“Hello.”
“Tucker. Oh, thank God. I’ve been calling and texting,” Brooke’s frantic voice came over the phone. “Are you okay? What happened?”
I sank down into a chair. “She kicked me out.”
“What?”
“She said the ruse is over and so I’m not needed.”
She was quiet for a minute. “I’m sorry.”
“You know what’s really fucked up? Her ex is there now. I don’t know, Brooke. I think I totally misjudged Holly.”
“I can’t speak to that. I mean, everyone here thinks she’s great, but maybe she’s not. Not if she can’t see how great you are. Maybe that’s why her ex left her at the altar.”
My instinct was to defend her, but I stopped myself. “She had me drop her off. My stuff is still there.”
“God. She is a bitch.”
I scraped my hand over my face, once again, fighting the need to defend Holly. “Do you think you could go by and get it sometime? It’s not too much. A box of kitchen things. One bag of clothes. Oh, and a picture of me and my mom.”
“Yeah, sure. Do you want me to come over to your place now? We can get drunk.”
I laughed. “I’m sure your husband would like that.”
“He’s helping Sinclair with her campaign.”
“Maybe I should sign up to help with that. I need a new project. As it turns out, I have lots of time on my hands now.”
“I love you Tucker. I love how you find your sense of humor even as your heart is breaking.”
“Yeah, well…”
They say time heals, but the
y never say how much time. Two days? Five? A week later, I wasn’t feeling any better. When I wasn’t preoccupied by teaching or working with Brooke on Sinclair’s campaign, my mind was in a continuous loop of replaying what happened, from the moment I first texted Holly until the shit-show at Meredith’s, wondering at what point could I have done something different. I could have left Holly alone when she told me in her classroom that we couldn’t date, but then I’d have missed all the fun and yes, sex, that came from my persistence. I could have left my heart out of it, but I didn’t know how to do that. In the end, there was no avoiding my heart break and so I had to accept it.
There were a few moments, when I debated going to see Holly in her classroom or at her home, but Brooke advised me to let it go.
“I know it hurts, honey. But you said it yourself, she told you she wasn’t ready for a relationship and her feelings didn’t change even while you were with her.”
“Maybe they’ve changed now,” I argued.
She’d give me that pitying look I hated. “If so, she’d be here. I just don’t want you to get more hurt than you already are.”
It was inconceivable that I could be more hurt than I was, but in case it was possible, and since it was almost too difficult to bear now, I didn’t want to risk it. Chances were Rick would be there anyway. So I filled my time with work and volunteering to help Sinclair.
Once weekend, after doing some door knocking for Sinclair’s campaign, I reached a small convenience store in the neighborhood. Feeling thirsty, I decided to buy a drink. As I was walking toward it, Rick exited the store.
Rage immediately rose to the surface. Every neuron fired and tensed in my muscles at once. Without thinking or having a plan, I jogged up to him. I had nothing to lose.
Rick stopped short, his beady eyes taking me in. I guess he saw my menace as he stepped back.
“I don’t want any trouble,” he said, holding his hands up.
“Really? Because that’s all you seemed to want when you blew Holly’s life out of the water. Is that your goal in life? To make her miserable. Now that you’re with her, what’s your next plan to break her? Promise her children and then get a vasectomy?”
“I don’t know anything about—”