Chapter 15 (5/22/16)

            I wanted to put in a full price offer but Mike talked me into going in lower.  It was already after 8pm, so Mike warned me that I probably wouldn’t hear back that night.  I still jumped every time my phone vibrated.  Or when I heard something that sounded remotely like a vibrating phone. 

Once I got home, I pulled my phone out.  I had several texts from Kelly and Erica, and a response from Dan.  It said, “Sure, let me know when.  Good luck!”  I was glad he understood, and I texted him back, “Well, I just made an offer!  And how about tomorrow?”  I got an immediate text back saying, “Awesome! Good luck!  I have dinner plans tomorrow but could do drinks around 9.  Otherwise I’m free Saturday.”  We settled on drinks on Friday, then I text Kelly and Erica to tell them the good news, then headed home.

I didn’t hear anything that night, and I didn’t sleep.  I lay awake, alternately tossing and turning, then staring at the ceiling, imagine how I would furnish and decorate my new house.  Then I’d have to remind myself that it wasn’t my house yet. 

            By the next morning, I was anxious.  The house went on the market today, and I had hoped to have a deal made before that happened, so someone else didn’t come in and make a better offer.  I wished that Mike hadn’t talked me out of offering full asking price.  Then I reminded myself that he knew what he was doing and I did not.

            I tried to not be glued to my phone while I worked on Friday, but it was nearly impossible not to be.  Luckily, my office was fairly casual and no one cared about our phone use, as long as we weren’t ignoring our job duties.  I finally got a call from Mike around 3, and after asking one of my coworkers to cover the phones for me, I hurried outside and quickly called him back.  “Well?” I asked, when he answered.

            “Hi, Jenna,” he replied with a laugh.  “I’m sorry, they didn’t accept your offer.  They countered at full asking price.”

            “Well that’s stupid,” I grumbled.  “Let’s just do that.”

            “I think you should ask for them to pay closing costs if you’re going to pay asking,” he suggested.

            I sighed in frustration.  “I just want this house,” I told him.  “Let’s just make it happen.”

            “Jenna, they haven't listed it yet.”

            “What do you mean?” I asked, not fully understanding him.

            “I mean, they planned to list it today, but they haven’t done anything with it yet.  I assume that means they plan to sell it to you.  Let’s ask for closing costs.”

            I considered this and then relented.  “Fine,” I agreed.

            “You’re making the right decision,” Mike assured me.  “I’ll call you back as soon as I hear something.”

            As it turned out, I didn’t have to wait for long.  Mike called me back about a half hour later.  I again asked a coworker to cover the phones, which she did gladly.  The whole office was about as excited as I was to find out about the house.  “Hello?” I answered, a little more politely than I had earlier.

            “Congratulations!” Mike crowed.  “The house is yours!  Pending financing and the inspection, of course.”  But I barely even heard that part, because I was too busy jumping up and down and squealing.  Yes, actually jumping and squealing.  Don’t pretend like you wouldn’t!  “They also agreed to the quick close that you wanted, but that means you need to move fast to get your inspection scheduled and get stuff taken care of with the bank.  You don’t have time to lose on this, Jenna.” 

            Luckily, I had already done my inspection research and had the numbers of two different inspectors that were highly recommended.  As soon as I hung up with Mike, I called the first one.  I left a message, then called the second.  Someone answered, and I managed to get an inspection scheduled for Monday. 

            I decided to put off calling and cancelling my lease until after the inspection, just in case.  I had a feeling I would lose my entire deposit, but the rental market was pricey enough here that I’d still actually save some money over the course of the year.  Provided, of course, that nothing catastrophic happened where I’d need to replace or fix anything major.

            I did, however, reschedule my movers.  I figured regardless of what happened with this house, I’d be moving one way or the other, so I’d better just reschedule and not cancel. They weren’t very happy with the last minute change, and I apologized profusely and ended up paying a rescheduling fee, but got them rescheduled for when I wanted them.

            When I went back inside, an expectant head popped out of the office closest to my desk.  “Well?” asked Rachael, one of my favorite coworkers.  I couldn’t hide my huge grin and her face lit up.  “You bought a house!” she shrieked, earning a disapproving glare from one of the more senior employees.  “You bought a house!” she repeated, her volume much more reasonable.

