Page 6 of Leah

I continued to watch him tear apart my apartment, searching for his stuff, only he barely left his things behind except for the crap he brought for Game Night, which was actually a lot of fun.

When he was finally done, he came to me, carrying a box of his games, and stopped uncomfortably close.

“We could have had something, Leah,” he said, despairingly. “It could have been amazing had you not fucked up your past.”

“Technically, we could never have had something,” I replied, flatly. “The past sort of can’t be changed, Brett.”

He sneered. “Maybe. Next time you want to be with someone,be sure you're over the man before him. Have a good life.”

Too gobsmacked for words, I replied, “You too.”

He stomped out of there after that, slamming the door behind him.

For a long moment, there was that thick silence in the air. Mel and I just stared at each other, unsure of what to say, trying to digest the lunacy of the situation.

“Leave it to you to find the fucking crazies, babe,” Mel snickered, dispelling the silence.

“It’s that goddamn dating website. I don’t know why I keep falling for it.” I made my way around and collapsed on the couch next to her, idly watching the television as I spoke. “They always seem so promising.”

“Stop going for the looks.”

I nodded, agreeing. “You’re right. Maybe I’m just shallow and my knight in shining armour is some six-hundred-pound janitor at a maximum-security prison.”

“Well, look, if you hit the clubs again, you can find some really good opportunities.”

“No,” I disagreed. “Those are usually one-night stands, and I can’t stand to bethatemotionally detached.”

“Better than a guy asking you to pull his hair during sex when he doesn’t even have one single fucking hair on his head.”

“He’s got a soft patch on the back of his head.”

“Leah.”

“I think he was referring to that.”

“Well,Ithink we should go out tomorrow and find someone.”

I sighed and shook my head. “Nah, can’t do tomorrow.”

“Why the hell not? It’s a Saturday. It’s bad enough we haven’t gone out on a Friday night after a week from hell.”

I looked at her and raised a brow. “It’s that time of the month, Mel.”

She paused and looked back at me. “Oh,” she said, slumping her shoulders. “Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t she moving too?”

“Yeah.”

“When will you be back?”

“Not until late at night. I’ve got spin class, and I’ll be fucked by the time I’m back. Go out without me and have fun.”

She looked disappointed, but she nodded anyway. I grabbed my book off the coffee table and started reading just as she flipped through the channels. We were couch potatoes. Five years of being broke had forced us to depend on the god that was the television to dull the boredom.

We were financially better lately than we’d ever been before. She was no longer a waitress, but a bartender working at a high-end bar closer to the city. The drive was a bit brutal for her, but she said the tips made it worth it. I was a low-level accountant, but my pay had done wonders compared to before. With more money to play with, we commuted a lot into the city for retail therapy. Being out of the condo meant distancing ourselves from the old stir-crazy days in front of the television. We were still in Abbotsford, in a nice, quiet condominium that had all the modern conveniences, and we were comfortable.

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