Dr. Neurotic(29)

Ivy: Just come out tonight. It'll make you feel better.



Harper: Ivy's right, dude. A girls' night out with wine solves everything.



I called bullshit. The only thing that would solve my problems was if my  connection to Remy magically didn't exist and Nick and I were still  together.



Me: Believe me, you don't want me around. I'm a complete sad sack. We're  talking armpit hair and complete lack of personal hygiene. I'm just  going to hang out here tonight. Read a book. Take a bath. Binge-watch  GoT.



My phone rang a minute later, and I sighed when I saw, Incoming Call Harper, flashing across the screen.

Cripes. They wouldn't let this go. I appreciated their concern, but it  was unwarranted. I just needed some time to lick my wounds and get my  thoughts in order.         

     



 

I warred with the idea of sending the call to voice mail, but because  friendship and shit like that, I ended up muting Game of Thrones and  accepting the call by the fourth ring.

"Seriously," I said by way of greeting. "Couldn't we keep the eventual interrogation about my breakup to the group text?"

"Nope," Harper responded, popping her p loudly. "We wanted to hear your  voice. Are you sure you're okay? Aside from the days old pussy smell you  have going, of course."

"We?"

"Ivy's on, too. Consider it a three-way."

"Hi, Char. How are you holding up, sweetie?" Ivy asked, her voice soft with concern.

Jesus. Their sympathy was nearly my undoing.

What was it about that emotion that urged tears to form in your eyes?  Like, even when you thought you had it together, that you'd cried all  you could cry, one tiny inkling of sympathy and concern in a loved one's  voice and bam! The dam burst, and you were back to square one all over  again.

I swallowed hard against the building pressure in my throat. "I'm fine, guys. Seriously. I just need some alone time."

"Bullshit," Harper muttered. "We all know you're not fine."

"It's okay to say you're not fine, Char," Ivy chimed in. "I know I wouldn't be feeling too good after a breakup."

"Okay. Okay." I sighed heavily into the receiver. "I'm in a real rough  place right now, and honestly, your sympathy and concern are much  appreciated, but it's too overwhelming for me at the moment. I just need  some time to be alone with my thoughts and process it all."

"What exactly happened?" Harper asked. "I mean, you never really explained why you and Nick ended things … "

"God, it's a big, fat fucking mess to be honest," I muttered. "You know he has a daughter, right?"

"Yeah," they both answered simultaneously.

"Well, his daughter's mother is Winnie."

"Who is Winnie?"

"You know, Winnie," I repeated.

A few seconds of silence passed over this, until it all clicked into place for them.

"Oh, fuck!" Harper shouted. "You mean, Remy's sister, Winnie?"

"Yep."

"Jesus," Ivy muttered on a long exhale. "What are the fucking odds?"

"Probably so slim I should have bought a lottery ticket the day I met Nick Raines."

"I'm so sorry, Char," Ivy said, and Harper added, "Me too, Char. That's a  fucking bitch of a problem. I understand the braids under your arms  now."

I rolled my eyes at their jokes, but I was too sad to laugh. "Yeah, it really a hell of an issue."

"Is there anything we can do?"

"Not right now," I answered honestly. "I just need some time. But, I  promise that if I do need anything, you will be the first ones I call.  Love you guys. Thanks for being such awesome friends."

"Love you too," they responded, and shortly after that, we ended the call.

But before I could go back to my binge-watching, my phone pinged with another message.



Harper: Oh! One more thing! When do we get to see the new Brooklyn digs???



Ivy: Oh my gosh! I almost forgot about that! Invite us over soon, Char? Pretty, pretty please?



Well, unless they wanted to hang out with Doreen and Harry, it would  most likely be a while until I could invite my friends over to my house.  Hell, it'd be a while until I could invite myself over to my house. I  still hadn't found the strength to start the process of evicting them.

I knew I could tell Harper and Ivy the truth-I could tell them  anything-but I couldn't do it without going a few rounds of mocking. And  I wasn't in the mood.



