“What’s going on?” Mila asks before she’s through the front door.
Axel stands back to make room for Devon who, like him, is a big, burly hockey player.
“Shit,” Devon mutters when he takes in my tearstained cheeks and the backdrop of my empty living room.
“He took your TV?” Mila gasps, staring at the wall mount.
I nod, miserable. “When Axel tried to drop me off this morning—”
“This morning?” Mila questions, her eyes narrowing.
“There was a muffin incident,” Axel says in a gruff voice.
Mila narrows her eyes at him, and Devon cocks his head, confused.
“Josh’s truck was in the driveway, and I didn’t, I couldn’t…” I search for words to explain my avoidance. Damn me and my dumb fear of confrontation. If I’d waltzed in, would I have discovered Josh pulling the TV off the wall?
“We decided to get a late breakfast instead,” Axel fills in.
“Uh-huh,” Devon says, shooting Axel a questioning look that Axel ignores. Hm, does Devon think there’s something between Axel and me? Could there be something between us?
“And when you came back now, everything was gone?” Mila asks, sticking to the important part of the conversation.
“Yeah,” Axel confirms.
“That snake!” Mila paces in front of the kitchen island, glaring at my empty living room. “I can’t believe, well, no, I can believe that he would do something like this because he’s just so, so—”
“Pathetic,” I offer.
Mila growls.
“Where would he go?” Devon asks.
I drift around my living room, running my hands across the freshly painted walls I paid for just last month after Josh complained the taupe color was too depressing. Now, they’re eggshell white and bare because along with the television, Josh took my framed vintage Champagne posters.
“Steve’s,” Mila and I say in unison, mentioning Josh’s best friend.
“Unless…” I whisper, the thought too embarrassing to continue aloud. I try to swallow it back, but three heads swing in my direction.
“Unless what?” Mila’s tone is gentle.
“Unless he met someone,” I admit the secret kernel of unproven truth I carry around in my chest. Deep down, given Josh’s behavior the last few months, given how depressingly long it’s been since we’ve had sex, given all the late nights and sudden obsession with his cell phone, I’m pretty sure he met someone else. A skinnier, blonder, bouncier version of me.
At my confession, Axel’s eyes blaze, the ire in their depths so strong, I stand up straighter. I like that he’s angry on my behalf. I like that he cares enough to be angry at all.
“Stupid fucker,” Devon murmurs, pissed off. “You think he’s at some bitch’s place?”
“We don’t have to call her unkind names,” I say softly, sticking up for this hypothetical woman I created. “She doesn’t owe me anything. If Josh cheated, he’s the one in the wrong.”
“Right,” Mila agrees. “Plus, we don’t know if she exists, or if Josh is guilty of cheating.”
Devon and Axel exchange a look that confirms my hunch. As far as they’re concerned, Josh is a cheater.
Axel sighs. “Where’s St—”
Mila shakes her head, cutting him off. She wraps an arm around my waist and directs me to the kitchen island, where my full glass of water sits. “Don’t you guys have a thing?” she asks, cryptically.
Axel frowns but Devon lifts his chin. Too deep into my feels to try to sort out their weird communication, I slide onto the barstool.
“Yep,” Devon says, moving toward the door. “Keep your head up, Maisy.”
I lift a hand in farewell.
Axel glances at me over his shoulder, his eyes burning, filled with so much anger, and regret, and a promise I don’t know how to read. “I’ll call you, Maisy.”
I’m about to remind him he doesn’t have my number, but the door closes and I lean back into the barstool, too tired to worry about semantics. What a day this has been. Right now, I don’t feel strong or confident.
Brittle and weak, tired and hurting, are more accurate to describe the dull ache in my head and the heaviness tugging on my heart.
Mila sends a text before placing her phone facedown on the countertop. “You okay?”
My phone chirps and I close my eyes when I read the message.
Mom: How was your first day? I hope you made the right decision leaving the law firm, Maisy.
I snort and shrug. “Tomorrow will be better, right?”
Mila squeezes my hand. “Tomorrow will be so much better. I promise.”
I give my best friend a smile and try to believe her.
An hour passes. An hour where I speed track my way through the grieving process. I’m nearly reaching the acceptance stage when Mila’s phone buzzes with a call. She takes it, turning away from the kitchen and entering the hallway near my bedroom.
Sighing, I slip off the barstool and wander into the living room. After swearing Josh out in anger, followed by a small slip into bargaining for his forgiveness, I spent the last ten minutes in a pity party of depression.
Please, someone, shake me out of this.
I stand at the edge of my living room and cross my arms over my chest.
The space appears larger now that it’s bare. Furniture-less. Josh even swiped the rug. The lamp that once sat on a small table in my grandfather’s study.
And, tears well in my eyes, my goldfish Lux.
“Who does that? Who steals a fucking goldfish?” I whirl around, meeting Mila’s surprised expression as she steps into the living room, her phone in her pocket.
“A dick,” she answers.
“A jerk,” I try for an insult.
“A pathetic excuse for a man.”
“Right!” I punch the air but in the next moment, my tears spill over and I crumple to the floor because—I don’t have a couch to crumple on!
My best friend sinks down next to me. “I’m sorry, Mais. I know Josh sucks and sure, he has a lazy streak that’s miles, thousands of miles, long, but I never thought he’d steal your furniture.”
“Or my goldfish,” I sniffle.
“Or Lux,” Mila agrees, looking around the empty space. “You know, it looks bigger.”
“It does,” I manage, a fresh wave of tears welling in my eyes.
“I like your dress,” my friend says.
