Sophie
I furrow my brow. A movement sends shock waves through my head. Who’s working with a jack hammer at this time of day?
It takes me several minutes, maybe even longer, to realize the jackhammer is working away inside my own head.
My left hand gropes for something to cover my head.
Nothing.
I groan and moan. Slowly, memories of last night push their way through the hazy fog. Pain shoots through me at the thought of Todd with that bitch Emma.
Why am I still alive? Why haven’t I died? Surely a broken heart will lead to death?
A shadow of some sort blocks out the streak of sunlight creeping along the carpet, forcing its way through the curtains.
My heart beats a little faster. He’s here. It was all a terrible nightmare after all. I smile. Life’s good. Life’s perfect, except for the massive pain in my head.
Gingerly, I sit up and open my eyes. It takes a few minutes until my vision clears. I wonder how much I actually drank last night. Getting drunk really isn’t my thing.
The face slowly comes into focus. I can’t believe it. Elation turns to devastation.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty.”
Does he have to shout?
“What are you doing here, Mason?”
How stupid I am to delude myself into thinking Todd came here after all? He was probably in Emma’s arms.
Tears threaten to spill. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand.
“You had a little bit too much to drink last night,” Mason starts his explanation. “And Alice asked me to take you home. By the time I got you here, it was pretty late and so I just crashed on the couch.”
Images of gulping down several glasses of champagne surface in my mind. Nausea overcomes me. I debate my next move.
Shall I run to the bathroom and throw up or shall I try and ride it out?
Mind over matter, I tell myself over and over like a mantra, until I no longer feel the need to throw up.
“Coffee,” I mutter, more to myself than to Mason. “I need a strong cup of coffee.”
Mason hands me a steaming mug of black liquid.
“Strong and hot. Just what the doctor ordered.”
I smile at him.
“Thanks, Mason. You’re a gem.”
Quietly, I sip on my caffeine. What will I do now? I can’t go getting drunk every night—that’s not going to solve my heartache, is it?
Curling up into a tiny ball while waiting for the pain to subside…well, that’s a plan. Not a good one, but a plan nonetheless.
With a sigh, I make a mental note to visit mum and dad in the next few days. Parental comfort and support is what every broken-hearted girl needs.
“Do you want to come out with me for brunch?”
Mason’s question rouses me out of my navel gazing. I glance at the clock. Ouch, I seem to have slept most of the morning away.
I run through my options. Get some food ready at home, or go back to bed and wallow in self-pity.
“Sure,” I reply. “Let me just make myself a little more presentable.”
I ignore the fact that I’m no longer in my evening dress but my pajamas. Sometimes it’s best not to ask too many questions.
Ten minutes later, we’re seated in the courtyard of the Breakfast Bar café. To my relief, they advertise all day breakfast.
My mother is a great believer in a big fatty breakfast being the best cure for a hangover. I don’t feel particularly hungry, but I order the big breakfast with a double shot espresso.
I see Mason study me after we order. It makes me feel a little awkward. I search for something to say to start a conversation.
“You know Sophie,” Mason starts before I get the chance to say something. “I have always admired you, ever since film school.”
My heart beats a little faster. Oh, please, don’t let him declare his undying love to me. I can’t bear to hurt his feelings.
“Mason—” I start but he stops me.
“No. Let me finish. Ever since film school, I’ve had a crush on you. I think you are the sexiest, most talented and beautiful woman I know.”
My face goes red. I look down. Poor Mason.
My thoughts go to Todd. Why did I have to fall so miserably in love with someone who not only couldn’t be faithful, but also do not reciprocate my feelings? Why do women always choose the wrong guy?
“I mean, what’s not to love about you Sophie? You are just awesome.”
The waiter brings our food and Mason keeps staring at me.
If I’m so awesome, why didn’t Todd want to be with me? It doesn’t make sense. But life’s like that, isn’t it? Sometimes, the person we love, just doesn’t love us back. And it’s not just me. I mean, look at Mason—he’s exactly in the same boat as I am.
“If someone can’t see how lucky they are to have your love, they must be blind.”
This is Mason’s way of telling me it’s Todd who’s missing out. Really, what he should tell me is that I’m blind for buying Todd’s act. Stupid, stupid, Sophie.
The smell of bacon makes me realize I’m hungry. I take a few mouthfuls of food. By the time I’m halfway through my meal, I feel better. The pain in my head has subsided a bit, and the nausea is gone as well. The world no longer looks so dark and bleak.
“I had to tell you how I feel Sophie,” Mason continues.
“Thanks. I…” I start, but Mason stops me.
“I know it’s not going to go anywhere.” He offers me a sad smile. “I just want you to know how I feel, and that I’m here for you, as a friend, whenever you need one.”
I smile and reach over to stroke his cheek.
“Thanks, Mason. That means a lot to me.”
And it does. You can’t have too many friends, especially friends who actually care for you and look after you.
When we leave, we go our separate ways.
I stand in the middle of the street, the sunlight caressing my skin, and I take a deep breath.
Time to stop navel-gazing.