Feeling a little claustrophobic and not particularly social, I take the opportunity to escape outside for some fresh air. It’s a relatively warm night for November in New England and there isn’t much of a chill coming from the ocean. I inhale the salty air and lose myself in the crispness of the moment.

“Hey,” Tom says, coming out onto the porch with me. “It’s a beautiful night.”

I nod, rubbing my bare shoulders. Even though it’s not that cold, the night is still rather nippy, especially for someone with bare shoulders.

“Here, why don’t you put on my jacket?” he says, taking it off.

I’m about to tell him no, but the moment that I feel the warmth that’s emanating from it as a result of his residual body heat, I can’t resist, especially, if I want to stay out on the veranda much longer.

“There are so many stars out here,” I say, looking up at the sky. Tom follows my gaze and for few minutes we stand in silence admiring the beauty of the Milky Way.

“So, Carrie’s parents seem nice,” I finally say.

“Yes, they are. Especially to strangers,” Tom says.

“Not to you?”

“No, not exactly.” He shrugs. “I mean, I don't know. They’re just difficult to get along with.”

I’m about to inquire as to why, but then I realize that I don’t really care. There’s probably some convoluted explanation that goes all the way back to Carrie introducing Tom to them and that’s just too much history to deal with on a night like this.

“Robert did seem to take a liking to Aiden,” Tom remarks. I shrug and nod, continuing to stare out at the dark water ahead.

“So, I was meaning to ask you,” I say, “with everything that Carrie said about BuzzPost expanding so much into real news, why aren’t you going out on the campaign trail? It has always been your dream to report on politics. This seems like the perfect opportunity.”

Tom shrugs and shuffles his feet from side to side.

“It’s just not something that Carrie or Robert think is a good idea. I mean, they say it’s not a good use of my resources. They don't think too much of beat reporters and don’t really see the point of me doing it. Since there are so many more prestigious jobs to be had at the magazine.”

I nod, pretending to understand. It’s a whole bunch of bullshit, and both Tom and I know it. The problem is that he refuses to tell them what he really wants and to go after it, and no one else can do it for him but him. But I’m not in the mood to get into this now.

“So, tell me about your book,” Tom says after a few moments. I hesitate for a moment and then tell him everything. The cat’s out of the bag. Aiden has already told them pretty much the whole story, so there’s no use in shying away from it now.

“Wow, I can’t believe you’re doing this. I mean, it takes a lot of guts, Ellie.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean to just say fuck you to traditional publishing altogether and not even bother submitting anything there. I mean, I just never knew you were so confident in your work before.”

I nod. Hmm, maybe he’s right. Maybe this does make me confident. Or maybe arrogant or cocky are better adjectives. Who knows? Maybe I just don't know any better.

“You’re just putting it all out there. I mean, I know that you’re a good writer. But…I don't know if I could do it.”

“What? Publish and market yourself?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’m not particularly outgoing and neither are you. But you’re just saying ‘who cares?’ What will be will be.”

“Well, I have a little bit more of a plan, but yeah, pretty much. I mean, I’m not going to wait around to have some editor or agent somewhere read my work and tell me it’s good. I know it’s good. At least, I think it’s something that readers would want to read. So, I’m going to make it available for them.”

While I am talking, I don’t notice how close Tom has gotten to me. He’s standing barely a foot away. In the cold air, I watch as he breathes in and out and his breaths get faster and faster.

“You’re just so…amazing,” Tom says, putting his hand around my shoulder. At first, it feels like he’s doing it as an old friend, but then things change a little. Something is not quite what it seems. He moves some of my hair away from my neck. Just as I’m about to jerk away, he leans over and presses his lips onto mine. It takes me a few moments to realize what he’s doing before I push him away from me.

“What are you doing?” I ask. “I thought we were through this.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You just kissed me!”

“It just felt right.”

“Well, you better get a better radar because it didn’t feel right at all. I don't want this, Tom. I don’t want you.”

The words are sharp and to the point. The broken expression on his face tells me that they have done their job in piercing his heart. For a moment, I feel a tinge of regret, but it quickly passes. Tom has no right trying to kiss me again when I already made things perfectly clear about how I felt about him.

“So, you and Aiden…you’re what, together now?”

“Yes, actually, we are,” I say, taking off his jacket and tossing it in his face. “He’s my boyfriend. I don't appreciate you kissing me anytime you want.”

“You know what, Ellie?” Tom says, slurring his words a bit. Was he always this drunk? How did I not notice this before? “Why don’t you just go fuck yourself then?”

“Now, that’s classic,” I say. “That’s what you always say when you can’t come up with anything better.”

“What do you want me to say?!” Tom screams at the top of his lungs. His voice is loud and booming and it sends shivers down my spine.

“What do you want, Ellie?!” Tom booms again. His voice echoes over the treetops and disappears somewhere far over the ocean. Even though there’s a party raging inside with some background music, it suddenly occurs to me that someone inside can probably hear him.

“I don’t want anything,” I say quietly and turn on my heels to leave. I need to simmer this situation down.

“Where are you going?” Tom follows me. He jumps in front of me, blocking me from going inside.

I decide to turn around and head down the steps instead. But again, he catches up with me.

“What do you want, Tom?” I ask.

“I want you,” he says as a matter of fact.

“Well, you can’t have me. I’m with someone else. And even if I weren’t…we’re not good together, Tom.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because we fight all the time. We disagree.”

“Do you and Aiden not fight? C’mon, if you fight, that’s how you know you care.”

“No, that’s not true. That’s bullshit, Tom. Aiden and I disagree, but we don’t fight. I don't have to prove anything to him. And he doesn’t have to prove anything to me. Besides, it’s not about you and Aiden. It’s about me. I don't want you, Tom.”

The words sound much harsher coming out of my mouth than I really meant for them to sound, but I stand by them. I look straight into Tom’s eyes and refuse to look away. I have to get him to get this part. I have to make him understand.

The expression on his face softens a bit. Finally, I think, he’s getting it.

“Fuck you, Ellie,” he says after a moment. Okay, maybe not.

“Okay, fine,” I say, walking around him and down the path toward our cottage.

“Fuck you, Ellie!” Tom yells after me. I pray that he doesn’t follow me and, for the moment, my prayers seem to be answered.

“And you know what else, I hope your book fails. I hope it is the piece of shit that you’re afraid it is.”

I shake my head when I hear this. I can’t believe that these words are coming out of the mouth of someone I once cared about very deeply. Of all people out there, only Tom knows how important my writing is to me. And here he is shitting all over it. Wow, what a loser. What a pathetic person he has become.

Tom continues to shout at me as I close the door to the guesthouse behind me. At the end, I can’t make out any of his words anymore, but I know that they’re full of bile and hate. And I can’t have that around me anymore. I deserve better.

Still, knowing all that doesn’t change how I feel. I sit down on the edge of the bed and bury my head in my hands. Tears start flowing and there’s nothing I can do to stop them.