Shitty shit shit.

“CONGRATULATIONS, CHARLIE. I’M PROUD of you, son. You deserve this promotion.” My dad’s sentiment sounds genuine and I try to bask in his praise, but I still feel hollow, like an organ is missing.

“Thanks Dad.”

“Too bad it means you have to relocate. We won’t be able to see each other as often.”

Now he wants to visit, I think. I’ve been here for 26 years and he’s never wanted to visit much until the last couple of months.

“We’ll still see each other. New York is only a short plane ride away.”

“True enough. Do you need any help packing?”

“No, Logan and Max are stopping by tomorrow, we have it covered.”

“When do you fly out?”

“Monday.” Today is Friday, so I have a weekend to pack up my life. Luckily, Picture This is helping me relocate.

“What about Quinn? Will she be moving with you?” I swallow what feels like a piece of shrapnel.

“We broke up.”

“You did? That’s too bad. I liked her.”

“I did too.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Let us know when you get settled in.”

“Will do.”

We say our goodbyes and hang up.

I turn slowly in my desk chair, assessing the boxes and supplies in my office. My chest aches and I rub it, almost expecting to find a gaping hole. Surprisingly, it feels completely normal on the outside. Isn’t that funny, how someone can be hurting so badly on the inside but show no sign of it on the outside?

My cell chirps with a text notification. I want to ignore it, but I know Max and Logan won’t leave me alone if I don’t text them back.

Max: You’re coming out tonight, right? Happy hour?

Me: I’m not feeling it.

Logan: No fucking way, you’re coming.

Me: I don’t feel like partying tonight.

Max: Do I need to remind you that when I tried to sulk after Monica dumped me, you forced me to come out and threatened to bring strippers to my house?

Me: I’m still not coming.

Logan: Okay, either you’re coming out or we’ll be there at six PM with strippers. What’s the name of that strip club you chose for Max’s bachelor party? Allure?

My stomach drops at the thought of Tallah showing up at my place to give me a lap dance.

Me: Don’t you dare.

Max: Then just come out. Eat, get drunk, and give us our last happy hour before you move.

It really is our last happy hour. Fuck.

Me: Okay. Fine. I’ll be there, but I’ll be grumpy.

Logan: What else is new? You’ve been grumpy for the last two weeks.

Max: See you later.

I pocket my phone and sigh heavily. Domenic, Tabby, Max, and Logan have tried to talk me out of this promotion, but I’ve made my decision. I can’t stay here. Everything reminds me of Quinn. Every room in my house has some memory of her in it. Every club or bar I frequent, we visited together. Even my damn camera is ruined with the memories of taking so many pictures of her.

I can’t bring myself to delete them, but looking at them hurts.

Especially the sexy ones.

The pain hasn’t stopped me from jerking off to them—seems to be the only thing my cock will respond to these days.

What I need is a fresh start, and a new job in a new city will give me that.

From now on, I’m going to avoid relationships. Any dealings with women are going to be about sex alone. Maybe I’ll have a new rule: no repeats, one-night stands only. That way, no one can get attached.

My cock laughs at me. He only wants one person.

“So do I,” I tell my cock. Then roll my eyes because I’m talking to my cock. Heartbreak will do that to you.

My body aches for Quinn. I want to talk to her. Hug her. Kiss her. Fuck her.

But she made it clear that she doesn’t want me.

 

LOUD BANGING ON MY door jars me out of sleep, and I squint at the alarm clock on my nightstand: 3:30. I struggle to remember if it’s morning or afternoon. The drapes are closed, covering the windows completely, so I’m unable to check for daylight.

The pounding continues so I force my body to get up. As I near the door, I hear the shouting.

“Quinn! Come on! I’m not leaving here until you open the door.”

It’s Monica. I’ve been dodging her for weeks, ever since the bridal shower, actually. At first, I knew she would want to check with me to make sure I was okay with her news, and I can’t begrudge my best friend her happiness. I wanted to give myself more time to get used to the fact that I have to watch her belly grow with this pregnancy.

Then once I broke it off with Charlie, I knew she’d want to talk about it.

I just…couldn’t talk about it. It’s too painful.

So I’ve…slept instead.