            “I bought a house!” I confirmed, grinning like an idiot.  “Well, I committed to buying a house, provided the inspection goes okay and the bank comes through with the loan.”

            Rachael rolled her eyes at me.  “Stop it,” she said.  “Let’s do happy hour after work!”

            “I have a date at 9, but could definitely do something right after work,” I agreed.

            Rachael cocked an eyebrow.  “A date at 9?  What kind of date is that?  A ‘date’?” she asked, using air quotes around the word date.

            Just then, the office phone rang, and I hurried back to my desk.  “I’ll tell you about it after work,” I promised.  I made it to the phone just in time to pick it up.  “Smithson Staffing Solutions, this is Jenna, how can I help you today?” I answered brightly.  Rachael snorted.  She said I had a special voice that I used for answering the phone, and she thought it was hilarious.

            Luckily, the last hour of work went quickly, and Rachael and I walked over to a nearby restaurant that had great happy hour specials.  We ordered drinks and a couple appetizers to share, and then I filled her in on my date.  “It’s just a second date,” I explained.  “We were supposed to go to dinner last night but I bailed on him to go look at this house, so we rescheduled for tonight.”

            “At 9?” she asked skeptically.

            “Yes, at 9,” I replied, rolling my eyes.  “I’m not looking for anything serious anyway, so don’t start on your ‘No man that wants to be your boyfriend is okay with just taking you out for drinks in the middle of the night’ speech.”

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she scoffed. 

            “I’ve heard you give the same speech to Katie and Erin,” I pointed out.  “And anyway, 9 isn’t even that late.”

            Rachael shrugged.  “When you catch feelings and he’s 1am booty-calling you, don’t come crying to me.” 

            “I won’t,” I assured her. “But when he catches feelings and I just want a 1am booty call, I might come crying to you.  Because that’s annoying.”  She laughed and let me change the subject.  We stayed for a couple hours before I figured I should probably head home and get ready for my date. 

            Kevin was in the living room when I got there, so I took the opportunity to update him.  “My moving date has changed. I’m having movers come on the first now.  Sorry for the switch.”

            “Okay,” he replied.  He didn’t move his eyes from the TV.  I didn’t wait for him to say anything else, I just turned and walked downstairs.  I jumped in the shower, careful not to wet my hair.  I redid my makeup, used my curling wand to put some loose waves in my hair, and pulled on a casual but cute outfit. 

            “Going out?” Kevin asked, as I came upstairs and headed to the closet for my boots and coat.

            “Yep,” I answered, not saying anything else. 

            “Cool,” he replied, sounding bored.  I pulled my boots and coat on, grabbed my purse from where I’d set it on the floor, and left without another word to him.

            I was in such a hurry that I didn’t even realize how early I was until I parked.  It was only 8:40.  I briefly considered just going in and getting a table and having a drink by myself while I waited, then quickly discarded that idea, because I was just not confident enough to drink by myself in a bar.  So I fiddled with my phone, reapplied my lip gloss three times, and managed to smudge the wing of my eyeliner while trying to de-clump a tiny section of eyelashes—all in the span of a mere 4 minutes.  I was so intent on distracting myself that I jumped when my phone sounded from my purse on the passenger seat.             

            “I got here a little early so I grabbed us a table,” Dan’s text said.  I laughed to myself that he had done exactly what I hadn’t.  I didn’t want to look like a crazy person, so I forced myself to wait 3 minutes before I replied.  “Just got here, I’ll be in shortly!”

            I checked my makeup and hair one more time and then headed inside.  “Hi,” I greeted Dan as I found the table he had taken over. 

            “Hi,” he replied.  “You look great.” 

            “Thanks,” I said.  I realized as we greeted each other that our greetings sounded a little stiff.  I chalked it up to nerves, but noticed that I didn’t really feel any sort of excitement when I saw him.  This isn’t the movies, Jen, I scolded myself in my head.  And anyway, you’re not looking for anything serious.  You’ve just got to get back into the game.

            “So, any word on the house?” he asked, when I returned from the bar with a drink.  I recounted the story for him, and he seemed genuinely happy for me.  I relaxed a little and we settled into easy conversation. 

            About two hours into our date, Dan frowned thoughtfully, and then said, “This is really random, but can I ask what you’re looking for?”

