I lash out instantly, “Why did you let him fucking kiss you?”
“I didn’t. I pulled away.”
“You didn’t pull away, Zoey. You acted like a little puppy standing there and forgiving him for all his mistakes,” I accuse.
“How dare you say that? You have no clue how I feel.”
“I think I do. He treats you like yesterday’s trash, but somehow you think it’s all going to work out again and he’s changed just because he says ‘I love you.’”
“You don’t know me,” she seethes. “I’m your roommate. Not your girlfriend.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I bite back. “I know you better than you know yourself, Zoey. I’m the one who helped you pick up the pieces after he cheated on you. I’m the one who watches you waste your life away. Don’t say I don’t know you.”
“Fuck you.”
“Excuse me?” I ask, shocked.
“I said… fuck. You!”
Well. That’s unexpected and rude. My anger doesn’t subside, and as soon as we hit the main road, not far from home, I ask the driver to pull over at the liquor store. Zoey watches me in frustration while I quickly duck into the store and purchase a bottle of bourbon. Fuck, it’s been a long time since I drank this much, but tonight calls for it.
Back in the cab, I open the cap and take a long swig, my throat clenching at the raw burn. Zoey continues to ignore me until the cab driver reaches our block and pulls up in front of our building. She immediately opens the door leaving me with the huge bill. Serves me right, I guess. If I hadn’t been drinking, I could have driven home.
The cab driver takes off leaving me alone on the sidewalk. I have two choices—the easy road out which is to walk in the opposite direction and continue on with the night, pretending tonight didn’t happen or walk upstairs and deal with the devil.
Unwillingly, I find myself walking in the opposite direction until I realize it isn’t the best decision. I can’t maintain my balance, and my surroundings are becoming a blur as my body knocks into things, which I can only assume are people judging by the threats.
Somehow, I manage to stumble back to the apartment. Fumbling with the knob, the door appears locked, and I try my best to find the right key before Gigi walks out into the hallway.
“Good night, huh?”
She’s dressed in purple pajamas holding one of her cats and stroking its fur softly.
“Great night,” I say sarcastically. “The best night.”
Gigi opens her door motioning for me to come inside. “Why don’t you stay here tonight?”
“What the fuck did she tell you?” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I immediately regret them. There’s no need to drag Gigi into this, but Zoey must have ranted about my inappropriate behavior tonight. The two of them are super close.
My face softens. “I’m sorry, Gigi. I didn’t mean to… you know.”
“The both of you need to calm down. Take it from me, no good will come out of you arguing.”
“She just… she just gets on my nerves,” I vent.
“You know her very well, Drew. Jess was a big part of her life. She needs time to adjust to him not being a part of it anymore.”
“She’s had plenty of time,” I yell in frustration again, taking it out on Gigi. “And the way she was with him tonight… I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s in our kitchen making breakfast tomorrow morning like that other fucking jerk… what’s his fucking face.”
Gigi remains placid, allowing me to vent and not commenting further. I can tell by the look on her face she’s tired, and it’s well past midnight. “I really think you should sleep on my couch tonight. Just to give each other some space.”
“Go to sleep, Gigi. I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. We always are.”
She walks back into her apartment closing the door behind her. Even in my dazed and alcohol-fueled state, I know one thing, I don’t want her to run to Jess. And everything about my behavior tonight has pushed her into his arms.
Maybe, just maybe, this is all my fault.
Time passes as I stand in the hallway outside our apartment gathering the courage to face Zoey. So much of tonight has changed our relationship, and I’m not sure that change is a good thing. After much hesitation, I open the door and find the lights turned off. She must be asleep. Down the hall, I see the light underneath her door. The closer to the room I get, the more the sounds become apparent. Like a crazed stalker, I place my ear against the door and attempt to listen. She’s talking on the phone. The conversation carries on, and my gut feeling is to continue listening until the moment she says his name.