Maggie
I cracked my knuckles and stared at the closed door, swallowing back the sudden rush of nausea.
Sam was right the other night and it had been keeping me awake ever since. A terrible sex life was a deal breaker. So, this morning, after letting my pros and cons list marinate for a day, I’d come to a decision. I’d give it one more shot to fix this part of my relationship with Trevor and settle on the rest if it worked out—after all, no relationship was perfect.
If this didn’t work, then it was over. It had to be. I was too young to live in a sexless relationship.
Mind made up, I’d finished shopping at the farmer’s market and headed over to his place with a plan—and nothing else except the lacy black thong and trench coat I was wearing.
We’d been together for a long time, and it seemed childish to give it up without a fight. But that was no excuse for losing the spark in our relationship, and if he wasn’t going to be the one to put it there, then I was going to at least try to. For both our sakes.
Some part of me still felt conflicted, but I shoved it back and resolved to muscle through.
Clearing my throat, I squared my shoulders, pulled out my key, and walked through the door—just in time to see two people tumble from the sofa onto the floor.
Two naked people.
Two familiar naked people, one literally inside the other.
Trevor and his assistant Adelaide. Jesus Christ.
My heart stopped in my chest and I clenched my fists, opening and closing my mouth a few times like a bass flopping around on a pier. Unlike in the movies, he didn’t have the balls to tell me it wasn’t what it looked like. He just shoved the blonde on top of him away before getting up to display his rapidly deflating penis.
“Maggie—”
“No,” I said, holding up a trembling hand. “I don’t even want to fucking hear it.”
I wheeled around and stormed out, slamming the door behind me. I heard the door open again, heard his feet thundering after me, but I kept shaking my head and saying “no” over and over again so loud that I nearly drowned everything else out until I reached the elevator.
He was a few feet away from me with a towel around his waist that was too small for him, but before he could reach me, the elevator doors slid shut.
Pulse hammering, I winced and then leaned back against the metal walls as the cart jerked to life, speeding me down to the lobby.
“No,” I said again, closing my eyes and rubbing them. “No, Jesus, no.”
Was this seriously happening right now? God, it explained so much. The fact that, so many nights, Trevor had been stuck at work. The way he’d suddenly stopped wanting to sleep over on the weekends. The fact that he hadn’t touched me in months.
What a fool I was, trying to fix things.
My cheeks burned with humiliation as I scurried down the street, trying to get a head start in case he decided to get dressed and follow me.
I couldn’t face him. Not yet. I couldn’t call Sam, either. By now, he’d only just be getting off his flight and I sure as hell wasn’t going to ruin the first day of his vacation with my breakup.
Because that’s what this was.
After all these years, Trevor and I were over. All that time, wasted.
A strange sort of grief settled over me and tears stung my eyes. Weird that, even now, I didn’t mourn the loss of Trevor in my life. It was the investment of time and energy and the humiliation at being played for a fool that shook me the deepest. Maybe tomorrow, when it wasn’t so fresh…when I wasn’t running down the street in a pair of stilettos and a trench coat, I could cling to that.
Checking to make sure my credit card and ID were in my pocket where I’d left them, I made a dash to the liquor store down the street and got myself a cart.
Tonight was a night that called for Amaretto sours and shots of tequila in between. It was a disgusting combination, but it was going to get the job done and quick.
When I’d finished getting my supplies, I went to the neighboring convenience store and stocked up on chips, pretzels, ice cream, and candy, and then hauled all my goodies to the subway.
I couldn’t go home. That would be the first place Trevor would go to look for me. But I did have a spare set of keys to Sam’s house, and his place was a block closer to the station than my own anyway.
Ignoring the glances of leering old men near me, I fingered the keys in my pocket and squared my jaw. I was only supposed to water the plants and check the mail, but I knew Sam wouldn’t mind if I ducked out at his place for a while. In fact, if he knew what was going on, he would insist on it.
God only knew he’d hidden out at my apartment from his innumerable girlfriends over the years. Then, maybe after some ice cream and a few stiff drinks, I would be able to really process what that lying piece of shit had done to me.
Because honestly? Right now it didn’t make any sense.
I was good in bed. I knew it. I was open to trying new things, was an active and vocal participant. I wasn’t going to let this make me think otherwise.
And as far as frequency? It was always me asking him if he wanted to have sex lately, never the other way around. I took an interest in the things he liked, I listened to his boring work stories...
But more than that, I’d thought he was a good guy. A genuinely good guy.
But he wasn’t.
The subway pulled to a stop and I gathered up my things before trudging onto the platform and making my way to Sam’s place. It was easy enough to let myself in, and I set my things down on the entryway table before glancing around and allowing myself to slump against the wall.
This was exactly what I needed.
A place like Sam’s—all clean, with sleek lines and modern furniture—felt like a trip to a nice hotel. Like I was on a vacation from a really shitty, depressing reality.
So that’s exactly what I did. After unpacking my bags, I grabbed my favorite tub of ice cream, found the only channel still playing Christmas movies, and poured myself a drink. Tonight was a night to forget my troubles—big as they were. Tomorrow, I’d figure it out. A few hours later, I’d changed into a pair of Sam’s sweatpants and an old T-shirt, managed to drink two Amaretto sours and a shot of tequila, and was feeling less angry and a little sleepy. Maybe I’d actually get some sleep tonight after all.
I said a silent prayer of thanks to Ben, Jerry, and Jose Cuervo as I blearily made my way to Sam’s bedroom. He hadn’t bothered to make his bed before he left this morning, but I didn’t mind.
Instead, I snuggled into the space where I knew he slept, breathing in deep so I could smell his shampoo on the pillow, and closed my eyes. Sam would never do what Trevor had done to me.
