Page 48 of Playing For Keeps

“Spill.”

Farren resisted the urge to roll her eyes, instead taking a sip of the dry red wine, letting its bitterness coat the back of her throat before she spoke.

“We fought. It didn’t go well. End of story.” End of relationship.

Understatement of the century. You both fucked up there, and the pieces are still scattered on the ground.

“What were you fighting about?” Corinne leaned closer, trying to be heard over the bad cover band singing U2 in the other room with the small, elevated stage.

“We seemed to have differing views on things. I wanted love, he wanted to focus on his job. At least I found out pretty early on.” Farren felt herself tucking her lips into a taut line, ignoring the uncomfortable stretch of her breath around her heartache.

“Farren—” Corinne warned, knowing there was more to the story. Farren turned toward her friend, leaning into her hair to talk over the music and avoid eye contact at the same time.

“He blamed me for his demotion, basically alluded to the fact that I was just like his ex who derailed his career. Said I was directionless and wasting my life. I told him he was heartless and so married to the idea of his job, he was missing out on something real.” Farren sat back and shrugged, pretending it didn’t hurt her.

Repeating it sucked. The words she’d been ruminating on, obsessing over, were at least somewhat in the open now. She didn’t repeat the words taunting her at night when she struggled to sleep.

Those insidious inner statements about her not being serious or driven or good enough. They chased her, unrelenting. Because they weren’t wrong. She was silly, she enjoyed goofing off and enjoying what each day brought rather than planning for the future. Farren wasn’t settled in her job, in her future. All of it was fluid, where Sebastian was rigid. His ideas had been cemented long before her, and his needs were beyond what she could provide.

How could she stop loving him—turn off the flow of her feelings to make him feel more comfortable? Farren wasn’t a liar. She couldn’t put it aside and do so convincingly. Sebastian wasn’t ready. He might never be. But she’d come too far to turn back now. It was hypocritical of him to damn her for this, then turn around and berate her lack of career commitment.

Farren could commit when necessary; she’d wanted to try and go there with him. There’d barely been time to navigate the intense feelings he evoked. Now he was gone. All those feelings floated around, tangled in a mess of agony and anger at how things turned out. He was the one running away this time.

“What a dick. Honestly. You’re like the best thing that’s happened to him. He needs you to shake up his life a little. Such an uptight ass.” Corinne held her glass out for Farren to clink her own against. She did, halfheartedly.

“It’s not my problem anymore. He made it clear where his priorities lie, and they weren’t with me.”

Even though we’d only known each other a few months, and he’d worked on this for years between his old job and this one. Farren could do this. She could brush it off. She tried to get comfortable on the bar chair, but the seat was hard and unyielding.

“Where do you go from here?” Corinne’s question was gentle, and Farren appreciated that she wasn’t trying to insert her own ideas into the situation. She didn’t need a spiel about being better off without him or forgiving and forgetting.

Farren needed time.

So much shifted for her. She needed to process through it, work through her own plans and ideas and decide where she was headed. She couldn’t keep waiting for life to happen to her.

“I’m not sure, to be honest. I have all these bits and pieces floating around in my brain. One part thinks I should go to college to get a teaching degree so I’m not flitting between temporary placements. One part of me worries I only want it to spite him, to prove I can be serious about a career.” And then I’d be just as bad as he is.

Farren’s sigh was long and loaded, exhausted from the lack of sleep and answers. The largest of all that picked away at the scar tissue inside her: Why didn’t he love me? Why wasn’t I good enough?

“Farren, you and I both know a career isn’t what defines you. Think about what’s attracting you to teach in the first place. If it’s to impart knowledge to children and guide them through learning, then, of course, you should pursue it.” Corinne said it so kindly, her face open with hope, her eyes sparkling with alcohol and excitement.

Somehow that option didn’t feel like it. Not quite. Not far off, but not a proper fit.

“I think it’s more about feeling helpful, about being a support system for schools and kids. I swoop in and prove myself useful, and then I get to extricate myself before it becomes too hard.” The words twisted inside her, the echo of Sebastian being too scared to be all in. They may have been different in big ways, but they were very much the same when it came down to it.

“But is that what you want or where you’re comfortable?” Corinne asked and ordered another round for them.

Huh.

She had no ready response. No immediate words came to her lips even though she parted them slightly to answer.

“I’m not quite sure. It’s hard to pin down. I just know I want to bring people joy and make a difference in the process.” It was all she’d ever wanted. It was part of why she’d tried to design a board game in the first place. Games had given her a safe space to be herself despite life’s turns. Games brought enjoyment and escape.

“So then take time to figure that out,” Corinne said as if it closed the discussion. Problem solved. Next.

The bartender deposited two more glasses in front of her friend.

“I’m surprised you’re not grilling me on Sebastian more…” Surprised and relieved, the wound was still very much open.

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