The Break-Up Psychic (27 page)

Had she punched me in the stomach, I’d feel no different. The air has left my body and I can’t breathe. The door slams behind me, and I place a hand against my chest as I walk back to my car, forcing myself to breathe. How could I have been so wrong? How could I have let this happen, again? Everything about my past experiences with men and relationships told me not to trust in him, but I went and did it anyway. I believed him.

I drop into the driver’s seat and pull the door closed. My phone lets out a high-pitched beep, alerting me of a new text message. I pull the phone from my purse and Tim’s name flashes onto the screen.

Thinking about those itty-bitty shorts. Want you back, Babe. Call me.

I’ve had this whole thing wrong from the get-go. Happily ever after? It’s nothing but a farce, a fiction made up to put little girls to bed at night, not a code for grown women to live by. I thought Sam was Mr. Right; I thought he was going to love me and be honest with me and now I know I’ve just been a fool to have ever believed him. At least I know who Tim is. I ram my key into the ignition and peel away from the curb, leaving Sam’s house, Roxy, and my crushed dream of finding real love behind me. It’s time for me to grow up and stop living my life like it’s a freaking romance novel. I turn right onto the highway and floor it.

He loves me, he loves me not. Well, in all fairness, he did only say he thought he was in love with me. The doorman is nowhere to be found and I’m left waiting on the sidewalk in front of my former home. I’ve been resisting the urge to call Luanne for advice. If she knew where I was right now, what I was about to do, she’d probably attempt a bathroom lobotomy. I watch through the glass as old Mrs. Jennings from 15F exits the elevator with her two snotty pugs, Lawrence and Julian, named after her second and third husbands. Tim used to joke the men had been reincarnated as the ugly little dogs, allowing Mrs. Jennings to castrate them both in this life and the next.

As she exits the lobby doors I reach out to hold the heavy glass for her and sneak inside the marble-floored room while she leads Lawrence and Julian on their morning walk. I punch the Up button and slide inside the compartment as the doors open. There’s something about being in this elevator that has my alarm bells stirring, throwing off the muteness they’ve adopted since I left Roxy at Sam’s house. I suppose it was a former trip in this elevator that has them agitated. Barely less than a month ago, I was leaving this building in a similar circumstance to which I am now entering it. I shake off the bells, commanding them to fall silent as the elevator rises.

I arrive on the eleventh floor and boldly step from the elevator, determined to start making some smart decisions about my relationships with men. Love is no longer even a factor in the equation. Reaching the apartment door, I knock succinctly, determinedly. When it opens to reveal Suzy, wrapped in the blue silk robe I forgot to remove from the apartment, I realize I’m not surprised. Her fake breasts push aggressively at the supple fabric.

“What the hell do
you
want?” she asks, crossing her arms beneath her ample bosom, exposing a deep crevasse of cleavage.

That’s it, I give up. Why are you such an asshole, Universe?

Exasperated and angry, I say, “You know what, Suzy? I’m not here to talk to you. Why don’t you get your fake,
liposuctioned
ass out of my way?” I push through the doorway, knocking her aside, and scan the room for signs of my maniacal ex-boyfriend.

“Hey, Babe,” his voice calls out from another room, “you
wanna
go again before I’ve got to get back to the office?”

Tim, shirtless and shoeless but donning his perfectly altered suit pants, comes sauntering into the room, ignorant of my presence or the indignant posture Suzy’s taken up against the still open doorway.

“You pig,” I say, finally getting his attention.

The last time I caught Tim unawares, he had the good grace to at least try and pretend that what I walked in on wasn’t what was really happening. This time, all he can muster is, “Oh, shit.”

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” I say. I turn to leave but I think I’ve earned the last word when it comes to this relationship, so I spin back around to face him. “I got your text from this morning, telling me that you wanted me back. I just came by to tell you that I wouldn’t have you back if you were the last man on this earth. You’re sick, you know that, right?”