            “What I’m looking for?” I repeated.  “What do you mean?”

            “Like, are you looking for a relationship, something casual, you know?”

            “Oh!” I replied, blushing.  “Obviously.  Something casual.  I’m not in a hurry to get in a relationship, so casual dating and…well…” I blushed even darker, realizing what I just implied.

            Dan bit his lip, trying not to laugh at me.  “Got it,” he said, nodding and saving me from whatever embarrassing thing was about to explode out of my mouth. 

            I took a long drink of my gin and tonic to give myself a chance to collect myself.  “What about you?” I asked, when I had it together again.

            “The same,” he replied, taking a casual sip of his beer.  “If I find something great, then that’s awesome.  But I’m not looking for it.”

            I thought that going back to regular conversation would be hard after that random interjection, but it wasn’t. We ended up staying another couple of hours before parting ways.  

            Since we’d both made our intentions clear, I hoped that the evening would end with at least a kiss, if not an invitation back to his place.  It had been far too long since I’d kissed a new person (Jamie didn’t count, because I’ve kissed him before), and I was slightly giddy with anticipation. But Dan just hugged me and promised to text to set something else up for next week.  Disappointed, I got into my car, wondering if he’d actually even text.

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Chapter 14 (5/15/16)

           Here's a bonus to thank you all for your patience with my crazy schedule!  Don't miss Chapter 13, posted yesterday (Saturday)!
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           “Not that,” Erica texted in response to my picture of a potential outfit.  I was getting ready to have dinner with Dan, and I had apparently forgotten how to dress myself.  “Too much for a second date.” 

            I was trying to decide on something else when my phone started to ring.  I reached for it, confused to see Mike’s name across the screen.  When I had signed the lease on the rental, I’d let him know I’d give him a call when I was ready to look for something to buy again.  Curiosity pushed me to answer. “Hello?”

            “Jenna, it’s Mike,” the familiar voice said.  “Look, I know you signed a lease, but one of my coworkers just got a listing that is perfect for you.  It’s near the top of--but within--your price range, and it’s going to go really fast.  It’s going on the market tomorrow, but I can take you to it tonight and you can have the first shot at it.”

            I paused and considered this.  Then, hoping Dan would understand, I told Mike to text me the address.  I hung up and texted Dan.  “Remember how I told you I was moving?  I had hoped to buy, but ended up renting?  My realtor just called me with a house that’s not even on the market yet, and I need to go see it.  Can we reschedule, please?”  Then I changed out of my ‘too much for a second date’ outfit and into jeans and a sweatshirt and hurried out of the house.

            I looked at the address that Mike had texted skeptically.  It was not the best neighborhood.  But I drove there anyway, excited to see the place. 

            Mike was already there when I got there, and I parked behind him in the driveway.  The house was small, but it had an attached single car garage, and it was clear that the outside had been well cared for.  It was hard to tell in the dark, but many of the houses on this street looked to be in better shape than those on some of the other nearby streets.

            I looked around curiously as I got out of the car.  “Don’t judge the neighborhood in the dark,” Mike called as he got out.  “This area is up and coming.”

            I rolled my eyes at the realty buzzword and crossed my arms across my chest to ward off the freezing night air.  “What’s so special about this house, then?” I asked.

            Even in the dark I could see Mike grin.  “Glad you asked,” he said.  “It’s recently remodeled.  New floors, new counters and cabinets, fresh paint, brand new appliances, and a new roof to boot.  Everything has been updated.  It’s small, but it has the biggest master closet you’ll ever see in a home in your price range.  Lots of storage space too.  The garage is a single stall, but it’s extra deep.  The basement is partially finished and wouldn’t need much work to finish up.”

            “Why is it priced so low?” I asked skeptically.

            “The neighborhood and the size, mostly,” he replied.  “It was a three bedroom, but the third bedroom was so small that the previous owners turned it into the master closet, so now it only has 2 bedrooms.  Not a good move for resale value, honestly, but perfect for you.”

            “Well, let’s go in then,” I told him.

