Serves Me Wright

And I couldn’t even go after her. One, I shouldn’t drive right now. She had been right about that. Two, I had that fucking breakfast with Jordan and Weston. I’d already been deeply not looking forward to it. Now, I wanted nothing less. And finally, she didn’t want me to. She’d made that clear. I had to give her space even if it was the last thing I wanted to do.

I headed back inside to find Ashleigh sitting at the kitchen island on her phone with the leather notebook in front of her, as if nothing had happened.

“You should leave,” I spat.

She held one finger up as she finished her text. I thought about taking her phone out of her hand and throwing it into the yard.

She looked up. “Sorry, what, babe?”

“I am not your babe. We are not together. You have no right to barge into my house ever. Ever.”

She just smiled. “Well, I tried calling you.”

“As I told you Friday, my phone is broken.”

“Still? That’s so irresponsible.”

I took a deep inhale. “Get out of my house, Ashleigh.”

“Okay, but first, let’s talk about the distribution meeting. I talked to George and explained the situation. So, we have another meeting with him today via Zoom. Let’s get you into a suit and get this wrapped up.”

I stared at her as if she’d sprouted an antenna. “Did you not hear a word I just said? I want you out of here.”

“Julian, baby,” she said, stepping up to me, “what’s important right now is the business. We can discuss what we’re going to do after we figure out this distribution issue. Together, we’re such a powerful team.”

“You know what, Ashleigh? I just realized something. Something I should have figured out a long time ago.”

“Hmm?”

“If I have to work with you to get this settled, then it isn’t worth it.”

Her mouth popped open. “How dare you!”

“I want you out of my house. For all I know, you told George not to give me the contract and made yourself the only option.”

Her cheeks colored. “I wouldn’t…”

“Yes, you would,” I said flatly. “You have, and you would. You’d do anything, and in my own fear, I forgot that. I just wanted this so bad. But it’s not worth my integrity or my girlfriend.”

“You’re really going to side with a drug addict over me?”

I took a deep breath. “I don’t know what those pills were, but Jen is nothing of the sort. I would have noticed if my girlfriend was on drugs.”

“But at the gala—”

“Enough!” I snapped. “Enough. This is enough. I’m done, Ashleigh. I was done months ago, and you need to move on. Just move on and stop ruining my life.”

Tears came to her eyes as she closed up her notebook and tucked it under her arm. “I can’t move on from you.”

“Too bad. You’ll have to find a way. Now, kindly get the fuck out of my house.”

She swallowed. For a second, she looked like she was going to try to argue with me. But there must have been something in my eyes, something resolute, because it made her finally turn and walk toward the door.

“I still love you, you know,” Ashleigh whispered as she pulled it open.

“I don’t think you know what that word means,” I told her.

She nodded once, her jaw clenched, and then exited my house.

I wanted to not move another muscle until this hangover was gone, or better yet, get rid of this fucking hangover and find a punching bag to channel this energy into, but I didn’t have the luxury. Not for either option. I had this fucking breakfast.

I didn’t even have time to care about my clothes as I called an Uber to come get me. I left on the clothes I was wearing, threw on a hat, and headed to Stacked, a hole-in-the-wall breakfast joint.

When I arrived, it was bustling. Way more people than I’d thought would be there. I didn’t know how Jordan expected us to have this conversation in public. Let alone somewhere this public. God, I wanted to reschedule. It was too bad Weston was leaving on the first plane out of Lubbock to head home and deal with his own family problems.

“What happened to you?” Jordan asked when I walked up to the entrance of the restaurant.

“Why?”

“You’re wearing basketball shorts in public.”

“Yeah?”

“Julian, you’re obsessed with your clothes.”

“Yeah.” I shrugged. At least my headache was finally taken care of, thanks to the Tylenol. But I still felt terrible.

“You’re wearing a baseball cap,” Jordan said. He flicked the brim.

“Yeah, I get it. I look like shit. I’m hungover, and Jen just broke up with me.”

Jordan reared back. “Jennifer Gibson…broke up with you?”

“That’s what I just said.”

“How? Why? Fuck, Julian, I’m speechless.”

“Tell me about it. I’m a fucking idiot. That’s why she did it.”

Jordan arched an eyebrow. “What happened?”