Page 20 of All Tied Up
The fact that I’d drunk an entire bottle of wine last night, then texted Ransom was my breaking point. When I opened my eyes this morning, I checked my phone. Of course, I had gotten no response. It was humiliating in the light of day. Sober me was never going to drink again. My patheticI miss youtext was taunting me. If only I could erase it. Like the others I’d sent, my drunken one had also been left unread. I guessed I should be thankful for that. I didn’t want him to see it. But … had he blocked me? Was he not seeing the texts from me at all? Would he do that?
The ache in my chest sank to my stomach and caused it to knot up painfully. I hated this feeling. I did miss him. At least ten times a day, I’d think of something I wanted to tell him, but when I reached for my phone, I’d remember he wasn’t talking tome.
I had been ghosted.
I’d become one of those.
The females that Ransom fucked, then ditched.
And as mind-blowing and earth-shattering as sex had been with him, I’d go back and change it if it meant I’d get to keep him in my life. I could live without the sex. I didn’t want to live without Ransom. Even if it was just texting. He was a necessity in my life.
But I’d been weak. I thought that I was different. I was foolish enough to believe Ransom Carver needed me in his life too. How freaking naive I’d been. He didn’t need any one female. All it would take for him to replace me was one snap of his fingers, and they’d come running. He probably had my replacement already. Someone who was thrilled to receive his texts. Did he send her random facts about whiskey? Did she respond with pointless facts she’d researched that day? Highly doubtful. Didn’t he miss our little quirky back-and-forths? Was I truly that forgettable?
If I hadn’t already been in a dark place, I had just gotten myself in a deep, endless pit now.
Sighing, I grabbed my purse, determined to find some peace today. Or just a break from the pain. Anything to distract me. Ease up the constant sorrow that his absence caused.
Maybe then I could talk to Jellie. She was going to show up at my door soon if I didn’t. I’d avoided her because she knew me too well. If she heard my voice, she’d know I wasn’t okay. Then she’d want details, and she wouldn’t give up until I spilled everything.
Some things were just too painfully humiliating to share. Even with her.
How I was going to do Christmas at the Wattses’ this year, I didn’t know. I’d passed the point of pretending I was okay. They’d all see it—and not just because I’d lost even more weightfrom my lack of appetite. My eyes even looked empty when I stared at myself in the mirror. This year, I might have to be sick for Christmas. Perhaps tell them that I had tested positive for COVID and hide away, wrapped in my misery, here in this apartment.
The smell of the city wasn’t always pleasant, but the bakery two doors down filled the air with the scent of holiday cheer. I took a moment to enjoy it before turning in the opposite direction and heading toward the bookstore I frequented. This had once been an every Sunday outing for me. But my Sundays had become workdays, as did every day as of late. Orsit and stare at the screendays was more like it.
“Noa!”
I paused and turned around at the sound of my name before I registered whose voice it was.
Thurston was walking in my direction with a to-go cup of coffee in one hand and a smile on his face. I hadn’t wanted to see anyone I’d have to actually converse with. In a city with over one-point-six million people, crammed into twenty-two-point-sixty-six square miles, it didn’t happen often.
Lucky me.
It took great effort not to roll my eyes as he approached me. I was in a bad mood. The worst of my life, but it wasn’t his fault. He’d done nothing wrong.
“Good morning.” I managed a smile.
“Yeah, it is now,” he replied, and then his brows drew together. “I wasn’t sure if I’d see you again. The unanswered texts and refusal to answer my calls made it clear you were pissed at me. I wanted to apologize for that. The thing in your apartment … Ishouldn’t have shown up unannounced. I’m sorry.”
I didn’t want a reminder of that day. Ransom came with the memory. Other than Ransom being rude to Thurston and ordering me around, I’d been happy then. Living in a brief bubble of joy that had burst all too soon.
Wait … what texts and calls? He hadn’t contacted me. The tiniest shred of hope started to spark inside my chest.
“I, uh, didn’t get any texts or calls from you,” I said.
Was something wrong with my phone? Had Ransom been trying to text me or call me? Was that it?!
But Jellie’s calls and texts had come through. So had my editor’s. Maybe it was just certain numbers. Or possibly bad service. I was grasping here, and I knew it.
“I called at least three times and texted more. Jellie said to just give you some time. You were busy with work and not talking to her much either.”
I pulled out my phone to double-check. It was stupid, but if there was the slightest chance that Ransom had been having the same problem, I needed to know. He could think I was the one ghosting him. Well, except for the four texts I had sent that he hadn’t read.
I found Ransom’s name first and checked to see my texts still sitting there, ignored. The little bubble was slowly deflating. I went to search Thurston’s name, but it wasn’t in my Contacts. Nor were there any texts from unnamed numbers.
“I’ve not gotten anything from you,” I told him as I turned my screen off and slid my phone back into my pocket.
He opened his phone, then handed it to me. “I sent them,” he said. I looked down at the texts to my name and number. “I can show you the calls too. If you’d like.”