            The house was beautiful on the inside.  As Mike said, it was clear that a lot of remodeling had been done.  There was a half bath just inside the door from the garage.  It was small, but it was clean and updated.  We walked into the kitchen, which had a pale blue, white, gray and back backsplash which coordinated nicely with the pale gray color of the walls.  White quartz countertops, black cabinets, and stainless steel appliances topped everything off.  “So far so good,” I said, looking around appreciatively.  The kitchen was small, but the space was well used and there was plenty of counter space and cabinets.  I pulled open a door off the kitchen and found a narrow, deep pantry there as well. 

            The rest of the main level was cozy. There was a small dining space off the kitchen, which just enough room for a table that seats 4, max. One wall was almost completely taken up by a sliding glass door that went out to a small patio.  I flipped the outside light on and saw that the patio had a fire pit on the right side with built in seating around it.  There was still plenty of space for a small patio furniture set on the left side.  It was lined on either side with what looked like raised flowerbeds.  The flowerbeds followed the patio around the corners on either side, leaving a 5-foot gap or so for entering the rest of the yard. 

            The dining area flowed seamlessly into the living room.  On one wall of the living room was a gas fireplace, which excited me.  It had been on my “would be nice” list, and this was the first house we’d even looked at that had one.  That concluded the tour of the main level, and Mike led me through the entry way and past the front door to the stairs.  As we followed the stairs up, Mike said, “The third bedroom was too small and didn’t have a closet so they moved part of the wall a bit, moved the door, and turned it into a spectacular closet for the master.  I think you’ll like it.” 

            I walked into the second bedroom first.  It was small and had a laughable closet.  But it was bright and cheerful and would make a very nice guestroom.  I went into the bathroom next.  It was a decent size with a standard tub and shower combination. 

            Finally, I went into the master bedroom.  It was larger than the other bedroom, but still not large by any stretch of the imagination.  It was big enough to fit my queen sized bed, nightstands, and dresser, at least.  There was no hope of ever upgrading to a king sized bed, though.  I pulled open a door and walked into the most glorious closet I had ever seen.  The long wall had floor to ceiling shelves right in the middle, and racks for hangers stretching from either side.  On the opposite side, the side with the door, built-in shelves for clothing and shoes lined the wall.  There was a window at one end with frosted, textured glass, and beneath it stood a large vanity.  Running down the middle of the room was an island filled with drawers. 

            “I could live here,” I said, looking around in wonder.  “Right here, in this closet.”

            “I thought you’d like it,” Mike replied, grinning.  “The built in drawers and shelves in here free up some space in the bedroom, because you won’t need a dresser in there.”   I nodded and looked back into the bedroom, imagining where I’d put my bed. “Do you want to see the basement?”

            We took a cursory look at the basement, but it didn’t matter.  I wanted this house.  “Well, what do you think?” Mike asked when we were back up in the kitchen.

            “I love it,” I said.  “It’s small…how many square feet?”

            “Just over 1000,” he answered.  “Not including the basement.”  I nodded.  It was small, but I didn’t need much space.  It was a huge downsize from my current 3000 square foot living situation, but this house felt so much bigger because Kevin wasn’t lurking around. 

            “It’s going to be hard to sell again, though,” I said, recalling what Mike had said about the resale value. 

            “True,” he agreed.  “You could probably rent it out for a decent price though, should you ever move and can’t or don’t want to sell it.  And give this neighborhood a few years, and it will improve significantly.”

            I considered this.  The neighborhood was not ideal.  This part looked okay, but the surrounding area was not good.  “This house is perfect for you, Jenna,” Mike said.  “You’re not going to find anything else in your price range that checks as many of the boxes as this one does.”

           He was right.  I knew he was.  I took a deep breath, then grinned.  “Let’s put in an offer.  Right now.”

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Chapter 13 (5/14/16)

I have the best news, friends!  99.8% of my work for school is done, and I graduate in one week!  Guess what that means?  That means I'm going to try to get you guys more than one post every other week.  In fact, I'd like to get you all posts more than once a week!  I'm not going to set a schedule because I need to get back into the swing of things.  I will consider setting a schedule in the future, but for now I'm going to post when I can.  I know that's a pain for you all, but you can follow me on Bloglovin', by email, or via Blogger to make it easier to keep track of my likely erratic posting.  Thank you for your patience while I wrap up this crazy time of my life!