Not that sleeping helps me forget about Charlie, or my baby. Lately, I dream about them every night, and sometimes Charlie is holding Noah.

“Quinn!” Monica shrieks.

I sigh and open the door a crack.

“Finally!” she exclaims, pushing past me into my house. She’s carrying a bag in one hand and a pizza in the other.

“I didn’t know you were coming over.”

She drops her supplies on the kitchen table and spins to face me, hands on her hips. “How could you know when you haven’t answered any of my texts or calls?”

I sigh, knowing she’s right.

“It’s been weeks!”

“Sorry, Monica, I just…”

Her expression morphs from anger to hurt. “Do you hate me?”

My eyes widen. “What? No! I don’t hate you. Why would you ask me that?”

“Oh, you know, because I’m pregnant?”

I wrap my arms around my middle, though it doesn’t help me feel any more together. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I’m sorry, Quinn. I should have told you before the party, but Max and I didn’t want to tell anyone until after my first ultrasound—well, actually, he told one of our patients, Mrs. Harvey, but that was only because she basically predicted that I was pregnant the day he found out. I’m totally rambling, I know, but my point is, my ultrasound was Friday and the party was Sunday so we thought it would be a great way to tell everyone at once, but I’m a shit friend because I totally caught you off guard and I never meant for that to happen.” She finally stops talking and wrings her hands, nervous and awkward.

“Breathe, Monica, I don’t hate you. I’m happy for you.” The words sound forced, even to my own ears.

“Well if I were you, I’d hate me.”

“Stop it.”

She nears me, eyeing me warily. “I’m sorry I’m pregnant.”

“Gah! Stop saying that. I’m not sorry you’re pregnant. I don’t expect everyone to stop procreating just because I can’t.” I sniff.

“You’re right. I’m not sorry I’m pregnant, but I am sorry that it must be making you think of your pregnancy…of Noah.”

Stupid tears burn my eyes.

She steps closer. “I know I said it a million times before, but I’m so sorry for what you went through. I’m not as far along as you were, and I’d be devastated if I lost the baby.”

Stupid tears escape my eyes. I squeeze them shut, but that doesn’t do anything but make more fall.

“Hey,” she says gently, touching my shoulder.

I collapse against her, hugging her tight, sobbing all over her hair and shirt.

“Shhhh. I’m so sorry, Quinn, so sorry.”

She holds me while I cry, for minutes, maybe hours, until the tears work themselves out. As soon as they subside, I move back, looking at the mess my snot has left behind.

“Ugh, gross. Let me get you a new shirt.”

She chuckles. “Don’t worry about it.”

I grab some tissues and blow my nose repeatedly until I get myself under control.

“I have a proposal.”

I raise my eyebrows in question.

“How about you go take a shower, because you stink, then we eat some pizza and ice cream and you have some wine?”

I lift my arm and sniff at my armpit. Yikes, I really do stink. “Okay.”

After I’m freshly showered and Monica has changed into some of my clothes, we lounge in my living room, sitting on the floor around my coffee table, eating pizza and ice cream at the same time. Surprisingly, the combination is not bad.

Monica shovels a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth, closing her eyes in bliss as she savors the treat. “God, ice cream is so good. I could eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

“I like that plan. I think I’m going to do it.” I shovel my own spoon into my mouth.

“So what happened with you and Charlie? You guys were so good together.”

More stupid tears threaten to fall. “Can we not talk about this?”

“Did he not react well when you told him about the baby?”

I choke on my ice cream, some of it going down the wrong pipe. “What makes you think I told him about the baby?”

“Well, after Max and I announced the pregnancy, you and Charlie disappeared. I was worried about you so we went to look for you and we saw you. You both looked upset, so I figured he was comforting you. That’s why I didn’t stay and talk with you that night, because I thought Charlie was going to take care of you, but then Max said you guys broke up. What happened?”

I close my eyes, not wanting to tell Monica Charlie’s business. “He doesn’t know about the baby. I meant to tell him, but there was never the right time.”

She raises her eyebrows and puts her spoon down, the metal clanking against the bowl. “So what was that about then?”

“It’s not my place to tell you, but he was upset for his own reason.”

