Watching Fireflies

CHAPTER TWO

Chapter Two

Jordan

THE WHEELS OF a rolling suitcase echoed down the hardwood floor of Katherine’s building. I adjusted the duffle bag that was dislocating my shoulder, shifting the strap away from the still-sensitive spots on my upper arms. It had taken weeks for the deep bruises to heal, bruises in the shape of Ryan’s broad fingertips. The skin was still tender to the touch, or maybe I was just raw all over. I heaved another sigh as I continued down the long corridor. Sighs were my only form of communication of late. I had hibernated my summer behind the door of my childhood home, listening to hundreds of unanswered calls going straight to voicemail. I didn’t want to leave the house, not when I knew he was somewhere on the outside. The cutthroat financial advisor knew all about money and had a lot of it. He had a fiancé on his arm and a mistress in the bedroom. He wanted to climb the corporate ladder with some sort of trophy wife on his arm. A reflection caught my eye as I passed by a mirror in the hallway. My hair was haphazardly thrown into a ponytail as I modeled a NC State T-shirt and running shorts. My cheeks sunk in as I sported a winter’s tan. My eyes grayed like the inside of my soul. I was so far from lost. Yep. I was some trophy all right.

And this was all my fault.

I turned away from the unsettling sight and continued down a few more doorways until I reached Katherine’s condo. Inconvenience was something I would rather not bestow upon my friends, but my parents had left for a well-deserved vacation and I couldn’t stand to stay alone. The suitcase rolled to a stop behind me and I adjusted the strap on my shoulder once more. As I raised my hand up to knock, I exhaled in an attempt to rid the toxic past from my being. I didn’t bother trying to smile. I knew it wouldn’t work. The door flew open and my best friend stood in front of me with a bittersweet happiness etched across her face. Auburn hair softened her features, but in her narrowing brown eyes I detected a certain amount of pissed-off-ness.

“Thanks for letting me stay?” I shrugged my shoulders in question and winced away from her glare.

“I barely get any texts much less a call from you since you’ve been back.” She opened the door for me to pass, but didn’t bury her frustrations. “You could have called me, you know.” She closed the door behind her as I wheeled my suitcase into the middle of her expansive condo. “I know what he did was shitty—so ungodly shitty—but you can’t be a hermit. You can’t let him win.”

The view out of her picture window drew me. I stood before the wide expanse of glass and got lost in overlooking Center City Charlotte, watching the line of cars weave down North Tryon. The morning sun beat down on the pavement, summer stretching on for what seemed like an eternity. I turned away from the sun, wanting to hide from the light. Her welcoming palette of colors soothed me to an extent, but I hadn’t healed in these past few weeks.

“I don’t have to let him win. He already won.” I dropped my bag to the floor as my best friend’s eyes softened from the glare of anger to sympathy and sorrow.

“Honey, he lost you. He didn’t win.” She unfolded her arms as she stood in her work attire, having to deal with me before she started her day, and walked over to me. She tried to pull me into a hug, but I pushed away. I couldn’t handle being coddled. I wanted to live in my misery alone. But I just couldn’t be alone.

“But look at me. I’m a wreck! If I hadn’t gone home a day early, nothing would have happened! I would be getting married in a few weeks. I would be happy.” The tears reappeared as they had so often this summer. “Does this look happy?”

“It looks like a damn fool. Who would literally accept her fiancé dicking around on them? That’s what he did, Jordan. He dicked around on you. Do you want that? For even the possibility of happiness?”