He's broken me. I've only known him for two and a half weeks, and he's broken me. How could I let myself get duped into believing the bullshit he said was true? This place. The Billionaires Club. It's all about fantasy.
I cry as I pack my clothes, cursing myself for ever being so stupid. Perhaps reading all of those romance novels has made my brain mushy. Ever since I got here, I haven't been able to tell the difference between real and fake. And now I'm paying for it.
He's married. That thought sends disgust racing through me to the point of pain. I don't know who I feel worse for, me or his wife. Of course, since she showed up at The Billionaires Club, she has to know what it's about. Then again, he's a good liar. Maybe he lied to her too. I wouldn't be surprised.
It's none of my business. They're none of my business. He's none of my business.
I feel desperate to escape. Desperate to run from my humiliation. I don't want this anymore. The fantasy and the sex and the lies. It's not for me. Not worth all the money in the world. Evelyn will just have to understand. I'll pay her back for this somehow, but I can't stay here. Not when I know I've been fucking another woman's husband. That goes against every moral fiber of my being.
I don't even bother to check out. I just leave. I don't want to take the chance of Anders sneaking up on me again. He's good at that. If he catches me leaving, I'll have to talk to him, and I don't think I can handle that right now. It would take everything in me not to go into a rage fit, and the last thing I need is to embarrass myself any further than I already have.
Tears silently cascade down my face on the cab ride back to my apartment. I feel guilty for not saying good-bye to Stephanie, but the last thing I want to hear right now is 'I told you so'. Besides, I doubt we would have remained friends outside of The Billionaires Club anyway. She's far more refined than I could ever hope to be. She probably doesn't keep company like me in her personal life.
The thought makes my frown deepen. It's like my subconscious is taking every stab it can at my self-esteem. I picture Anders' wife standing at the front desk. Her gorgeous perfectly styled blonde hair. Her thin shapely body. Her pristine sense of style. I'm a bridge troll by comparison. Ugly and stupid. Stupid for thinking a man like him would actually want me when he has someone like her.
My day is only going to get worse. When I arrive at my apartment, I still have to explain to Evelyn why I left The Billionaires Club. She'll probably be upset with me for wasting her money. I can't be bothered with that right now though. Right now, I need to be selfish to save my sanity.
By some miracle, Evelyn and her husband aren't at the apartment. In their place are boxes upon boxes upon boxes. My mind instantly goes into a panic, the tears quickly progressing to body wrecking sobs. They're moving. They're moving and she never even bothered to tell me.
I feel sick with the realization that her sending me to The Billionaires Club wasn't about our friendship at all. It was just a ploy to get me out of the apartment so that her and Martin could move without me knowing about it. Why else would she have withheld this information from me? She knew I was afraid this would happen ever since she won the lottery. We even talked about it once, and she swore she'd never abandon me.
Life feels like its spiraling out of control. The world is full of deceivers. There's no one left to trust. I just want to die.
I go to my room, drop my suitcases on the floor, and throw myself onto the bed before curling up around one of the pillows and screaming into it. Never in my entire life have I ever felt so alone . . . or stupid. Duped twice in one week. I really must not by anywhere near as smart as I think I am if I can't tell that the man I was falling for didn't actually have any interest in me, and my best friend was just trying to get rid of me. Stephanie was right. I'm beyond naive.
As I lay here and plan my next move, (Literally, my next move. I can't stay here. There's no way I can afford the rent on my own) my eyes start to grow heavy. Crying has a way of wearing a person out. Crying and depression combined are like taking a sleeping pill for me. My problems will still be here when I wake up, stabbing at my heart as if they're trying to kill me. Sleep is the only peace I can get, and so I let it take me, and I pray to God that I don't wake up.
I do wake up though, and not even naturally. My eyes flutter open to the feel of hands shaking me awake. When I look up, Evelyn is gazing down on me with concern.
“Tessa, what happened?” she asks.
I'd like to ask her the same thing. Almost the second my brain recognizes her face, it snaps into angry mode. She's supposed to be my best friend, and she's moving without even telling me. I'm beyond pissed, but I also feel vulnerable, torn between wanting to talk about what happened at The Billionaires Club and wanting to scream at her for being so shitty to me.
“I left,” I grumble.
“Why?”
“It's a long story, but I'd rather you tell me the one about why the entire fucking apartment is packed up.”
She sighs, looking deflated, “It was supposed to be a surprise.”
“Well, surprise!” I shoot up into a sitting position, my eyes large and sarcastic. “I came home early and ruined everything for you.”
“Why are you being so defensive?” Her expression turns offended.
“Why shouldn't I be? You're moving out, and you weren't even going to tell me. How can I not possibly be pissed about this? You know I can't afford this apartment on my own.” I gesture around to my room.
The corner of her mouth quirks into a smirk, and she lets out a short laugh, “Is that what you thought?”
“What the hell else am I supposed to think?”
“Like I said, it was supposed to be a surprise. Martin and I bought a house . . . for all of us. We had planned to have everything, including your room, moved before you got back.”
“Oh.” I stare at her blank-faced, feeling like a complete tool. Now I look like the shitty friend, accusing her of abandoning me. I definitely should have never woke up.
Tears come unbidden to my eyes in a mix of relief and shame and pure misery. My body can't hold in this much emotion. Too much has happened in too short of a time. I'm probably going to be a crying mess for the rest of the night.
“Hey. It's okay. You didn't know.” Evelyn wraps her thin frame around me in a hug while I sob uncontrollably into her arms.
