She nods, a hint of disappointment flickering across her features. “I get it,” she says with a smile, though I can tell it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Whoever they are, they’re lucky.”
She grabs a drink out of the cooler, shooting me a quick smile before she melts into the party crowd. I’m left standing here, all alone again.
Then my phone buzzes, and I snatch it up eagerly. His name lights up the screen, stirring up a whole mess of conflicting emotions.
This whole situation is so confusing.
I’m hung up on someone who doesn’t even want me, not like I want him, stuck pining for him while he’s off living his life thousands of miles away. And here I am, sitting alone, trying to drown out all these thoughts with whatever cheap booze I can find.
Forgetting about Chris feels impossible, and honestly, I don’t want to. He was always the best part of my life. Still is.
Leaning back against the table, I tap on his latest text. My heart starts racing, and I close my eyes, letting out a frustrated groan.
Damn it. Why did it have to be him? After everything we’ve been through, after all this time, he’s still the only one I want.
I glance around the crowded room, filled with people dancing and having a great time. There are plenty of options here, plenty of pretty faces that will without a doubt offer me a distraction for the night.
But the thought of waking up tomorrow with someone else… Guilt gnaws at my insides, and my stomach churns. It’s not worth it. I can’t even entertain the thought. Especially when one simple text from Chris can make me feel more than any fleeting hookup ever could.
Chris:
You home?
Gabi:
Nope, at a party.
Three little dots dance on the screen, and I watch them eagerly, wondering what he has to say. I wait until his message finally appears.
Chris:
Just wanted to send you something.
Gabi:
A million dollars?
Chris:
If I had it, it would be yours.
A warm feeling spreads through my chest as I smile at my phone, noticing he’s typing again. His next message pops up, along with a link that makes my grin widen. I already know what it is.
I sigh, leaning off the table, my phone firmly in hand as I make my way through the party. It’s kind of boring in there, and the alcohol hasn’t hit me yet.
Pushing through the doors, the brisk wind slaps me as I step outside and close the door behind me. I settle onto the steps, clicking on the link Chris sent me, which leads me to a new song.
He sends me songs sometimes. Songs that remind him of me, that he enjoys, that he thinks I’ll enjoy too. Whatever the reason, I always look forward to these texts. Pressing play on those songs makes me feel connected to him in a way.
Chris:
Reminded me of you.
I smile, leaning back until my head gently meets the door. He knows me so well. Sometimes I wonder if he’s the only person in the world who really understands me, maybe even more than I understand myself.
I click on the song and press play, closing my eyes as the music begins to fill the air. It wraps around me, sending shivers down my spine—or maybe it’s just the alcohol finally kicking in. Whatever it is, I lean into the moment, letting myself be carried away by the melody.
Every lyric feels like it was written just for me, and I squeeze my eyes tighter as my throat starts to burn and my nose tingles with the threat of tears, frustration bubbling up inside me. Fuck.
