My romantic delusions would be my undoing.
The rest of Generation Rejects 2.0’s performance wasn’t half-bad. Paco did a decent job covering the songs we all knew and loved and eventually the crowd seemed to forgive him for not being the man we all wanted him to be.
When they were finished and the bar closed down, I didn’t feel up for sticking around for the after show drinks. I couldn’t laugh and joke around with my friends when I knew somewhere not far away, a certain someone was home alone and grieving the loss of something that meant so much to him.
I got into my car and headed home but somehow I ended up on a dead end street staring at Cole’s old clunker sitting in front of his rundown apartment building in the worst part of town.
My car idled in the middle of the road as I looked up at the second story window where a light was on and the curtains drawn.
Should I go up?
Should I call him?
And now I’ve lost everything.
His words were haunting me.
The look in his eyes was destroying me.
But I did the only thing anyone would do when they were desperately trying to protect their heart and soul.
I put my car into gear and drove home.
I slept like crap, spending most of the night tossing and turning in my bed. I woke up for work the next morning exhausted and angry with myself.
Why was I letting Cole get to me like this? Why was I letting him dominate my every thought?
So what! He had shown me a sliver of vulnerability! That didn’t mean that he had changed. That didn’t mean that he wasn’t still the same self-serving dick he had always been.
I couldn’t let three days with him back in town detonate my entire life. I needed to remember that self-respect was essential for the Vivian New World Order that I was instituting.
And self-respect did not mean crawling back to the man who had used me for years just because he seemed sad!
I was so focused on my internal pep talk I startled when I found Gracie awake, dressed, and making breakfast.
She too was all dolled up and looked ready to head to work.
“What’s with all the pretty?” I asked, indicating her outfit.
She looked down at her adorable skirt and button up shirt ensemble and shrugged.
“Interview.”
“Really?” I grinned and then I frowned, annoyed she hadn’t told me about this sooner.
Gracie hadn’t had an easy time of things since she had gone to rehab last year. The normally smart and focused girl with hopes of starting her own fashion magazine had settled on becoming a barista at the local coffee bar downtown
I knew she was disappointed in herself. She had been in the same journalism program as Riley in college. And now Riley was in grad school and working as a freelance reporter for a local newspaper.
Gracie had decided her aspirations needed to sidelined in place of getting herself together. And more power to her. That was where her head needed to be.
“Where?” I asked, getting out the bread and popping a slice into the toaster.
“Nothing major, just at the Southern Gardens magazine. They’re hiring a part-time columnist to write about festivals and events in the area.”
Well it wasn’t the New York Times, but it was a start. I gave her a huge smile and reached out to hug her. Gracie rolled her eyes and accepted my hug and I knew she was excited even if she was unsure whether she should be or not.
“You’ll nail it. I have no doubt,” I said with confidence. Gracie sipped on her tomato juice.
“I hope you’re right. I need to do something more than sling coffee before I lose my mind.”
We carried our breakfast into the living room and I turned on the news, as was my normal routine.
“So what did you think of the impromptu show last night?” Gracie asked, nibbling on her bagel.