“That was the worst subject change I’ve ever heard. Ever hear of subtlety?”
She smirks. “Is it new?”
I laugh, running a hand over my face and shift closer to Mila. “I had a really bad day with really great moments.”
Mila arches an eyebrow. “Does Axel Daire have anything to do with these great moments?”
I nod. “For appearing so rough and gruff, he really is a considerate man.” I fill Mila in on the muffin debacle, followed by Axel’s kindness, followed by my new dress and late breakfast.
“Wow,” she says when I’m finished. “I didn’t expect all that.”
“Right? It was so nice, just for today, to feel like a man, who isn’t my dad, really sees me.” I pause, my eyelids growing heavy. My emotions have gone through the wringer today and I’m suddenly exhausted. Too drained to filter my thoughts. “I’m almost certain Josh was cheating on me,” I voice the concern I know to be true in my heart. After months of his suspect behavior, followed by today, I’m sure my theory will be confirmed shortly. “And working for Tim…what a nightmare.” I lean back, bracing my arms against the floor to support my weight. “But with Axel…”
“What?”
“It was nice, that’s all. He was like a glimmer of hope on doomsday.”
“I’m glad he was there for you today. You deserve to be with a good man, Maisy.”
“A man like Axel?” I ask, half joking, half not.
Mila nods, her expression serious. “A man like Axel,” she confirms my wish.
I yawn and Mila hugs me closer, tipping her head against mine. “You tired, Mais?”
“Exhausted.”
“Why don’t you get some sleep?”
“What time will the guys be back with dinner?” I ask. Or did they have to watch game tape or something? Devon and Axel took off right after Mila arrived and I didn’t think to ask where they were going.
“Are you hungry?” Mila frowns.
“Not at all,” I admit.
She squeezes my shoulder. “Go to sleep. I’ll spend the night here and anything you need, just shout for me.”
“Thanks,” I agree so easily, I catch Mila off guard.
I hate asking for help, hate admitting defeat. But right now, my ego is bruised, my heart is wounded, and my soul—the very essence of my being—feels trampled on.
I know tomorrow will be better, brighter. Tomorrow, I’ll start my new job after manifesting from the top all over again.
But right now, I want cozy sweats and my pillow. I push off the floor and make my way toward my bedroom.
Mila has stayed at my house countless times. She’ll make herself comfortable in the guest bedroom or, given the events of the day, crawl into bed beside me. I don’t need to get her a pillow or remind her where the towels are.
The fact that she’s barely a guest at all is comforting. Mila is my best friend and I feel better, stronger, with her spending the night. It’s a relief to know I’m not alone. I slide out of the beautiful dress Axel bought me and place it carefully on a hanger.
Today sucked but there were moments…moments I need to hold on to and be grateful for.
I repeat this to myself, over and over, as I change into pajamas, brush my teeth, wash my face, and climb into bed. Staring at my crisp white ceiling, I force myself to recall all the blessings in my life until sleep claims me, tonight, the biggest blessing of all.
When I wake in the morning, the air feels different. There’s an energy, a newness that didn’t exist when I cried myself to sleep the night before. From my bedroom, I hear the whirr of my coffee machine so Mila’s already up. Stuffing my feet into slippers, I wade into the kitchen and stop short.
“What’s this?” I gasp, my eyes widening as I take in my new living room.
My couch is back, along with the TV, Grandpa’s lamp, and—“Lux!” I exclaim, rushing to stare at my goldfish who couldn’t care less about me.
Mila grins, passing me a coffee mug. “The guys tracked down Josh and reclaimed your stuff.”
“Was he at Steve’s?”
She nods, her eyes wide. “Josh hid from them in the bathroom.”
I laugh with a deranged type of delight. “Coward.”
“Totally!”
A new thought wriggles through my mind and I pause. “Was there another woman?”
Mila shakes her head, shrugging. “Not that I know of.”
I narrow my gaze, but Mila’s expression is just as uncertain as mine. She doesn’t know.
I shake my head in disbelief. “I can’t believe they did this for me. Wait, this is new.” I point to an ivory pouf with big, black polka dots next to the couch. “And this!” I toe the rug with a very cool geometric pattern. “I didn’t have a rug this big before.”
Mila grins. “We thought we’d make a few improvements. Help make the space your own.” Now that Josh is gone. She doesn’t voice the words, but I hear them anyway.
I step into the living room, running my hand over the back of the couch, picking at the fringe of a new throw pillow. Laughter bubbles up from my throat. “I see you did some Feng Shui while you were at it.”
“Lola even had Axel burn sage.”
“What?” I shriek, spinning toward Mila.
She snorts. “I almost wish you were awake to hear how that play by play went down over speakerphone, but he really wanted to surprise you. We all did.”
“I’m…surprised. And so damn thankful. Thank you. Thank all of y’all.” I give Mila a big hug.
She pats my back. “It was mostly Axel.”
“I can’t believe it.” I turn back toward the space, taking in my new living room. The small accents, the details, are all me and I devour them greedily, loving that this space finally feels like mine again after having Josh’s boring ass occupy it for the better part of the last year.
“I can,” Mila says quietly. “Axel’s…protective of you.”
“He’s a good man,” I say, giving a non-answer. Is he protective of me? Does Lola know about me because her friend, the server, filled her in? Or because there’s something real to know?
Am I reading into things because yesterday was so awful and Axel comforted me? Did he do this because he feels sorry for me? Or because he cares more than he should?
And do I want him to? Can a man like Axel—successful, strong, larger than life—really look at me and see all the things most men, hell, even my own mother, overlook?
If he does, can I trust it enough to believe him?