Page 66 of The Jerk in Apartment 1B

“But you used to want that. You wanted the wife, the kids, the house. You can’t tell me you went from that to wanting to live the rest of your life alone.”

“You really think I want that again?” I say, raising my voice. “After having it and losing it?” I slam my hand on the counter, my eyes locked on Cole. “You have no idea what that’s like. And until you do, you don’t get to tell me to get over it or move on.”

He nods, then looks down.

“And don’t you dare tell Trina about her. You understand?”

“Yeah. Got it.”

I storm out of his apartment, my heart pounding, my muscles tense. I’ve been doing really well, going days without thinking about her. And then Cole mentions her and all those memories come rushing back.

He doesn’t know what it’s like. He has no idea how it feels to have your heart destroyed after a single moment in time. To have all the plans for your life disappear in an instant. That isn’t something you just move past. It doesn’t work that way.

Cole’s crazy if he thinks I’d put myself through that again. Why would I plan my life with someone, knowing it could be taken away? It’s better to be alone and spend my time helping others have the life they want.

Do I want to remember Megan? Of course I do, but it’s too painful. That’s why I sold the house. Sold the company. Left California. Threw out her things. I wanted to wipe that part of my life from my memories.

But it didn’t work. The memories are still there. The best I can do is try not to think about them.

Cole says I should move on. Find someone else. He doesn’t get it. There is no one else.

There was one person for me. And she’s gone.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Trina

It’s been a week since Asher broke up with me, but it seems more like a month, probably because so much has happened. I’m in a new neighborhood and a new apartment. I have two new jobs. It’s a lot of change all at once, but I’m doing it. I’m actually kind of proud of myself. It feels good to know I don’t need Asher to take care of me. I relied on him for so long that I’d forgotten that.

I haven’t heard from Asher since that day we met at the coffee shop. I didn’t expect him to call me, but I thought he might text me to see how things are going. I did get a text from him Monday night, asking where to send my mail. I sent him my address, but never got any mail, which made me think he might stop by. But it’s Friday, and he hasn’t shown up.

There’s a knock on the door. “Delivery for Trina Thorpe,” a guy says.

Delivery?I’m not expecting a delivery. Did Asher send me something?

I race to the door and open it. “I’m Trina.”

The guy shoves a tablet at me. “Sign here.”

“What am I signing for?”

“That you got the mattress.”

I look out in the hall and see a twin mattress leaned against the wall. “That’s for me?”

“If you’re Trina, then yeah. Where do you want it?”

“Um, hold on.” I sign the tablet and hand it back to the guy. “You can just put it over there.” I point to the side of the room, opposite the kitchen area.

“You got it.” He drags the plastic covered mattress into my apartment and drops it on the floor. “You want me to take the plastic off?”

“Yeah, if you could.”

He rips it off, balls it up, and stuffs it under his arm. “Enjoy your new mattress.”

“Thanks,” I say as he leaves.

Asher got me a mattress! That’s so sweet. I’m surprised he didn’t tell me. He usually wants credit when he does something nice.

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