The Fall Up

Honestly, I missed the calm I felt with him just standing next to me smoking a cigarette.

“Nope,” I replied curtly, taking the emerald-green tunic top he’d picked out from his hands.

“Then stop moping and call him, Levee. Put your damn pride aside and just call the man.”

“And say what? ‘Sorry I’m a basket case workaholic who can’t even remember to eat on my own’? ‘Sorry I kicked you out of my house for trying to help me’? ‘Sorry I met you on the top of a bridge while contemplating suicide The exact same bridge that your sister jumped off. You want to go on another date with me?’ Yeah. No, thanks.” I laughed even as tears built in my eyes. “Let’s not forget that, even if I could magically find the words to say, I have no one to tell them to. He hasn’t exactly been beating down my door.”

Just because I hadn’t seen Sam since he’d stormed out of my house didn’t mean I hadn’t thought about him. I’d flipped my house on end but never could find that scrap of paper he’d given me with his cell number. I’d finally given up. I’d called rePURPOSEd more times than I’d ever admit, hanging up before anyone had the chance to answer, sometimes even before the first ring.

For a person who could tell an entire story within the lyrics of a three-minute song, I couldn’t find the words to fix things with Sam. I was mortified about the way I’d acted the last time I’d seen him. Here was a guy I genuinely liked, who’d gotten a front-row seat to one of the biggest meltdowns of my life. Embarrassment couldn’t even begin to cover it.

“Okay,” he sighed. “Maybe you should lead with sex. ‘Hey, I’m sorry, but can you at least stop by for another romp in the sack, and this time, let my pal Henry touch your cock?’”

My mouth fell open in a mixture of anger and disgust, but Henry threw his hands up to stop me before I had the chance to unleash it on him.

“I’m kidding!” He lowered his voice and mumbled, “Kinda.”

I hurled a coat hanger at his head.

He dodged it.

It was very anticlimactic.

“You’re lucky I love you,” I warned, stepping into a pair of black pumps.

Henry cleared his throat. “Wedges.”

I glared at him for several seconds but eventually stepped to the side and slid the nude wedges on instead.

“In all seriousness, Levee. I’m not sure a new boyfriend is what you need right now. But I certainly am not going to stop you. Reach out to him. Give him the chance to tell you to fuck off.”

I flinched. That’s exactly what I was afraid of.

“Orrrr…more than likely so he can apologize too. Have you stopped to think he might be feeling just as weird about the way things went down as you are? So what if he hasn’t popped up on your doorstep like some lost puppy. That doesn’t mean he isn’t wishing you’d show up on his.”

God, I hated when Henry made sense.

But what I really hated was knowing he made sense and being too afraid to listen to his advice.

“I have to go. I’m going to be late.” I scrunched my hair one last time in the mirror before heading to the door.

“You’re being ridiculous!” he called after me.

“See you in two hours. I’ll bring back dinner,” I replied as if he hadn’t spoken.

“No sushi!”

“Then no dinner!”

I smiled when I heard him curse.

When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I found Devon waiting for me with a wide smile.

“You look beautiful,” he said warmly.

“Thanks.”

“You know he’s just going to ask me to get him something besides sushi, right?” Devon said, fishing his phone from his pocket. He turned it to face me and lifted his fingers in the air to count down from three. No sooner had he tucked the last digit away than a text appeared on his phone.

Henry: Can you bring me back something to eat that doesn’t taste like it washed up on a radioactive beach?

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