Never.
I drifted off to sleep for what felt like roughly three seconds before I woke up to find my thigh vibrating and the late morning sun streaming through the window.
“What the...” I sat up, rubbing my eye with one hand as I grappled down into the sheets where my cell phone rested. I found ten missed calls—seven from Trevor, three from Sam.
Sliding my thumb over Sam’s name, I called him back and pressed the phone to my ear.
“Hello?” I asked, my voice cracked and groggy.
“It’s eleven there,” he said.
“Yeah, yep. I knew that,” I said, trying to make my voice sound less like it had just gone through a wood chipper.
“So why are you still asleep?” he asked.
“I’m not allowed to sleep in?” I asked lightly, the pounding in my head making me a little nauseous with its intensity.
“No. You never do. What’s going on?”
He sounded suspicious and for a moment I fought with myself over whether to tell him the truth. One way or another, he was going to get it out of me; he knew me too well for me to lie to him for long.
“Look, could I stay at your place while you’re away?” I asked.
“What? Why? Did something happen to your apartment?” he demanded, the worry clear in his voice.
“No, nothing like that. I just... I need a break for a couple of days.”
“That’s not cryptic or anything,” Sam scoffed.
I sucked in my cheeks. Okay, here we go. Like a Band-Aid.
“I need to be someplace where Trevor can’t find me.”
The long pause echoed over the line louder than any words could.
“Did he hurt you?” Sam demanded, his voice barely more than a snarl. “I swear to God, Maggie, I’ll—”
“No!” I cut in sharply, gripping the phone tighter as the shame came again in one, giant wave. “Not physically, anyway. He—we broke up.”
Silence filled the line for a long moment and I glanced down at my phone, wondering if we’d been disconnected, but then Sam’s voice buzzed through the line again.
“You can’t stay there alone.”
“Oh, don’t be dramatic. It’s just a breakup. I’ll be—”
“You won’t,” he argued. “Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve and you’re not going to spend it by yourself. Come here with me. I’m on my laptop buying your ticket right now.”
“Don’t buy me a ticket. Seriously, Sam,” I murmured, pressing my fingers against my aching temple.
“Too late, it’s done,” he snapped back. “You need to get to JFK in ninety minutes, so be quick about it. Go pack and I’ll call you in a little while.”
The phone went dead and I stared at it for a long moment before shoving it back in my pocket.
Leave it to Sam to hijack my plans. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to be angry at his heavy-handed tactics. If the shoe had been on the other foot, I’d have done exactly the same thing.
Besides, some time with my best friend would be good for me, especially when I was hurting so badly. All I had to do was get home, pack a bag hella-fast, and hope for the best.
Three hours later, I found myself buckled into the window seat on a plane headed to Colorado with nothing but the few clean clothes I’d had in my drawers.
A magazine lay in my lap, and as I watched the people passing by, I wondered how many of them were on vacation and how many were headed home after the holidays.
Occasionally, just to keep my brain from replaying the scene from the previous day over and over on a loop in my head, I made stories for the passersby, but when an older woman in a chunky-knit cardigan stopped in front of me and flashed her ticket, I smiled and forced myself to focus.
“Looks like we’re in for this trip together, neighbor,” the woman said with a wink. “Did I interrupt you? You look deep in thought.”
“No, uh, just distracting myself. Do you need help with your bag?”
In answer, the old woman heaved her luggage into the overhead compartment and let out a sigh. “You don’t raise four boys without having a good bit of strength to back you up. But thank you.”
I smiled a little more genuinely. “Four boys? I can’t imagine.”
“Oh yes, on my way to visit the older one now. Spent Christmas with the little one. But then, the little one is forty, so.” She chuckled and then stuck out her hand as she took her seat beside me. “Agatha.”
“Maggie,” I said, shaking her hand. When I released it, she buckled herself in and gave me another once-over.
“What’s taking you to Colorado, then, Maggie?”
“Oh, a friend. Meeting up for a ski trip,” I replied.
“That’s nice. Has she been a friend for a long time?”
“He’s been my friend since college, yes.”
Agatha nodded, her blue eyes twinkling. “And what’s taking you to him? Is he getting married there or something?”
I laughed. “Oh. No. Not him. I just…” I rolled my eyes at myself, but figured I might as well tell this woman everything. We had plenty of time and, after all, it wasn’t like I’d ever have to see her again.
“To be honest, I just sort of had a big breakup and he’s flying me out to join him on vacation to cheer me up.”
“Wow. Good friend. And he’s flying you first class.” Agatha sniffed. “We should all be so lucky.”
“Yeah, he’s a really good friend,” I agreed.
“You’ll excuse me, dear, for overstepping but…” Agatha paused. “You’re newly single and your male friend is flying you out to join him on a vacation? Don’t you think maybe…” She rose her brows and gave me a knowing look.
“I know how it sounds, but trust me, it’s not like that,” I reassured her with a stiff laugh.
Agatha nodded. “You know best, I’m sure. It’s just not many men would spend so much money on a first class ticket to cheer up a friend.”
I smiled and we fell into companionable silence as the flight attendants followed their procedure and the plane took off.
Still, as we ascended and my ears popped, I found myself glancing at Agatha every now and then, her words playing in my mind.
Sam did very well for himself as a well-known photographer, but he wasn’t independently wealthy and a last-minute first-class ticket had surely cost him a pretty penny. Why hadn’t I noticed that? It was possible it was the only seat left on such a short-notice flight, I supposed.
Doubt stirred low in my stomach and I settled back into the leather chair, thinking hard. Now wasn’t the time to fall down rabbit holes or read into anything.
Sam had brought me out to have fun.
And that was what I was going to do.