The memories keep coming.
The ride to the city, playing stupid car games and laughing until my sides hurt and Neil trying to convince me that the Jets would win the Superbowl. When he took me to Little Italy in July and got down on one knee and proposed in the middle of the street. The tears become too much. I can’t see the road, so I pull over. In the confines of my car I lose it. I cry and sob for everything I saw and will never forget. I call Ashton hoping she can calm me.
“Hey, Biffle,” Ash answers.
At the sound of her voice, any emotion I was holding back breaks free. A choked sound rips from my chest and the tears come faster.
“Catherine? What’s wrong?” Her voice changes from singsong to concerned.
“Neil … He cheated on me! I saw it! I … I.”
“What do you mean?”
“I w-went there and he was f-fucking her on the c-couch. I-I can’t-t bre-athe,” I stutter as the phone shakes against my wet cheek and ear.
“Okay, calm down. Where are you?” she asks.
“I d-don’t know! I couldn’t s-stand there and w-watch it,” I cry, weeping on the side of some unknown road.
Ashton takes a deep breath before speaking. “I’m coming to get you. Where are you?”
“Why?” I croak, letting the pain take over.
“Catherine,” she says, authority ringing through the phone. “Listen to me. Can you drive?”
“I g-gotta go,” I say and hang up, right before I throw the phone against the dash.
I can’t talk anymore. I can’t even think. My head is a mess. I want to forget and stop seeing that moment of betrayal on replay.
I grip my hair, screaming in frustration as I try to form coherent thoughts through my agony.
Why? Why after all this time? Why?
Seconds, minutes, hours are lost to me. As the tears begin to ebb, even though the pain doesn’t, I pull myself together enough to drive.
After driving around in circles for hours, my phone has over thirty missed calls and voicemails. I have no idea who they’re from and I don’t care. There are no words of comfort anyone can give me. My life, my future, my everything— … is gone.
Somehow I find my way back to my apartment where Neil is waiting for me in the hall outside. Seeing him brings me up short. The last few hours come right back, slamming into me with the force of a thousand bricks, piling around me and threatening to bury me under their weight.
He stands there, staring at me. “Hey.”
“How long have you been here?” My voice is quiet, but there’s no mistaking the undertone of disgust.
“A while. Ashton wouldn’t let me inside.”
My eyes close of their own accord as I try to find any ounce of strength I have left to handle this. The nausea hits me full force and I hunch over, trying to keep the bile down. Looking at him, being around him again, makes me physically sick. He’s destroyed every good memory we’ve ever had. Five years of love is gone. I want to crawl into a hole and never come out. The pain of the last few hours has left me empty.
“Catherine, please.” Neil comes forward and places his hand on my back.
I snap back up, throwing his arm off me. “Do not touch me!”
“I didn’t want you to find out this way.” Neil runs his hands through his sandy blond hair as he huffs.
“Really? How would you have preferred? After the wedding maybe? Or maybe at Christmas?” I glare as moisture returns to my eyes, threatening to spill over.
The tension rolling off of him shifts and he snaps, “I wanted to talk to you weeks ago, but I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want this.” He gestures between us, apparently indicating the “this.” Gone is the apologetic man from a few moments ago. His eyes are cold and devoid of the love that once shined brightly in them.
“You think I did?” I scream in his face. “I don’t deserve this!”
“I need more,” he bites out, completely uncaring that he’s ripping my heart out—again.
“More? What more do you need? I can’t believe this. You cheated on me!”
He steps back, averting his hard stare at the elevator. “It’s been over for a while. I think we both knew this was coming.”
My eyes widen in shock and disbelief. “You’re kidding me, right? Because I didn’t know anything. We were getting married, Neil. How is that knowing this was coming? How many months of planning and building a life together shows me you were done?”
“I’ve been unhappy for months.” He sighs, running his hands through his hair. “I didn’t know what to do.”
“I’ll tell you what you could’ve done. You could have told me! You could have not slept with my friend!” I shout, but my words don’t even penetrate. He stands there, completely apathetic. “So that’s it? You’re going to walk away after five years?”
“Why fight what we both know isn’t going to work?”
I step back, shaken by his words. And then it sinks in: he’s not here to make it right; he came here to end it. To further damage my beaten heart—the heart he bruised and battered with his infidelity.
“This is why you’re here? To tell me this. Now?” I ask with fear choking me.
His voice is empty as the words tumble out of his mouth. “What we have just isn’t enough, Catherine. It’s better this way.”
Without another word he turns and walks away, ending the last five years of what I thought was the beginning of our life together. The elevator door closes and my heart shatters into a million pieces. Broken. This can’t be happening. We were getting married. We were going to have children, a life, a future! No!
I gasp for air, trying to fill my suffocating lungs. Ashton opens the door and pulls me inside while I lose everything I ever thought mattered.
“Shhh, it’s okay.” She holds me close to her chest. “It’s going to be okay,” she murmurs quietly in my ear.
There is nothing to hold me together as I crumble to the ground in complete devastation.
Not enough.
All over again.
Chapter Two
~Three months later~
“Ever wonder what makes these people think they’re going to find love on these stupid reality shows?” Ashton asks as she plops on the couch next to me.
We’re watching another episode of this show where random women try to find their one true love through a series of dates with multiple people.
“No. But maybe we should sign up since the traditional route isn’t working so much.” I laugh, shoveling another spoonful of ice cream into my mouth.
It’s a three-day weekend and we’ve been lazy, drinking wine and watching trashy television and movies. After spending the first month post-breakup wallowing, Ashton put her foot down and forced me to function outside of work. I believed my life was just beginning and there was a happily ever after in sight, but I should’ve known better. This is real life: there is no prince charming, and I’m definitely not a princess. No more illusions of fairy-tale endings. He’s gone, and I’m alone.
“Could you imagine? All these girls are hot too. They’re dumb, but at least they’re pretty. Your company should represent them.”
“I don’t represent celebrities, Ash. You know that. I like being a publicist in the business world. Way less drama dealing with companies versus people.” She tries to snatch the ice cream but I move it out of her grasp. “Can we change the channel? Let’s watch something about blowing people up, or shooting people! I have no desire to watch people fall in love. I’d rather pretend everyone’s miserable like me,” I say, grabbing for the remote as my phone vibrates with a text.