Roomie Wars Box Set

Before we started a relationship, Drew was a man I could trust with my life. He was my best friend. We had the type of relationship that people envied. I never thought twice about it. He was trustworthy and genuinely cared for me. Even when we started dating, that didn’t change. He was never a man to treat me any less than I deserved. So, why do this? Why spend the night with her?

Questions are running around my mind with no answer in sight.

I’ve been staring at the same email for a good hour until finally I close my laptop. I’m getting nowhere, and the frustration mixed with hurt does nothing to ease the growing anxiety.

I follow the lead of Angela—the heroine from the book I read—walking around the city looking for things, trigger warnings, something which will lead me to the path of discovery. Conveniently, there’s a great pizza place on the corner. Even though I’m supposed to give it up, I order a large pepperoni with extra cheese and carry the box back to Gigi’s place.

After climbing the three flights of stairs, I fumble for the key in my pocket when I notice the door to our old apartment slightly ajar. Curiosity beckons, and so I push the door slightly open. The smell of wood and stale air immediately greets me.

The apartment is completely empty of any furniture or belongings. Taking slow steps, I walk through the apartment as the butterflies smack my stomach in full force. This is it, this was our home. Flashbacks of us sitting on the sofa watching movies that I forced upon Drew with bags of Cheetos that he would chastise me for but would steal one when I left the sofa to use the bathroom.

As I walk through to the kitchen, the memory plays—Drew cooking me dinner, something green that looked like fungus but was rather tasty. I never told him that. I liked to push his buttons and irritate him. We kind of worked well that way. And there’s the image of him at the fridge resting his arm along the door while he stands in his boxers rummaging around for something to eat. Even though he was only my roomie and friend, the sight of him took my breath away. I just didn’t know what it meant at the time.

Moving toward the bathroom, I peek my head in and see the same thing, the same old bathroom with the cracked tile near the faucet. The very faucet I used to wash my shaver when I was caught by Drew shaving my pubic hair. Yes, a memory so ingrained that I still didn’t know whether to laugh or hide from sheer embarrassment.

Across the hall sits my bedroom. The door is wide open, and so I step inside to nothing but the green walls. Gee, what an ugly shade of green. This used to be the best thing about my room, and now I just want to hurl looking at it. The room is empty—lifeless. And unlike the other room, the memories don’t flow so easy like they’re stuck in transit, complete limbo.

It bugs me that I can’t recall anything pleasant about this room, and so I move further down the hall until I push the door open into Drew’s old room.

As soon as it’s in full view, my heart stops beating, my body transports to a time when this was my safe place. I would come in here, even when he wasn’t home and just lie on his bed. Something about being here comforted me. I used to think it was Egyptian thread sheets, but it was more than that.

It was him.

I always gravitated toward him even when he was just my friend. And the same thing is happening now. This room, everything about it takes me to a place that I’d forgotten about these past few weeks.

I sit against the wall—pizza box beside me—dressed in my suit pants and cream blouse, not caring that I will be covered in dust. The walls used to be a nice shade of blue, but now they looked just as blah as my room. Was it always this ugly or could my rainbow-colored glasses be so tarnished that I see nothing but bleak? I lower my head and instead stare at the floor, closing my eyes for a moment to allow my emotions to balance out.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

Drew’s voice—though low—echoes loudly in the empty room. I don’t want to stare at his eyes or look up at him, just bowing my head as the tears fight to be held back. He sits in front of me crossing his legs to mirror mine, and instantly reaches his hand out to touch mine. It only makes the tears fall harder, and I know that no matter what, I can’t stop loving him. I don’t know how to move forward from the pain he’s caused.

“Zoey, I love you. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

I sniff, keeping my eyes hidden.

“Zoey, please look at me,” he begs, but I don’t want him to see me like this. Weak and so hopelessly in love with him that I will fall back into his arms after what’s happened with Raine.

“I admit I got scared, Zoey…” he hesitates, accelerating my racing pulse. “I didn’t want to end up like the couple in that movie War of the Roses. That’s what I honestly believed… we were settling for comfortable, and one day would fight until we’ve destroyed everything. That, and you pretend to feed me pâté made from a pet dog like Kathleen Turner did for Michael Douglas. I know I don’t have a dog, I mean we could get one, but I don’t like that whiny puppy stage and the shitting everywhere.”

“You’re rambling,” I say with a weak smile, noting the irony.

“I am.” He nods, nervously twitching his leg. “Zo, I didn’t touch her. I’d never do that to you. I was angry, yes, and believe me it wasn’t my intention to go to a sex club. And who would have thought she’d be there. But, I promise you I didn’t fuck her.”

I purse my lips, keeping my voice to a bare minimum. “There’re many things you could have done, Drew…”

“I didn’t kiss her, touch her in any place that could be deemed as sexual.”

“I don’t know what to think.” I choke again. “What to believe.”

“You know what to think.” He grabs my hand and places it on my heart. “Inside here you know the truth, just like I know you didn’t touch Slater. Though…” he adds, raising his voice slightly, “… I’d still beat him to a pulp for wanting you.”

I shake my head. “No, you wouldn’t. You tried that once before, and it’s not who you are no matter how angry you get.”

“You’re right.” He brings my hand to his lips kissing the tip of my knuckles gently.

“I don’t know what came over me. There’s just something about us that felt so…” I trail off, not sure if I know how to explain myself correctly.

“Perfectly mismatched? That we’d both been waiting a lifetime to find what we have, yet it’s here, and we both question if it’s right?”