Her eyebrows go up even higher. “You’re going to leave me hanging? You know I won’t tell anyone.”

I sigh, wanting to tell her about it, but knowing I’ll feel like shit if I do. “I can’t, babe. I promised him.”

“So then, what happened with you guys?”

I shrug. “It just didn’t work out.”

“I’ve been debating ways to kill him, but I need to know the reason so I can be prepared with the correct ammunition.”

“I just didn’t want a relationship anymore.” My excuses are shit and she sees right through me.

“So that’s why you haven’t showered in forever and have been dodging me? Bullshit. I know he hurt you. What did he do? Did he cheat on you?”

I think of Tobias and Tallah, but Charlie was right—that didn’t feel like cheating at all. “No, he didn’t cheat on me.”

“Good, because if he cheated I’d cut his dick off.”

I chuckle at her threat. “No need to cut his dick off.”

“Good, because that’d be kind of awkward. So if it wasn’t cheating, what was it? Did he lie? If he lied, I could cut his tongue out.”

“No. Please don’t cut anything off of him.”

“I’m on your side, babe. I want to help.”

“Can we not talk about this?” I shove a slice of pizza in my mouth and take a huge bite.

Monica’s quiet for a minute, her spoon playing with the ice cream melting in her bowl. “Do you remember when I was a stupid idiot and broke it off with Max?”

“Yes.”

“Well you’re the one who barged into my house and helped me pull my head out of my ass. I’m attempting to return the favor, here.”

“Funny how our roles are reversed now.”

“Stop deflecting. Spill the details.”

I sigh dramatically, knowing she won’t give up until she has the story. If the shoe were on the other foot, I wouldn’t give up until I knew the truth either. “Things were going great with us. We clicked in the bedroom, but we also clicked out of the bedroom. He made me feel…normal.”

“You are normal, dumbass.”

“No, I mean, he made me feel like I could just be myself, and he got my quirks. Reid used to get so pissed when I worked in the studio all night when he got home from work. He thought I should arrange to paint when he was at work so that when he got home, I could spend time with him, but Charlie understood that it doesn’t always work out that way. He’d just hang out in the studio with me, snapping pictures or working on websites.”

“Sounds pretty…perfect. I’m failing to see what wasn’t working out.”

“He wants kids.”

She coughs, eyes bulging out of her head. “Excuse me? Did you just say Charlie wants kids?”

“Yes. I know everyone thinks he’s a big goof and totally irresponsible, but he isn’t. He’s a good man, talented and smart and…he wants kids.”

“So that’s why you broke up with him?” She gapes at me.

“Of course!” I shout. “I can’t give him a family!” My voice breaks, more stupid tears welling up in my eyes. How the fuck can I have any more tears?

“But you didn’t tell him about your hysterectomy?”

“No, there was never a good time, and then when I learned he wanted kids I figured, what does it matter if he knows about that? I didn’t want to have to make him choose between a family or me. What kind of choice is that?”

“One that he should make for himself, don’t you think?”

“He can find someone new, someone with a uterus.”

“But Quinn, you took that choice away from him.”

I freeze at her words. “What?”

“You took his choice away. I think he should have all the facts and make the choice himself. I think you’d be surprised at what his choice would be.”

I took his choice away from him.

His words from the night he told me about Anna ring in my ears.

“What happened to my choice? Didn’t I deserve to even know about it?”

I’m as bad as Anna. Well, it’s not exactly the same thing, but I did take his choice away.

Oh shit. Shitty shit shit.

“And now you’re getting it.”

My eyes snap up to hers, heart pounding, stomach sinking. “I fucked up.”

“Yes, you fucked up.”

“He’s going to hate me.”

“You need to talk to him.”

“No, I don’t know how to tell him.”

“Well you have to talk to him soon. He’s leaving on Monday.”

“What? Leaving?”

“You mean to tell me you don’t know about his promotion?”

“He got the promotion? And accepted it?” Wow. I’m not surprised he got the job, but I am surprised he took it.

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”

“The promotion is good, yes, except for one small detail.”

“Would you just spit it out already!”

“The job is in New York. Logan and Max are helping him pack tomorrow. He leaves Monday.”