Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 75983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“Post-holiday funk.” I channeled Alexander’s indifference, right down to the hand wave and dismissive tone. “Don’t worry yourself.”
“If you’re sure…” She quirked her mouth as if she wanted to say more, so I forced another bright smile.
“I’m sure.” I returned to my chair. “As soon as I finish up here, I have a Friday game night tonight. That will help.”
“Enjoy, darling.” Mom didn’t sound entirely convinced, which was fine because I also lacked certainty as to what might help my funk. But Troy had sent out the invites for the first game night of the new year, and I hadn’t been able to summon a decent excuse.
After completing the flyer, I gathered my decks and the cheese plate I’d picked up earlier. The cheese plate made me think of Alexander, but then, every little thing made me think of Alexander, from my rumpled bed to my shark deck to the back stairs to my apartment.
Sighing at my ridiculousness, I headed to Troy’s store, resigned to endure the evening.
“You made it!” Irma, at least, was happy to see me. “I made champagne-and-strawberry-inspired whoopie pies since this is the first game night of the new year.”
“And we did seaweed wraps for anyone making healthy resolutions.” Ari floated over. The vegetable wraps were almost the same shade as her emerald evening gown, which she’d worn again.
“Any resolutions for you?” Chris came up on my other side. He wore a Hollyberry Elementary sweatshirt and his usual wide grin.
“Not really.” I’d been far too down about Alexander leaving to make a single resolution this year. My conversation with my mother, though, had me contemplating whether I should resolve to work on my self-esteem.
You’re cute, hot, and sweet. There’s no one else I’d rather take to this party. Alexander’s comment on the train rang in my ears. God, I missed him so much. My chest ached.
“Not even to drink more coffee now that your ballet dancer has left?” Chris raised his eyebrows at me.
“He’s not my dancer.” I sounded so forlorn that Ari turned back from arranging her seaweed wraps to give me a hug.
“But you wish he were.” Chris guessed accurately, and some of the sparkle dimmed from his eyes.
“Yeah.” I hated letting the guy down, but my heart had an Alexander-sized hole that wouldn’t be easily filled. “It might be a while before I…drink coffee.”
“No worries.” Chris used an easy tone, but he glanced around the room, undoubtedly looking for an escape from my sadness over Alexander.
“Are you going to do the whole bi-coastal thing?” Ari asked, keeping one arm around me. “My sister and her then-fiancée did that when they were in different PhD programs.”
“That sounds miserable.” I groaned at the mere thought of years’ worth of graduate school on opposite coasts. “And hard. They broke up?”
“No, they’re married now.” Ari laughed like the long-distance thing was a side quest rather than the main villain in her sister’s story. “They have two kids. They teach at different universities, but both are in the Philly area. No more four-time-zone commute.”
“Oh.” My voice was flat, but my mind was racing. Had Alexander and I given up too easily?
“It was a rough couple of years, but luckily, nothing lasts forever.” Ari gave a shrug, the fur trim on her dress rippling like a cat stretching. She was right that nothing lasted forever. I’d assumed all along that Alexander and I were destined for a single season. Was it logistics that had held me back or my own doubts? Those pesky thoughts about self-worth from earlier returned to nag at me. I’d been so afraid of Alexander’s rejection that I hadn’t allowed myself to answer honestly.
My brain continued to churn long after Ari drifted away. I managed a few bites of food, but I kept eyeing the exit, ready to be alone with my thoughts.
“Up for a game?” Troy asked before I could go in search of my coat.
“Come on. Join us,” Chris urged. On his other side, Irma nodded enthusiastically. Chris was handling my rejection rather well. Perhaps I owed him a game if nothing else.
“I suppose I can.” I took a seat next to Irma at the table. Unable to escape memories of Alexander, I reached for my shark deck. Might as well play a round in tribute to his bloodthirsty ways. My stomach twisted with a fresh wave of longing.
I shifted my attention to the game, trying to let it be the distraction I sorely needed. However, it didn’t take long for Troy to slice through my army of sharks.
“Heck.” I groaned as I was the first to be defeated. “How did you do that?”
“Easy. You’re too predictable.” Troy gave a good-natured laugh.
“You do use the same strategy a lot, dear,” Irma added when I glared at Troy.
Heck. Maybe they were both right. I was rather easy to read. And stubborn. I’d been so certain of the outcome that I’d been afraid to try a different approach with Alexander. I’d fallen back on old feelings of inadequacy and given up rather than fighting for what I truly wanted.