CHAPTER ONE
Georgina
The keys made a clattering sound when I tossed them and they landed on the kitchen table. My neck and back was sore from hunching in front of the computer all day. I rubbed my tired eyes, and opened the fridge for a glass of water.
What should I cook for dinner? Matt should arrive any minute now.
I opened the fridge again to return the pitcher and started rummaging in the crisper. My hand hovered at the carrot. That was when I realized there was no point in making dinner. Matt wouldn't be coming home because he didn't know my new address. I haven't talked to him in three months. Not since I fled that night when everything shot to hell...
I took my keys from my bag and inserted it in the keyhole. But I was surprised to find that the doorknob wasn't locked. I twisted the knob and what unfolded in front of me was every woman's worst nightmare. My mind must've short circuited because I couldn't understand what my eyes were seeing.
Matt was on the couch but he wasn't alone. In his arms was a petite and slender woman with long blond hair, and they were lip-locking like teenagers with raging hormones. They were so into it that they didn't notice me at first. I must be pretty shocked because I was rooted on the spot, stupidly watching my boyfriend as his hands groped the woman's ass.
Women like to imagine what their reaction would be when they catch their boyfriend cheating on them— not that they don't have complete trust in them. But they rehearse in their mind just in case. But reality had a way of smacking you from your blind spot, catching you completely off-guard. And this situation was the perfect example.
Matt must’ve sensed my presence because when his eyes turned to the direction of the doorway he quickly shoved her away from his body like she suddenly caught fire. I could see how panic and horror morphed his gorgeous face, the face I loved so much. Matt opened his mouth to speak but no words came. He closed it again. His face was as white as a sheet. I noticed with detached amusement that he looked like a goldfish— a pale goldfish.
"Georgie... y-you're here?" Out of all the things he could say, he chose that. If I weren't so shocked right now I would've laughed at how comical his reaction was.
The woman on the couch stared at me with equal panic in her eyes. The bitch was Carmella Coen, Matt's colleague. I've met her before, during one of those cocktail parties in Matt's office. I never suspected that she and Matt were sneaking behind my back. I must've looked like a fool to them, having no idea that my boyfriend was cheating on me with this bimbo.
Anger surged in me at that thought, finally thawing the numbness in my mind. The situation didn't sink in to me until that moment. The grocery bags in my hand landed on the floor, the tomatoes and apples rolling out of the bag.
"I can explain," Matt stated, his voice too high and panicky. Carmella stood up from the seat and for a second I thought she was going to charge into me. I took a step back. But she remained standing, just behind Matt.
"Georgie—"
Her voice cut through the haze of pain, anger and shock. How dare this woman call me by my nickname like we were friends? She fucking stole my boyfriend.
My vision turned red and I grabbed the first thing I could get my hands on— a tomato— and I hurled it at her. It hit her square in the face, bursting in red juice and seeds. It wasn't satisfying enough.
"You bitch! Don't fucking call me 'Georgie' like we're goddamn friends," I shrieked. I made a move to grab another produce, this time an apple. But Matt quickly stopped me, his hands gripping my arms to prevent me from ruining Carmella's nose job.
"Don't you touch me, you son of a bitch. Don't you fucking touch me," I spat, my voice shrill with the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I sounded like a madwoman— which I was.
"Okay, okay." He let go of my arms and raised his hands in a non-threatening gesture. "Just please calm down."
"Calm down?" I shouted in disbelief. "How the fuck can I calm down?"
"It's not like what you think." Matt's voice shifted from panicky to soothing, trying to coax me to not be homicidal.
"I'm not a five-year-old, Matt. I know what I saw."
"Let's talk about this." He was using his Wall-Street-stock-broker steady and sensible voice to pacify the situation.
"There's nothing to talk about, asshole!" I hurled the apple in his direction but he quickly ducked, and it hit the lampshade instead. It landed on the floor with a crash.
I ran into my room Matt and I shared. I grabbed a duffel bag in the closet and stuffed it with the first articles of clothing I could grab. I got out of the apartment in a haste before I could damage more stuff or worse, set it on fire while the two of them trapped inside. I choked back the tears and descended the stairs as fast as my feet would allow. The winter wind prickled my face. I didn't know what to do or where to go. But there was one thing I knew for sure: there was no way I was going back in there tonight.
I scrolled through my phone's contacts, searching for someone to call. But my contacts were also Matt's friends. Except for my team at Fielding-Morris. With trembling fingers, I dialed Mariz and prayed that she would pick up.
"Hey, Georgie! How's the anniversary celebration going?" Her voice was cheery, having no idea what had just transpired.
"Mariz," I said in a shaky voice. It was the only word I could muster before the tears fell freely from my eyes.
"Honey, what's wrong? Are you okay?"
I ignored her question and asked one of mine. "Where are you?"
"At home. I just arrived from the office."
"Can I come over?" I squeaked.
"Yes, yes of course."
I padded to my room, all thoughts of food and dinner vanished. I laid my tired and sore body on the mattress, my eyes focused on the blindingly bright bulb on the ceiling. Hot, prickling tears rolled from the corner of my eyes to my ears. I stared at the light bulb until my eyes hurt. I blinked hard, dark spots danced around my vision.
I grabbed a pillow, covered my face with it and let out a muffled shout. I hated this. I hated the way I felt— used, shamed, betrayed.
Matt and I had known each other for seven years, had been together for five, lived together for three years. He didn't just become my boyfriend but he also became a permanent fixture in my life. For a long time he had been there for me. We went through and got out of a lot of shit in college. When his parents got divorced I was there for him. He sat through the sappy chick flicks that I loved to watch. He got me. I got him. We were a team.
So what did go wrong? Why did he choose Carmella over me? Was it something I did? How did we get here? Wasn't I good enough? Was seven years of friendship and love that easy to throw away? My mind was filled with questions I had no answers to.
I'd go insane if I kept thinking of the past. I couldn't change it now. There was no point in mourning the loss of something you couldn't bring back anymore. But a part of me didn't want to let go. It was easier to dwell on the what ifs than to move forward.
My stomach grumbled. I should eat. I haven't had anything since breakfast this morning but the one ounce of energy left from working myself off the whole day was spent sobbing and thinking about Matt. I was too exhausted to deal with the world. Sleep sounded good, it would take me away from this plight and shroud me with darkness. It would make me forget, even just for a moment.