but we clicked immediately. She’s the little sister I never had, and I made a point to keep in contact throughout the years.
Sophia snickers. “Of course there is.” Then, adding much louder over her shoulder, “Even though I’mstillnot allowed to have a glass of wine even when it’sliterallyThanksgiving, and I’ll be twenty-one in two months.”
We share a private laugh, and I give her a wink, wordlessly promising her that I’ll sneak her a glass when no one is looking.
The house is already lively, a crowd of Jamie’s Marsford Bay friends milling about the living room, plates of hors d’oeuvres set up on a table near the already lit-up Christmas tree.
Sophia takes my coat, revealing my yellow Miu Miu blouse and knitted skirt underneath. I step into the living room, suddenly feeling awkward. I wave at a few familiar faces, hoping I’m imagining the pity I see on their faces. I toy with my gold ring, not knowing what to do with my hands.
Kill me.
Thankfully, Jamie appears out from the kitchen, looking like an ethereal fairy with her crown-braided pink hair and gossamer dress.
“You’re here!”
Tears immediately well up in her eyes as she clutches me into her arms.
“Oh my god, stop,” I say, chuckling warmly and hugging her back. “Such a Cancer, crying for literally anything.”
She pulls away and dabs the corner of her eye. “I’msorryif I’m happy to see my best friend,” she replies with mock vexation. Looking over my shoulder, she adds, “Where are your bags?”
A twang of guilt crawls up my throat. “Oh — uh, I stopped by the hotel first.” I try to keep my response as casual as possible, but I know what reaction is coming.
“Hotel? But I told you that you could stay here.” The disappointment in her voice makes my teeth ache. “We have plenty of room now that Sophia and Huxley moved out.”
The mention of his name has me scanning the room anxiously but there’s no sign of him yet.
“I know …” I say softly, rubbing her shoulder tenderly as I meet her gaze. “It was just easier this way.” I pause. “Is everyone here?”
