Page 47 of Hate You Later
One of the perks of being only five foot two and living in an older home is that I can practically swim in my oversize bathtub. This is something I indulge in on a regular basis. Scented candles and bath bombs are my love language. And after a childhood of deprivation, there will always be a small part of me that can’t believe I have a whole bathroom and bathtub to myself.
For now …
I cannot think about this at the moment.
My Alexa speaker is on the nightstand just outside the bathroom door.
“Alexa, play my music!” I order from the tub. A moment later, though, displeased and impatient with her inappropriately perky selections for me, I change my mind.
“Alexa, call Kenna!”
Kenna’s phone rings and rings, until it goes through to her voice mail. I vaguely recall she said something about a date tonight. I just hope it’s not one of the Uber Eats guys, or worse, one of the dick pics ones. But I can’t blame her for trying. Her eternal optimism and unflagging belief in happy endings are two of her most endearing traits. Two that I wish we shared.
How long has it been since anyone touched me?
The thought of Bryce’s hand sliding down my shoulder still makes me shudder.
Next question.
Who was the last man I touched? Not counting my brother and Uncle Nick from the diner?
It was Hudson Holm, of course. Full-body slam.
And now he’s back in my head. We’re going there—again. I replay the sensations of crashing into him and find myself enjoying it a little too much. If I’m being honest, I enjoy it even more than the memory of punching his brother.
Honestly, how can those two even be brothers?
Rolling onto my stomach, I stretch out my limbs and attempt to practice gratitude. I’m grateful for this bathtub and my entire house. The roof over my head tonight. Even if it doesn’t last. I’m grateful to have my brother and my best friend in my life. I take none of it for granted.
But I’m still so lonely, I say to myself, hugging myself under water. Acknowledging the feeling, it feels like probing a bruise. A bruise that refuses to go away. It lingers in the places where comfort used to live.
People say they will be with you always. And then they leave.
I hear Oliver’s voice in my head.“All the more reason to hold tight to the people who matter most, Cookie.”
That’s weird. But no weirder than the fact that I’m also really grateful for Oliver. A coffee witch, a man impersonating a Persian cat, and a dog groomer. These are my people.
Flipping onto my back, I duck my hair under the water and turn on the tap with my toes. Hot water swirls around me, almost but not quite as good as an embrace. I sit up to swig another gulp of my wine.
“Alexa, call Xander!” I demand.
He picks up on the first ring.
“Hey, G! Everything okay? I’m at a restaurant on Front Street, so it’s a little loud here.”
I can hear music in the background and people laughing.
“Um … yeah. No big deal. It can wait. Just wondering how your trip is going.” I sink back down into the water. “How was the dog show?”
“Can we catch up tomorrow at the planning meeting? We’ll be back by noon. Oh, and I have news about a venue for the masquerade. I think we might have the perfect space lined up.”
“Okay!” I dunk my head under the water again. First good news of the day. When I come up, Xander is speaking low and rapidly. I can picture Mac beckoning him back to the table. I feel the stab of my loneliness jabbing me in the ribs again. I miss half of what he’s saying.
“And there’s plenty of space for everything we want to do. It’s fire! We’ll talk more when I’m home. See you tomorrow?”
“Sure, okay, Xan. Catch you then. Get back to Mac. And be good,” I say, careful to keep my tone as neutral and as upbeat as I can muster. I don’t need to drag Xander down with me. I’m happy for him and Mac. Truly. As he would be for me. If I was into relationships.
We hang up and I let myself drift in the cooling tub, determined to empty my mind of all troubling thoughts for the remainder of the night. Cookie wanders into the bathroom and attempts to drink bathwater.
