Page 57 of Speak of the Devil

Divorce law is not my specialty, so I’m pulling in a colleague I work with at the office. They’ll review everything before the meeting and consult if needed.

Me:

Thank you.

I dread the bill I’m about to be hit with, but Shane and I should have done this last year. He’s making it clear he’s moving on. I’ve tried, but maybe this is the one thing that will force me to do it. Anyway, this is no big deal. I knew it was coming.

“Men are the worst,”I sob, blowing my nose into the last tissue from the box.

Patting my back, Luna hugs me to her shoulder. “Let it all out.”

“Was I delusional? Why’d I let my guard down? He’s a freaking rock star!” I point at the TV as Faris Wheel takes the stage of a late-night talk show to promote their upcoming album. “What did I possibly expect? Him to fall in love with a geriatric nurse from the Valley?” I blow my nose again, too stuffed up to say anything more.

Brokenhearted.

Mad.

Full of regret.

I’m all the things all over again.

I thought I was over him. I guess avoiding the topic of Shane Faris only put off the inevitable. It didn’t help me to recover. I say, “I regret opening myself up to be hurt.” Covering my face with my hands, I sink lower into the couch, embarrassed. “I hate that I was nothing but a groupie to him in the end.” I peek over at her. There’s no judgment on Luna’s face. She’s been where I am now. “I thought college was for dating bad boys. I’m thirty-one. Shouldn’t I have outgrown that bad habit?”

“To give a little credit, you were only thirty when you met him.”

“Seventeen. I was in eleventh grade.” I toss the gross tissue to the floor with the rest of them, even more frustrated with my poor choices. My grandmother wouldn’t be proud of my behavior. “I was thirty when I decided dating someone who literally told me he doesn’t do relationships was a good idea.” Iroll to the side, wanting to hide under a pillow, but I can’t escape myself, my harshest critic.

“Now he’s getting married to someone else,” I spout, sniffling between the tears he caused last August and the ones that fall because the end is near. This part of our lives will be put to bed with a simple signature. “Why?” I ask, watching Shane on drums kick off the song.

Luna rubs my blanket-covered leg from the other side of the couch. “Why what, hon?”

“Why would I let myself fall for someone who doesn’t give a damn about . . . about . . .” I grab the remote and turn up the volume. “He’s moved on. Maybe it’s time for me to date again?” I glance at her, wanting permission, backup, anything that tells me this is how it’s supposed to be.

“Um,” she says, eyeing me and waffling her head. “Mmm . . . no, you’re not ready. But when you are truly open to love, you’ll find the love of your life.”

Staring at the TV, unable to take my eyes off Shane, I ask, “You think?”

“Yes. I know.” She settles in on the other side of the couch and watches with me.

“Why does he have to look so good?” Squinting my eyes, I study the inside of his left forearm. “Is that a new tattoo?”

Did he get it for her? His soon-to-be wife? Or is it to commemorate something special from his life?

Do I want to know?Probably not.

“I hate to tell you this,” she says, watching the band perform, her eyes glued to the screen when I peek up at her.

“Is this a ‘kick me when I’m down’ comment, or an ‘aren’t you glad you got out of it’ type deal?”

Her foot nudges my leg. “I’ll never kick you when you’re down.”

“You literally just kicked me,” I deadpan while smiling.

“It wasn’t a kick. It was an I love you, you will get through, but I’m also loving this song, please don’t hate me nudge.”

I raise the volume a little louder. I was already tapping to the beat because it’s catchy. “The song is really good, but is it awful of me to want to dwell in my feels a little longer?”

“Not at all. Dwell away.”

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