Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
“No. He cured me of that by the way he dumped me.”
“How did that go down?”
“Like I said, it was two days before the wedding. His parents and brother had flown in from Connecticut, and we were supposed to meet them for brunch. I was getting ready when he walked into the bedroom and said, ‘I can’t do this.’ He went on to say he couldn’t marry me because he didn’t love me, and he wasn’t sure he ever really did. He also felt the need to add that he didn’t particularly like me, either.”
“That’s awful.”
“There’s more. He kept talking, and according to him, it was all my fault. I was too quiet, too introverted. I was boring, and I never wanted to go out. Well, no shit! I’ve always been like this. He knew that from day one.”
“He’s a dick.”
“I know. He also told me I was immature, and wasting my life with my job. The thing that kills me is that he encouraged me to quit programming, follow my passion, and go to art school! Why? So he could use it against me later?”
“It sounds like anything you said or did was going to be used against you, to try to justify his decision to bail.”
“That’s exactly right,” Miller said. “The bottom line was that he didn’t want to be with me. But like you said, he felt like he needed reasons for that, so he started listing everything he thought was wrong with me. This went on for a while, and by the time he was done, I felt like the most worthless piece of shit on the planet.”
“I hope you told him to go fuck himself.”
“I wish I had. Instead, I told him very calmly that his timing sucked, and that it would have been nice to know all of this even a week sooner. Then I grabbed my phone and laptop, drove to the first hotel I could find, and checked in. I sent all our guests a group email telling them the wedding was off, and then I called and canceled each of our vendors, who reminded me that none of this was refundable on such short notice. After that, I put the do-not-disturb sign on the door, curled up in a ball under the covers, and spent most of the next three days crying.”
“I’m so sorry, Miller.”
“It’s okay. It actually helped to let it out. Once my tears dried up, I cobbled together a new life for myself. Fortunately I had the next two weeks off, because I was supposed to be on my honeymoon in Bali. During that time, I liquidated my stock options and bought this flat. Since I was paying cash, I managed a ten-day escrow, which was great. By the time my ‘honeymoon’ was over, I’d moved in here and started the next chapter of my life.”
I asked, “Did you ever really process what happened to you?”
“I tried to. I gave therapy a shot, but it seemed less helpful than the evenings I spent venting to Daria over countless bottles of wine.”
“I’m glad she was there for you.”
He murmured, “Me, too,” and fell silent for a while before saying, “I knew I’d run into him eventually, and I’d been wondering what it would feel like. Now I know. There’s definitely still some residual anger, but today I got to show him that he didn’t break me, and that felt good. I’m glad you were there, and that you pretended to be my boyfriend. I really wanted to show him I’d moved on.”
“But have you?”
Miller frowned and asked, “What do you mean?”
“Don’t get me wrong, I think you’re doing great. You’re healing, and that takes time. But you haven’t really started your next chapter,” I said. “That’ll happen when you unpack your boxes, turn this place into a home instead of a crash pad, and start dating again.”
“I fully intend to. I just haven’t gotten around to it yet.” He got up, sticking his feet into his slides as he said, “Speaking of wine, I’d love some right about now. Can I pour you a glass?”
“Sure.”
He left the room, and I grabbed the food I’d brought with me and hurried after him. The cat, who’d been sitting in the doorway throughout all of this, hurried after me in turn.
Miller half-filled two juice glasses with white wine from the fridge and handed me one. I said, “Cheers,” and raised it to my lips, but I didn’t actually drink any, because I hated the taste of wine. He needed a drinking buddy though, so he didn’t need to know that.
When he didn’t say anything for a minute, I decided to lighten the mood with, “Show me your alleged tomato plant.”
He grinned at me. “Alleged? You don’t think I grew that tomato?”
“Seeing is believing.”