Roomie Wars Box Set

Life, in general, is going well that is until one Saturday morning, when it’s thrown a massive twist. A curveball, or shitty stick of epic proportions. Something I’m not expecting. I should know when the phone begins ringing at four in the morning and reaching to find it, I knock my golden pineapple over—it’s bad sign.

I glance up at the clock beside my bed and answer with a croaky voice, “Hello?”

“Zoey? It’s Gigi.”

“Gigi?” I sit up in shock to hear her voice. I haven’t spoken to her in a couple of months since she’d been traveling to New Zealand and had limited cell coverage on the mountain range.

“Yes, it’s me, doll. I’m sorry to call you so early.”

“It’s fine.” My eyes are wide open, and I am worried at the tone of her voice. “Is something wrong?”

“I’ve got some bad news,” she mentions sadly. “Drew’s father passed away.”

The second she says the words, the pit of my stomach swirls into a massive knot threatening me with the urge to vomit. “Drew’s dad passed away?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“When? How?”

“Two days ago. I just flew back in an hour ago, and Mrs. Porter from down the hall informed me.” Letting out a sigh, she continues, “It was an accident. He was working on a car when his arm got trapped in a cavity. He tried to pull himself free but suffered a heart attack when doing so.”

“Oh my God,” I cry out loud, momentarily beyond words.

The tears fall past my lips and onto my lap. My heart’s in pain thinking about how much Drew must be hurting right now. His dad’s his hero. He’s never shy telling anyone that. I can’t even begin to put myself in his shoes, and to think, he’s going through this all alone. “And Drew. How’s he taking it?”

“Not well, doll. Drew was the one who found him.”

Dropping the phone, I race to the bathroom and vomit profusely into the sink, not making the toilet. I manage to compose myself for a few moments, retreating to the bedroom and picking up the phone. I sob into the receiver, Gigi trying her best to calm me from her end. I listen intently as she fills me in on all the details.

The funeral will be held in three days, and without question, I book the next flight back home.

***

The long flight gives me plenty of time to think. I’ve been so caught up in my new life that I’ve never allowed myself to stop and think about the past. Scared that if I did, I would run back and reverse all the positivity that’s been happening.

The night before I left for London was the best night of life, spending those last moments with Drew. Sometimes, without notice and in the most highly inappropriate situations, a memory of the way he kissed me, the way he was inside me, flashes before my eyes. And every time it happens, I have to break away from the fantasy reminding myself it was never meant to be—chasing a dream that wasn’t attainable.

But I can’t forget the image, the moment. The look in Drew’s eye’s as he touched me. Fueled by lust, desire, and the fact that what we were doing was forbidden. We had broken all the codes.

I wanted so much for him to follow me to London, suggesting the idea and hoping he would read between the lines without me having to lay my heart on the table. But he wasn’t interested. That last night between us meant more to me than it did to him. I guess all it was for him was a chance to screw his roomie.

Although it hurt that the feeling wasn’t mutual, leaving Drew was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I knew at the time that if I didn’t take the opportunity, I would regret it for the rest of my life.

And I was sick of living in regret.

I was completely done with Jess. According to Mia, he had knocked up some woman who already had four kids to different men and was chasing him for child support. Serves him right. His wandering dick finally got bitten in the ass.

Callie and I restored our friendship via email. It was nice to have her back in my life. We had both moved on from the past, chatted every now and then, hoping to catch up when I returned home one day.

My biggest regret of all is losing Drew. We promised to remain friends, stay in touch, but that never happened. That night was the last time I spoke to Drew.

He deactivated all his social media accounts, changed his cell number, and the only thing left was his address. Or so I thought.

According to Gigi, he had moved closer to the hospital. Only Gigi and Mrs. Porter from down the hall remained in contact with him. It was evident he didn’t want anything to do with me, and so, I gave up trying to hold on to something I never had.

Then this happens.

Life.