Chapter 807
Seeing that the group chat, which had been dead silent for months, was suddenly active again, I couldn’t help but space out, lost for a good while.
Maybe I’d been on such an emotional rollercoaster that it felt like ages had passed.
Then, Nathan replied earnestly, “Thanks. It’s been a while since we talked.”
His words left me stunned for a second. I let out a soft laugh and shut off my phone.
Jared didn’t say anything else, and the group chat fell silent once again, if only for a little while.
Not long after, my phone lit up with a message.
It was Nathan messaging me directly, saying there’d be a board get-together at the end of the year and asking if I’d be coming.
I remembered there’d just been a board vote not too long ago, and I hadn’t shown up for that. If I skipped this one too, people might start talking.
“I’ll be there. Just send me the address,” I replied to him.
Nathan shot back the address almost immediately.
I was about to just send back an “OK” when my office phone rang–turns out there was an emergency meeting I had to run to.
Grabbing my phone, I stepped out of my office. As usual, I silenced my phone during the meeting.
After the meeting finished–an hour later–I made my way toward the cafeteria, checking my messages as I walked.
Turned out Nathan had sent another message.
He asked, “So, how’s things with that Jennings guy lately? Haven’t heard anything about you two in ages.”
I stopped in my tracks, a tightness in my chest as memories came flooding back.
After a moment, I decided to be honest. “Edward and I are done.”
Nathan fired back with three question marks.
I couldn’t help teasing him. “Isn’t Jared always gossiping with you about me? How come he didn’t tell you?”
Nathan sent an angry emoji. “That guy’s got no loyalty.”
Seeing Nathan joke around about Jared, I felt some of my old happiness coming back.
“See you in two days. I better get back to work,” I said, steering the conversation to a close.
Nathan replied with a quick “OK.”
The next evening, I drove back to Hachester. This city had always felt strangely familiar to me–like no matter how many times I tried to leave, whether in this life or a past one, setting foot here again always made me feel unexpectedly at peace.
I got back to my apartment, which was cleaned every week by a housekeeper, so it was always ready for me to just drop in whenever I needed.
It had been almost half a year since I’d been on my own, and honestly, being alone was starting to feel… routine.
In the daytime, the city’s noise and energy kept loneliness at bay–it was easy to get lost in all the life around me. But once the night rolled in…
The quiet all around became suffocating.
Maybe I’d overestimated myself. I thought I could soak in all this bustling city life and still handle being alone – but maybe I was wrong.
I guess I’ve always hated loneliness. When my time comes, I’m terrified that there won’t be anyone there to hold my hand. My parents left this world before I did, and that fear of being left all alone… it still haunts me.
I glanced at the clock, wondering if Melissa was still awake. I thought about shooting her a text to see if she wanted to grab some late-night grub.
Melissa fired back almost right away, all playful: [Sorry, Miss Moneybags, I’m already curled up in Bedland. No way I’m coming out tonight!]
I sent her a smiley emoji, told her to enjoy her beauty sleep, and let her be for the night.
I opened the wine cabinet–just two bottles of red wine inside. I grabbed one, but then realized I couldn’t find the corkscrew.
So there I was, bottle in hand, flopping down on the couch, my mind a blank.
I’d done pretty well for myself, but why did I feel so empty?
Maybe it was because the love I’d had before was so overwhelming that it made the emptiness now feel even more glaring.
A bold thought popped into my head–was this some kind of sign that it was time to find a boyfriend?
Sure, some people would say, “Would you really drop dead without a man? Isn’t it better to be single and living your best life?”
But honestly, loneliness isn’t something just anyone can handle. I was no nun in the monastery, living off meditation for years. Most of us weren’t cut out for that kind of enlightened isolation.
I was still just a regular person.
So I turned on the TV and hopped in the shower. With the voices filling the room, the house didn’t feel quite so cold and lonely.
After my shower, I dried my long hair, cranked up the heat, and wrapped myself in a fluffy white bathrobe. Stretching out on the couch, I flipped through some of my accumulated financial reports, and felt myself gradually cheering up.