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The rest of my time at my parents’ house was uneventful.  My parents stopped acting as if I was either going to break or flip out at any point, and I was able to relax a little.  But eventually, of course, I had to head home.  Or to Kevin’s home, rather. 

Spending some time away was just another thing that made me realize how much I needed to move out.  I spent a lot of time looking at houses, but as December gave way to January, I knew I needed to start looking at rentals.  Between looking at houses I did not want to buy, I began looking at apartments and townhomes. 

Two weeks into January, I found a small townhome for rent that I really liked.  Fighting down my disappointment and bitterness, I paid the application fee and filled out the paperwork.  When I heard back that my application had been approved, I signed a lease and paid the deposit.  My lease would start on February 1^st, but I would be able to pay a partial month and move in as soon as the 20^th of January. 

I began packing with renewed vigor.  Sure, I wasn’t moving into my own house that I owned (or would own in 30 years when I finished paying the bank), but I was getting out of this terrible living situation.  I wouldn’t have to see Kevin’s face any more.  I wouldn’t have to hear him, or talk to him, or worry about walking in on him with his whores. 

I also started actually paying attention to the dating site that Chelsea had created my profile on.  Seeing Jamie had reminded me that dating and having sex was fun, and I was maybe ready to do a little more of it.  I had yet to respond to any messages, because most of them were short and stupid or blatantly creepy.  I also had yet to send a message, because I wasn’t that invested in dating.  But as I was scrolling through the messages I’d accumulated over the weeks, one of them caught my eye.  The message was funny, the guy was cute, and his profile was actually interesting.  I took far too long to craft a perfect message back to him, read it over three times, and hit send.  I immediately rolled my eyes at myself for caring so much about sending the “perfect” message to some strange guy on the internet, but I was new at this. 

I spent the rest of my evening messaging back and forth with him.  So far it seemed like he had a good sense of humor (and actually got my dry, sarcastic wit), plus he had a job and owned a house, which is always promising. 

When I woke up in the morning, I had another message waiting for me.  “Really enjoyed our chat last night.  I’d love to meet you.  I hope this isn’t too forward, but call or text me if you’d like to.”  He’d finished it up with his number and his first name, which was Dan.  I couldn’t help but be a little giddy.  I programmed his number into my phone, but decided to wait to text him. 

I made it all the way to lunch before I decided I had waited enough.  I sent a text telling him who I was and that I’d definitely like to meet him, but I’d like to talk a little more first.  I was nervous as I hit send, but it was a good kind of nervous.  He responded 10 minutes later, and we texted on and off all day.  And all week.  By the end of the week, I was comfortable enough to set up a casual coffee “date” with him for Saturday evening. 

“Are you Jenna?” The question came from a tall, lean man, walking towards me from the other end of the parking lot.

“Maybe,” I replied with a smirk.  “Are you Dan?”

He chuckled.  “I am.”  He stuck his hand out and I took it, shaking it firmly.  “Shall we?” he motioned towards the door and I nodded and walked inside. 

Once inside, we got in line to order our beverages.  I ordered a medium chai latte with coconut flavoring and paid for it, and he ordered a mug of green tea.  We took our beverages over to a small table near the fireplace and sat. 

We engaged in standard “getting to know you” conversation.  He had two sisters and a brother, all older.  He had a dog and some fish.  He lived near the hospital.  He worked for an insurance company and preferred the indoors to the outdoors.  We talked for four hours, until the coffee shop employees began wiping off tables and sweeping the floor.  When we left, we made plans to get together again.  I wondered for a second if he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t. 

Kevin came home one day while I was packing up my DVDs, carefully pulling them from the shelf where they mixed amongst his.  “I’m having movers come on the 30th,” I told him without looking up.  “I’ll have all my stuff out of here by the 31^st.”

“Okay,” he responded.  “Can I ask you a question?”

“If you have to,” I replied, still not looking at him.

“Do you ever regret our divorce?”

I froze for a second, then put the DVD in my hand into the box and turned and looked at him.  “No,” I said bluntly. “I don’t.”

He nodded and considered this.  “It just happened so fast,” he said calmly.

I cocked my head and narrowed my eyes slightly.  I took a deep breath to compose myself, then said, “I can understand how it seemed fast for you, but for me it was two years in the making.  More, if we’re both being honest.”

He shrugged, then stood.  “I did love you, you know,” he said.