“Ellie, wait, I—”

“You what?” accuses Suzy from the door.

“I—shit. I know this looks bad but you weren’t coming around and—”

“And you can’t go one month without getting laid?” I spit at him.

“One month?” interjects Suzy, “Try one day.”

I look back at her then turn my steely gaze on the man who thought he was maybe in love with me, but definitely, surely, disgusts me. “Don’t come near me ever again.” I pause at the door and turn to face off with the woman who, unwittingly, has saved me from yet another mistake. “Even
you
can do better this douche bag.”

She shoots me a venomous look, but she’s not my problem anymore. I flee the apartment, run down the hall and leap past a neighbor and into the open elevator she’s just called. As the doors close, I hear Tim tearing down the hall after me, calling my name. My last glimpse before the doors close is of him trying to stop the elevator with his hands. How ironic.

I’m shaking like a leaf, unable to stop the tears that splash down my cheeks. My old neighbor from 11C, a fourteen-year old girl wearing a skirt so short even Luanne would disapprove, says to me, “Are you, like, alright? I mean, he was, like,
gonna
lose a hand in that door. Did you guys get back together?
Cuz
I thought he was, like, seeing that pretty girl from the second floor.”

I cry harder and when we reach the lobby I half run, half slide my way across the slick marble floors, throwing open the building’s door to escape onto the sidewalk.

“Ellie?”

It’s the only voice that could still shock me after the morning I’ve just had. “Sam? What are you doing here?”

Sam and Jason are standing next to a pick-up truck with the auto shop information scrolled across the passenger side doors.

“We came to tow a car back to the shop.” Seeing my face, Sam rushes toward me, concern spread across his handsome features. “What’s going on? Are you hurt?”

I jump back before he has the chance to touch me, my hurt turning to anger as it boils over inside of me. “Yes, I’m hurt! I’m hurt and angry and I don’t ever want to see you again!” I yell at him.

“What?” Sam tries again to reach for me, and again I turn away from him as I wipe the tears off my face. “Ellie, what’s wrong?” he demands.

“I trusted you. You told me you’d never hurt me, that I could believe in you, but you’re no better than the rest of them.”

“Ellie, you’re not making any sense. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I went to your house this morning. I must admit, I was surprised to find out you have a new roommate.”

Understanding floods Sam’s face and he again moves toward me, catching my arm at last and pulling me close to him. “Wait, let me explain.”

“Ha!” I laugh. “Where’ve I heard that one before?” I try unsuccessfully to wrench my arm from his grasp, but his hand is too strong.

“Stop being a fool and listen to me,” he orders, gripping my other arm tight, pulling me close to him. “I’m not with Roxy anymore. She needed a place to pass the night, that’s all.”

“Yeah, she told me it’d been a long night for you two,” I say, standing on tiptoe to look him squarely in the eyes.

“Ellie, nothing happened.”

“If it was all so innocent, why didn’t you just tell me about it?”

“Because you didn’t need to know and I didn’t want you getting the wrong idea.”

“Yeah, well, I think I’ve finally got it right.”

“Stop,” Sam says, shaking me a little.

Tim bursts through the building’s doors but, seeing Sam’s hands on me, he slows his pace and gathers himself instantly into that other person, the one who can charm his way into your life then destroy it.

“What’s going on, Ellie?” he asks, placing his hands in his pockets, completely unaffected by the fact that he’s standing half-naked out on the street.

Sam’s grip loosens in surprise and I wiggle free of him, putting distance between myself and my past as well as present mistakes.

“What’re you doing here?” Sam demands of Tim.

“Me?” Tim asks, bringing his hand to his chest in mock confusion. “I live here. What’re you doing here, friend?”

“I am not your friend,” warns Sam. “Ellie, why are you here with him?”

I’m cold, even though it’s easily ninety degrees outside. I raise my chin and look fully at Sam. There’s something about him that doesn’t look right. He seems surprised and hurt, but he’s the one that’s betrayed me. I want to hurt him, hurt him the way he’s hurt me. “We had some unfinished business.”

