I took my time picking out new furniture. I spent countless hours visiting boutiques and department stores.
A part of me wanted to call Sean and ask for the designer who styled his condo, but I held back. The last thing I wanted to do was open a channel of communication between us.
I easily found pieces for my living room and dining space, but I couldn’t find anything amazing for my bedroom. I wanted something sleek and modern, something that reflected how much I loved New York City. I guessed summer was the time for traditional and contemporary, because the most “modern” piece I could find was an egg shaped bed with re-purposed pipes for bedposts.
After leaving another furniture store disappointed, I headed towards a newsstand. I’d refrained from reading my byline for weeks but I needed to know how Phil was handling it.
I handed the vendor a couple of ones and grabbed The New York Appeal. I skimmed the latest news stories and found “my” review of Hanging Free: “The latest film from Plum Studios is possibly the greatest thing this critic has seen in a long time. Chock full of stars—Adam Sandler, Vince Vaughn, Reese Witherspoon, and Maya Rudolph to name a few, this is one you don’t want to miss!
“Adam Sandler plays Jacob, a forty year old millionaire who just found out he has a flesh eating disorder. Since he’s accomplished everything he wanted in life, Jacob wants to spend his last days ruining the lives of everyone who ever wronged or “hated on” him. Some of these people include his twelfth grade math teacher (She awarded him a certificate that read “Class Idiot” at graduation), his mother (she traded him in a crack deal when he was fifteen), and his ex-college sweetheart (she dumped him for his best friend on his birthday).
“Of course, what makes this film a charmer is the fact that Jacob’s memory of events is somewhat askew, and he has to learn to see things from other people’s point of view. There’s a beautiful love story underneath the layers of recollection, and an even bigger story of forgiveness underneath this raucous comedy.
“My only problem with this film is that it lacked any supernatural or sci-fi undertones. What has Hollywood come to? Why do all films these days have to take place in the real world? You’re telling me a forty year old millionaire who is dying wouldn’t want to go to space? He wouldn’t want to die in style? He wouldn’t want to go to Comi-Con and treat those fans to the rest of his wealth? 3.5 out of 4 stars.”
Ugh, Phil!
“Anything else I can interest you in?” the vendor wiped her brow. “Perhaps The Wall Street Journal? A fashion magazine?”
“I don’t think so,” I looked over her small selection.
I was about to walk away when I saw Us Weekly with Matt and Selena on the cover.
I picked it up. “I’ll buy this one.”
“Don’t you just love those two together?” she beamed. “They’re my favorite Hollywood couple!”
I was running through Central Park at four in the morning. I was trying to make sense of what I’d seen in Us Weekly, but none of it added up: Matt was kissing Selena in the park, touching her face in a car, and rubbing her baby bump at a party.
What part of the “we look so in love and we’re getting married and having a baby” collage was I not supposed to believe?
I felt stupid. I should have known Matt’s interest was too good to be true. I should have known that I needed to work on myself before going out with someone else, high profile actor or not.
I suddenly remembered coming across an article that said the key to “starting over” was first realizing how to be happy alone. It also suggested that I change some of my habits, but I doubted I could ever let go of my early morning runs.
I sat on a bench and took out my wallet. Once again, my license read “Melody Carter” and showed me wearing my beloved red hair. All my credit cards had been re-issued and read “Miss Melody Carter.” I had to fight with American Express management to get the “Miss” attached. They didn’t understand the importance.
I promised myself I wouldn’t take on the groom’s name until a month after the wedding next time, if there ever was a next time.
It was hard starting over, realizing that I had to start over. Changing my name from Mrs. to Miss was easy; learning to accept what that meant was becoming harder each day.
I pulled my knees up and began stretching. I needed to get through five more miles.
“Melody? You’re back! You run this early too?” Matt Sterling stopped in front of me and removed his hat.
The last person I want to see right now…
“Hello Mr. Sterling. Yes I do.”
“I hardly see any paparazzi during this time of day. That’s what makes it great for me. Why do you run so early?”
Please go away.
“Are you mad at me or something?” he took out his ear buds.
“Why would I be mad?”
“I don’t know. How are you? I’ve been trying to find you for the past couple weeks.”