All I can manage to get out is, “I'm sorry.” I say it repeatedly, as if two or three times isn't enough.
“It's alright,” she tells me as she holds me. She's far more patient than I deserve. Far better of a friend than I deserve. She continues to embrace me until the mewling dies down, and I have control of my voice again. Then she pulls me back by the shoulders, so she can see my face. “Now tell me why you came back early.”
Reciting the story makes my heart feel like it's being stabbed repeatedly with tiny needles. Half the pain is from confessing that I had fallen for Anders. The other half is from realizing how stupid that sounds.
“I'm so sorry, Tessa. If I had known it was going to go down like that, I never would have sent you,” she tells me, her voice full of remorse. She's not angry at me at all for leaving early, for wasting a few grand of her money. I really don't deserve a friend as good as her.
“I just can't believe I fell for it. He was so convincing,” I pour my heart out to her, telling her everything I was afraid to tell her over the phone when I was at The Billionaires Club. All the gritty details.
“I didn't realize those guys were so pushy, or that they'd go so far to make you think they actually love you. That sounds a bit counterintuitive. In the consultation, they made me think it was just all fun no strings attached sex.”
“Well, it wasn't,” I sniffle, wrapping my arms around myself.
“I'm sorry. It's over now. You never have to go back, and you never have to see him again.”
That thought fills me with a sense of relief. I'm hurting now, but I'll get through this. Time heals most wounds. And with Anders out of sight and out of mind, I can forget about him like he was just a bad dream.
The next day, I pull myself together and help Evelyn and Martin continue packing. All that's left are a few odds and ends in the kitchen, their bedroom, and mine. I spend the day taking pictures off the walls and boxing up my knickknacks. Then in the afternoon, Evelyn and Martin drive me over to see the new house.
It's big but not pretentious. A nice middle-class home in a middle-class neighborhood. Evelyn could have easily afforded something three times the size, but she's money smart and says she doesn't want to have to pay ridiculously high taxes.
I'm happy to know they planned the move with me in mind, but standing in front of the house, I somehow feel guilty. They're probably going to want to start a family soon. They've only been waiting because of money issues. Now those issues are gone. Even though they said I can live here with them, this house is for their family, not me.
I decide that after the move, I'm going to focus all of my attention on putting my college degree to good use and finding a job. Once I'm up on my feet, I can get my own apartment. Hopefully, it won't take too long. While I enjoy living with Evelyn and Martin, I feel like a burden to them now that they don't actually need me to help them afford rent.
We continue packing and moving boxes throughout the week. The idea of living in a house is refreshing. I haven't lived in one since I was a teenager with my parents. It will be a bit odd having so much room for a while. I just need to try not to get used to it, because soon, it will be back into an apartment for me.
I leave my bed for last. Evelyn and Martin have been staying at the house, and I've been staying at the apartment. We decided to work it that way so that they can enjoy some alone time in their new place before I move in with them. I'm enjoying my alone time as well. Being alone allows me to gather my thoughts and plan for the future. It's also just nice not to be around people all the time for once in my life. Heck, this is even a better vacation than The Billionaires Club.
I try not to think about Anders. When I do, my heart is only filled with pain and bitterness. He's a great reminder of the scummy men in the world, that most handsome wealthy guys are unattainable in a romantic sense. They're so conditioned to getting everything they want that they'll lie, cheat, and steal to make it happen. I'm better off with a regular Joe Blow. Someone without a sense of self-importance. Someone whose feelings are always genuine and would be devastated if he lost me. The Billionaires Club didn't kill the notion of romance in my mind, it only tempered it with caution. A lesson learned. Never trust a handsome stranger.
Love should be the furthest thing from my mind now. It can wait. I have a lot of other more important things to do, like move on with my life and establish myself in the world. Once I've done that, I can fall back into fantasizing about the dream guy who will one day sweep me off my feet. Until then, the romance novels are getting shelved.
There are only a few days left until I move my bed and leave the apartment behind. The thought is bittersweet. Life is progressing, and I'm honestly not sure what that means for me. I still haven't had any luck finding a job. It's a bit disheartening. The glowing resume I've sent out hasn't even gotten a nibble. Companies want you to have a degree, but they also want you to have experience. How can you get experience if no one will hire you fresh out of college? It's a stupid conundrum.
It looks like I should have been volunteering at the college library after hours instead of working at The Gap to pay for rent. That's what I want to be, a librarian. Too bad Barnes & Noble never hired me to be a cashier. Maybe I could have used that as experience. Oh well. I see no time machine I can hop into and reverse all the mistakes I've made. All I can do is press forward. If the libraries around here won't take me, then maybe I can start by applying at book stores. Hopefully, after I get in about six months of experience, libraries will actually consider me. I truly don't know anymore. No one in college ever went over the progression of my career path with me. I just assumed I'd graduate and immediately become employed.
I'm at the end of another grueling round of Craigslist career searching when I hear a knock at the front door. It's probably Evelyn, so I ignore it. She always knocks before she comes in, just in case I'm naked. I'm not bold enough to walk around the apartment naked. Not when I know she still has a key.
A few seconds later there's another knock. With a sigh, I push myself away from my desk and head to the front door, expecting an annoying door-to-door salesman or a bible-thumper or someone else who is only going to waste my time. Not that my time is particularly important at the moment. Depending on who is standing on the other side of the door, I might not even bother answering. I try to be as quiet as I can when I approach and lean into the peephole. The person my eye focuses on makes my breath hitch.