Sam clenches his fists, the muscles of his arms tensing and bulging beneath his t-shirt. His brow is knitted together and he looks dangerous. I feel sick to my stomach, like I’m on a rollercoaster. All I want is to get in my car and leave them both behind me.

“That’s right,” Tim cuts in. “She and I have a lot of unresolved business that we need to put to bed, so to say.”

I feel disgusted and dizzy. Sam never takes his eyes off me, ignoring Tim’s taunts. “So this is your choice, is it?” he asks.

I want to scream at him some more, bang my fists on his chest and ask him how could he make me believe in him and then hurt me like this. Not even Tim was this much of a bastard. “Yes, it is,” I lie.

Sam nods his head and breaks eye contact with me. Jason, who’s been standing on alert, ready to fight, during the exchange, moves around the car, gets into the driver’s seat and starts the engine. I watch as Sam moves toward the passenger side door then pauses. He looks back at me and again I’m confused by what I see in his eyes. He looks…defeated.

“I hope you’ll be happy with your choice.”

I can’t say anything in response because I have no words left for him. Sam gets into the truck and they pull away from the curb, leaving Tim and me standing at an angle from one another on the sidewalk.

“You’re making the right decision,” Tim says, walking toward me. “You and me, we’re great together. Ellie, I’ve been thinking, and I think we need to stop dicking around here. I think we should get married.”

For the fourth time in less than two hours, I’m well and truly shocked. All my life I’ve dreamed of meeting Mr. Right, of getting engaged and having a big, fairytale wedding, but this reality is as far from that daydream as it could possibly be. Here I am, standing in the middle of a sidewalk, wearing jeans so tight they appear to be painted on me, facing my shirtless ex-boyfriend whose mistress is upstairs in my old home, wearing my silk robe, and before he’s ever even uttered the words ‘I love you,’ he’s asking me to stop dicking around and marry him. I reach back and with all of the strength left in my worn-out body, I punch Tim full in the nose.

He’s caught completely off guard and falls to the ground from the impact of the blow. “What the fuck!” he shouts, getting onto his knees and holding a hand to his bloodied face. “You’re insane!”

“Actually, Tim, I think that’s the sanest thing I’ve done in a very long time.”

I may be on my own, once again thrown into the abyss of a broken heart, but damn if I’m not going down swinging this time. “Oh, and by the way,” I call over my shoulder, “my answer is no.”

Where do you go when you have no home and a badly broken heart? A bar, of course. The darkness of The Cavern is a welcome respite from the bright and cheery sunshine outside, which is really just pissing me off. The knuckles on my right hand are sore and swollen. Tim’s head was every bit as hard as I thought it would be, but the discomfort I feel now is really a small price to pay for the release I felt when my fist connected with his nose.

Luanne’s Aunt Jo is leaning against the bar, smiling sweetly at the only other person in the room. Hart. The strip of sunlight following me inside disrupts their private conversation and they both look up, squinting at my silhouette. I’m too tired, too sad, and too mad to care about what time it is. It may still be morning for some folks, but it’s whiskey time for me.

“Hart,” I acknowledge, approaching the old biker.

“Are you
lookin
’ for Lu?” asks Jo, her bouffant hair motionless regardless of her movements.

“No, I need a drink, actually. I’ll have whatever he’s having.” I pull out the stool next to Hart, not caring that I’m probably interrupting something intimate.

A curious glance passes between Jo and Hart, and they both turn to regard me as if I’ve grown a second head since they last saw me.

“It’s a bit early,
darlin
’,” says Hart, leaning back on his stool to better assess me.

“Yeah, well, it’s been a long morning.”

Jo catches Hart’s eyes and when he gives her a slight nod, she moves to collect a whiskey glass from beneath the bar. She fills the glass to the finger mark and slides it in front of me.

I take it in my hand, close my eyes, and throw back the drink in one swallow. “Another,” I state.