Page 65 of In For a Penny
“Henry? How long?” I ask again, more forcefully this time.
“Penny, I…” He sighs, and I wait. “I’m pretty sure they had gone out a couple of times before you left for London. And I think Lauren mentioned he broke up with her for a while in September and then they started up again last month.”
Another punch to the gut. Another shot of adrenaline coursing through my body.
SERIOUSLY?
This means that he had already started dating her before our last date. This means that when he laughed off my request not to date any of my friends and said he would never do that, he was lying. This means that while I was conflicted about moving on, he was enjoying life, leading me on, playing house with Claire.
Unacceptable.
My rage has now been redirected to the correct person.
And it’s not Austin. Or Claire.
It’s me.
Because how fucking stupid do I have to be to fall for his shitAGAIN?
I thought I had accepted the possibility that he had been lying to me this entire time about it being a temporary breakup, about us not entering an emotional relationship. But here he is, with someone else,in a relationship, and I am still surprised.
Jesus Christ, what an idiot.
“Henry, thank you,” I say sincerely, calmly. I refuse to let this affect me any longer. I can finally let go of him—for real this time.
“Uh…” He sounds nervous, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for me to yell at him some more. “F-for what?”
“For telling me the truth. Someone had to. I’m glad I wasn’t going crazy. I had a feeling something was off.”
I think back to all the cyber-stalking I occasionally performed in the last couple of months. I knew things were off. I knew things were off before I even left New York.
There is silence on the other end of the phone and then a deep breath. “If it helps, she’s more into him than he’s into her. It’s pretty obvious to anyone with two eyes,” he says.
I laugh bitterly once. “I’m sure. But not for the reasons you think. I hope that ends well.” And I mean it sincerely. I hope he doesn’t play her, too. Not because I give a shit about her anymore, because I don’t, but because I don’t want him to have the satisfaction of getting away with it again. “Thanks, Henry. I have to go now. It’s late.”
I don’t wait for his goodbye before hanging up.
Claire and Austin. Wow.
“Penny?” I turn to look at Oliver, completely forgotten in my apartment. “Are you alright?”
“No.” I push him out of the way and walk back into my bedroom.
Ugh. All theI love yousthat night at dinner. The hand holding.
The fucking dancing.
I think I genuinely hate myself right now.
I open my bedside drawer and pull out the letter he wrote me before I left New York, along with the emergency pack of cigarettes and lighter I hid in the back when I quit smoking weeks ago. I had a feeling I might need these one day.
“You should go home, Oliver,” I say, not looking at him. I open the window above my bed and sit on the headrest of my bedframe.
“But…it’s past two,” he says, confused.
“I’ll pay for your Uber if you’d like,” I say, but my sentence is muffled by the cigarette I’m holding in between my lips as I try to light it. I take in a deep drag.
God, that feels good.
