Page 36 of Vitamin Sea
Abashed, the woman quickly peeled her eyes off of the decoupling couple while Chloe turned her attention, but not her memory, back to her, apparent, former boyfriend.
It took her a second to realize a few moments later that he had stopped talking and a sudden rage swept over her.
“Are you fucking Sophia?” she asked, her eyes trained on Liam as she picked up her napkin and dabbed at the tear streaks on her face.
“What? No.” Liam looked stunned.
He was denying it, but there was something in Liam’s eyes that she didn’t quite trust.
And she thought she knew why. Those late nights he had spent slaving away at the office? Sophia had been right there beside him. Liam had told her as much. It occurred to her then that Dasha, her boss, had been right.
“I just think we’ve grown apart,” Liam said lightly, not meeting her eyes.
Chloe was astonished.Grown apart?she thought angrily. How the fuck do you grow apart when you live together? She realized she already knew the answer. You grow apart when a certain blonde investment banker starts working overtime hours with your boyfriend.
“Grown apart!?” she blurted out angrily. “Grown apart? Liam, pardon my language, but how the fuck do you think we grew apart when you’ve been spending every waking hour at work without me?”
She reached for her wine. From the look on Liam’s face, he was gearing up to respond but Chloe was having none of it. She raised her finger and wagged it at him as she drank from her glass.
“No,” she said determinedly. “You don’t get to respond. You don’t get to sit there and brush it off or try and justify breaking up with me on the grounds of ‘growing apart’.” She raised one hand in air quotations. “When you’re the one who has been absent for the past six months.”
Liam said nothing. She had told him he didn’t get to respond, and it seemed he was taking it to heart.
But toss it. She did want him to respond. She just didn’t want to hear what she knew he was going to say. She wanted him to respond by telling her that it was just an awful joke. That he wasn’t actually breaking up with her. She didn’t want him to respond by telling her he was sorry.
“Say something!” she said angrily.
“I’m sorry, Chloe,” Liam said softly. “I really am.”
Big fat tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.
Chloe. He called her Chloe. He hadn’t called her that since the first month they had started dating. She was always Chlo. His Chlo. His honey, his baby, his babe. Now she was Chloe.
It was odd, but his use of her first name was what really drove it home for her. Hearing that Liam didn’t want to be with her anymore hurt, yes. But there was something about the use of her first name that made it seem so final. As if things could have gone back to normal, like they had been six months ago, if he had only called her Chlo.
The crème brûlée, her favourite dessert, which Liam had insisted on ordering, sat cold in front of her.
Fuck thecrème brûlée.She stared at it miserably as if it was the source of her discontent.Had he actually thought that ordering her a dessert would somehow soften the blow?
Liam opened his mouth, but Chloe had had enough. Sitting in the restaurant was starting to feel suffocating.
Without a word to her former boyfriend, she pushed back her chair, grabbed her purse, stood up, and headed for the exit while trying to avoid everyone’s stares.
It wasn’t that she and Liam’s breakup had been loud and dramatic. No, that wasn’t it. Despite the fact that it was a small restaurant, Chloe was confident that the only other people who were aware of her relationship demise were the nosy woman who had been sitting next to them and their waiter.
And while their conversation hadn’t drawn attention, Chloe’s post-breakup appearance had. Not knowing that her boyfriend was going to torpedo their five-year relationship that evening, she had put on regular mascara and eyeliner, not the waterproof kind. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her—a vision in red lace and Halloween makeup.Oh god,she thought to herself; she would never be able to come back here.
“Are you okay, miss?” A hesitant voice broke through her musings.
She looked to her left. A busboy, bless his heart, was concerned about the deranged-looking woman in high heels and a cocktail dress. Given the way she looked, he probably didn’t know whether to offer her help or holy water.
“I am not,” she said kindly. “But thank you for asking.”
She grabbed her phone out of her purse and pulled up her Uber app. No way was she taking the subway looking like this. Murphy’s Law dictated that this would be the time she would run into someone she knew. Then word would be all over the street that she and Liam were over and that Chloe had come apart faster than a Shein sweater.
Devastation washed over her, but it was interrupted by a sudden thought.
What the fuck was she going to do about their living situation?