Me: Soon. :) Once I'm all moved in.



Fingers crossed that milestone actually occurred.



Ivy: Don't forget to send us pictures of the new place!



I wasn't sure how that worked. Should I send them the barely there shots  I'd downloaded off the auction site or just take some candid shots with  Doreen and Harry milling about in the background?



Me: Will do. :)



After I sent my response, I chose to put my phone on silent. And then, I  thought better of it and just turned the damn thing off. Surely, I  could use a good twenty-four hours without any human contact or the  temptation of sending messages to someone I just needed to let go.

Nick. God, I missed him.

I'd sent him all of two messages since he'd broken up with me.  Variations of "how are you," both very vague in nature, and a hard-left  turn from our normal witty repartee. Not only were they painful to send,  it was even worse when I got his equally vague responses.         

     



 

But he'd made his decision, and even though it hurt like a motherfucker, I'd understood where he was coming from.

He'd worked too hard to make things right with his daughter, and now,  with their relationship stronger than ever, I wouldn't want him to risk  anything related to her either.

Don't go there, Char. Think about something else. Find a distraction.

I grabbed the remote off of the coffee table and turned up the volume,  loud enough to drown out my thoughts, but not too loud that the other  tenants in my building would start banging down my door for the  disturbance.

It worked for all of fifteen minutes. And then, my mind started to race.  Dissect. Relive. But most of all, wish things were different.

I just wanted to go back to that happy space where Nick and I had all the time in the world and nothing standing in our way.

Eventually, I gave up, switched off the television, and slipped on a  pair of Converse to head downstairs and check my mailbox. Generally, I  wasn't a fan of mail. I hated that I had to check a box every day, only  to receive a stack of bills, coupons, or credit card approvals. But  today, I was in need of the monotony. Surely, there would be something  inside there that would take my mind off things.

With one turn of my key, I came face-to-face with a single envelope. I  broke the seal with my index finger and unfolded the sheet of paper that  was inside.

It was the deed to my house.

A house I absolutely adored and one that I wasn't currently living in.

I had to stop dragging my feet and find an amicable way to get Doreen and Harry the fuck out of there.

Obviously, in a way that meant they didn't end up homeless. Or didn't cause them to be angry with me. Or feel sad.

Jesus. I really needed to get things into perspective. They were living  in my house-one that I'd paid for. They didn't necessarily deserve my  sympathy, right?




Over an hour later, I stood outside of my three-story brownstone and smiled at the view.

My home. God, she was gorgeous. I pulled the deed out of my purse and  slipped it into my back pocket as a reminder. I should be living here  now. I should be unpacking my boxes and setting up my home. Stay strong,  Charlotte!

With my knuckles to the door, I knocked three times and mentally  prepared myself to woman the fuck up and finally take what was mine.

Nick was yours, too, but that didn't turn out too well.

Fuck, my subconscious needed to chill with the bitchy attitude.

The door opened on a quick swing, and Doreen stood in her slippers and  robe, smiling back at me. "Charlotte!" she greeted, and before I could  stop her, she set her cane against the door and pulled me in for a tight  hug. "It's so good to see you."

"Hi, Doreen," I muttered into her shoulder.

Eventually, she released me from the bear hug and ushered me inside. "Come in. Come in. Harry will be happy to see you."

She shut the door behind us with a quiet click and glanced around me as if she was searching for something. "Where's Nick?"

"Uh … " I awkwardly shuffled my feet across the hardwood floors. "Well … we're not together anymore."

"Oh no," she responded with a frown to her lips. "Are you okay?"

I shrugged. "I'll be all right."

"Bless your little heart." She wrapped one arm around my shoulder,  grabbed her cane with her free hand, and led me into the hall. "I'm so  sorry to hear that."

Once we reached the kitchen, she basically forced me to sit down at the  table. "Sit here," she instructed. "You look exhausted and like you're  in need of a good home-cooked meal."

"Oh no. I-" I started to refuse the generous offer, but Doreen waved me off with a determined hand.