Catch My Fall: A Hot Mess Romantic Comedy by Miranda Newfield

Author:Miranda Newfield [Newfield, Miranda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2022-05-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

I didn’t just not text Stellan that night, I also didn’t respond to his texts all the next day.

At noon - You feeling better?

At four – You around?

At nine that evening – How long we planning the silent treatment, here?

Between those texts, I heard from:

Evan – You stole the shirt off my back, you Minx.

Jackie – How was the shindig last night? Did you have fun?

And finally Meghan. Meghan didn’t text though. No, she couldn’t have the courtesy to wait and call me after ten in the morning to rip my head off for abandoning her the night before.

“You were supposed to line me up for some hot Evan Lambert action. You whore. I can’t believe you left me there.”

I explained to the best of my ability without ever mentioning the catastrophe with Stellan or the hour I spent alone in a car with her man of choice. Still, she seemed to soften when I explained I’d had too many and needed to be taken home. She and I were still on the phone when the first text from Stellan came through. I used the phone call as an excuse to not answer. By the third text that day, I had no excuses.

Well, what was I supposed to do? Respond like nothing happened? I just wanted to forget – forget that I’d made a fool of myself, forget that I let myself behave that way, forget that despite all of that, the most damning part was that he hadn’t reciprocated. Discussing with Stellan just why he didn’t want my tongue in his mouth was the last thing I wanted – today or any other day for that matter.

I fondled my cell that night, chanting and re-chanting in my mind how to talk to him. “Man, remind me never to drink again,” or “the rumors were true, I’m the best kisser in town.” None of those felt cavalier enough. No matter what I said, my actions had done the talking, and there was no taking it back. I wrote and deleted the same words in various order six or seven times before I finally just set the phone beside my bed and went to sleep.

***

I woke to the doorbell and glanced at the clock. It was noon the next day.

I greeted Jackie at the door, my hair and clothes rumpled to an equal degree. She simply set her purse down by the door and hugged me.

Jackie was light itself. The weather could lighten her step in an instant, and from her entrance, I prepared for a truly lovely day outside. She was sunshine, even when she wasn’t feeling like sunshine, inside. I was too bedraggled to search her for cracks today. I was one big crack myself.

“Do you want to get dressed?” She asked in an almost pleading tone.

“Why? You weren’t planning to spend the day with a wino?”

I turned to the staircase as she assured me that she’d meant no harm. I wouldn’t be showering or shampooing the rat’s nest of a hairstyle I was sporting that morning, but at least I could clip it into submission.

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