“Okay,” I replied. 

            He stood for several more seconds, waiting.  I didn’t say anything.  He walked towards the doorway.  When he reached it, he paused.  Without turning around, he said, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m much happier now than I ever was when we were married.  But I did love you.”

          “Fuck you,” I muttered.  But he didn’t hear me, because he was already gone.

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Chapter 12 (5/7/16)

My dad handed me a glass of wine as I stormed in.  “She didn’t tell them,” I growled.  “You didn’t either!”

“I thought she did,” my dad said contritely.  “She said she was going to.”  I rubbed my forehead and sighed, feeling bad about my mini tantrum.  “I’m sorry, Jenna.”

“I am too,” I replied weakly.  “I’m not trying to be a brat, but this is so hard already.  And then to be blindsided like that…It just sucks.”

“I know,” he assured me.  “Here, stir this.”  He handed me a spoon and wandered out of the kitchen, leaving me to mindlessly stir and calm down. 

He returned in a couple minutes, relieving me of stirring duty.  I wandered into the living room, where everyone was watching A Christmas Story.  I sighed in relief and sat down.  I could use a mindlessly funny distraction.  No one said anything to me, and they were all very careful to keep their faces turned towards the TV.  Fine with me. 

Everyone tiptoed around me for about an hour, but finally loosened up at dinner when I cracked a joke.  No one mentioned Kevin or my divorce again.  Once everyone left, my mom looked at me.  “Jenna, I’m sorry,” she said.

“I know,” I said.  “I’m sorry too.  For being a bitch about it.”

She looked as though she was going to say something about my language, then thought better of it.  “Are you angry at me?” she asked instead.

“No, I’m just…tired of feeling shitty,” I admitted.  This was maybe the most honest thing I’d said to anyone since the divorce was finalized.  I quickly realized my mistake when my mom frowned sympathetically.  I’m so uncomfortable with people feeling sorry for me.  “I’m okay, mom,” I said quickly.  She hugged me anyway, and I hugged her back.  “I think I’m going to head to bed,” I told her after we separated.

I had a hard time falling asleep that night, and when I finally did, I was plagued by nightmares.  The worst was the one about the very first day I found out that Kevin cheated on me, long before we ever even thought about getting married.

He was three quarters of the way through his first year in med school.  It was hard—much harder than I’d anticipated.  I was a junior, on my 2nd major: communications.  I couldn’t seem to figure out what I wanted to do with my life so I figured I could get a fairly generic degree and figure it out later.  That’s what grad school is for, right?  Anyway, Kevin was at the U of M, 2 and a half long hours away.  And he was so busy that even though we were 7 weeks into the semester, I’d only seen him once since winter break. Luckily, we both had spring break the next week, and I was going down to stay with him for the week. I missed him.

It was pretty late on a Wednesday night.  I remember it was Wednesday.  I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.  I was getting ready for bed when my phone rang.  Whoever went to bed first called to say goodnight, so I wasn’t surprised to see it was Kevin.  I quickly finished brushing my teeth and answered as I walked out of the bathroom and back to my room.  “Hey, honey,” I said cheerfully.  “How was your day?”

“It wasn’t good,” he answered, and he sounded weird.

“What do you mean?” I demanded.  “What’s wrong?”

“Jenna, I have to tell you something.  But first I want to say that I’m really, really sorry, and I love you.  I really love you.  A lot.”

“What did you do?” I asked frantically.  My heart was pounding and I felt sick to my stomach.  This was not what I was expecting, and I knew it wasn’t good.  I knew.

“Jenna, baby, I love you.”

“You said that already,” I growled back.  “Tell me what you did.”

He didn’t say anything for several seconds.  And then…did he sniffle?  I couldn’t tell.  Finally, he said, “Jenna, I’ve made some mistakes lately.  Some really bad mistakes.  I don’t know what I was thinking.  I miss you, and it’s hard not to see you, and school is really stressful.”  He stopped and I was so frustrated I almost hung up on him.  Luckily, he continued after a brief pause.  “Baby, I’ve been cheating on you.”

“What?” I asked, confused.  “No.  No, you haven’t.  You wouldn’t.”  I didn’t want to believe him.

“Jenna,” he said softly.  “I’m sorry.”  And then he definitely sniffled.  And then he sniffled again. 

The full weight of what was happening hit me then.  “Fuck you,” I said.  “Oh, fuck you.  You asshole!  You piece of shit!  Is that why you haven’t let me come see you?  Because you’re too busy fucking your sidepiece?  Is she prettier than me?  Is she going to be a doctor too? I hope it was worth it.  I hope she’s a real good fuck, because if you cheated on me for mediocre piece of ass, I swear I will—“

“Jenna,” he cut me off.  “Calm down.”

“Oh no,” I raged.  “You don’t get to tell me to calm down!  You want me calm?  You should have thought about that before you went and stuck your dick in some whore who—“

“Jenna!” he said, louder.  “Seriously, can you even blame me?  Look at the way you’re acting.”

That shut me up really fast.   I collected my thoughts, and then calmly said, “I don’t have anything else to say to you.  Don’t call me back.” Then I hung up.

Of course, he didn’t follow directions.  Within 5 minutes, he’d called me 4 times, texted 12, and left 3 voicemails.  I didn’t read the messages.  I didn’t listen to the voicemails.  Eventually, I turned my phone off. 

In the morning, I read the texts.  I listened to the voicemails.  I’d accrued 28 more texts and 4 more voicemails overnight.  They started out pleading.  Then they moved to angry.  They ended with him crying.  That’s right.  I had an entire 47 second voicemail that consisted only of him crying and begging me to call him back. 

He called me periodically throughout the day.  I ignored each one, sending him to voicemail.  He didn’t leave any more voicemails.  He didn’t send any more texts. 

My roommate left Friday morning for spring break and I used my solitude to wallow and mourn the loss of my boyfriend.  Except then he showed up at my apartment.  I don’t know who I was expecting when I heard the knock at the door, but it wasn’t him. 

He looked awful.  Terrible.  His eyes were bloodshot.  He looked exhausted.  He was pale.  He probably looked worse than me.  “Why are you here?” I asked him, fighting to keep my strong, uncaring façade.  But the truth was that looking at him and seeing his anguish, my resolve to end it all and move on was fading fast.

“Please let me in, Jenna,” he said softly, hanging his head.  “Please.  Just let me talk to you.”

I stared at him for long enough to make him shift his weight uncomfortably and glance awkwardly over my shoulder.  Then I silently stepped aside and let him in.  “How’d you even get in the building?” I asked.

“I saw Amanda coming out, and she let me in,” he said.  Amanda was the girl that lived across the hall.  We hung out occasionally, so she knew Kevin. 

“Oh,” I said.  We went to the couch and I motioned for him to sit.  Then I sat on the opposite end, as far as away from him as I could get.  “Um, do you want some water or something?” I asked.

“No,” he replied.  “I just want to apologize.  I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.  I was an idiot.  I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.  I’ll do whatever you want me to do.  Jenna, I miss you, and I love you, and I fucked up.  I’m sorry I fucked up.”

I bit my lip, because I missed him and loved him too.  And he looked so distressed and upset and sorry and pathetic.  And then my chin quivered and I tried to swallow, but it was hard.  “Damn it, Kevin,” I managed, before I burst into tears.

It was the first time I’d cried since he confessed, believe it or not, and the floodgates were open.  Once I’d started, I couldn’t stop.  I sobbed, and when he moved to my end of the couch and wrapped his arms around me, I curled into him and buried my face in his chest.  He stroked my hair and my back and whispered, “I’m so sorry, Jenna.  I’m so sorry,” over and over.  And then he cried too.

When I finally stopped crying, I tilted my head up to kiss him, desperate to feel something else.  One thing led to another, and we ended up in my bed.  When we were done, I said, “I don’t know how I’m going to trust you.”

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do,” he assured me.  “I’ll earn your trust back.  You can look through my phone.  I’ll tell you every detail of my day.  I’ll do whatever you want.”

I sucked in a shaky breath and said, “We’ll figure it out.”

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No post for this week.

Hi guys!  I'm sorry to say there won't be a post for this week.  I'm down to the wire with some things for school and feeling hopelessly overwhelmed.  My goal is to get a post or two up next week, but I will keep you posted (no pun intended).  I do so appreciate your patience and understanding as I wrap up my school career here!

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