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If someone saw me right now, they’d probably think I’d been turned to stone … or maybe that I was certifiably insane.
A logical person might stay calm and give their boyfriend of seven years the benefit of the doubt.
I mean, maybe she has the wrong Todd? Or maybe this is a joke from his work buddies? But I have to admit he’s been acting off lately … canceling our plans, and getting that far-off look in his eyes, like he’s daydreaming. Probably about someone who isn’t me.
Add that to the comment from Brooks, and the truth seems pretty obvious.
And seriously, Trudy?? Todd and Trudy. How perfect. Ugh.
I turn and stomp my way up Todd’s massive stairway leading to his front door. When I knock, I realize how much of an idiot I’ve been. We’ve been together for SEVEN years, and I have to knock … because he’s never given me a key.
Never proposed to me.
Never given me a solid sign of commitment.
The sudden clarity of it all makes my knock turn into more of a belligerent banging. I glance to my left and see one of Todd’s hoity-toity neighbors staring at me. He’s wearing an expensive tailored suit and a watch that looks just like my father’s (meaning it’s ridiculously expensive).
I give him a tight smile and do my best Princess Diaries wave—just the way my mother taught me. He sniffs, then walks inside his house that looks exactly like Todd’s. Every house in this gated community looks the same … brick that’s been painted white, black decorative railings and window panes, and five boxwood trees on either side of the driveway. If it weren’t for the house numbers, no one would know which house was their own.
It’s always been hard for me to take this neighborhood seriously since Todd works remotely for his father and uncle’s billion-dollar media conglomerate. He’s likely highly overpaid for the work he does. Daddy’s money is definitely footing the bill for this place. My house might not be in a luxurious, gated community … but I paid for it myself.
A scene pops into my head of two baby birds. They’re in their nest, comfortable and safe, until the mama bird tries pushing them to fly. One takes off instantly, soaring and ready to be free. The other refuses to leave, instead opening its mouth and begging for the mama bird to feed him. That’s me and Todd.
After several minutes of waiting for an answer, I’m about to turn and leave, but the door finally opens. Two women answer the door and that churning in my stomach returns.
“Hi?” A blonde with a classy bob answers. She’s wearing a black cocktail dress that is a little too sexy for my liking. “Can we help you?”
The other has long, dark hair. Her shoulder rests against the door frame. She’s also wearing a cocktail dress. It’s short, barely reaching the middle of her thighs. Both women are gorgeous.
I can hear laughing from the inside of the house, and try to peek past them, but they scoot closer together like I’m unwelcome.
“Are you here for the music and poetry night?” The one with dark hair asks, assessing me with a judgemental gaze.
Music and poetry night? Did he seriously host a party when he was supposed to take me on a date? And then didn’t even invite me?
He couldn’t even care enough to think about me.
I square my shoulders and plaster the best smile I can muster on my face. “Could I speak with Todd?”
The blonde uses her thumb to gesture toward the backyard. “He’s on the back deck getting the stage set up. The gate should be unlocked.” She pauses a moment, then shuts the door in my face.
The churning in my stomach is now replaced with hot, unadulterated anger. Partially at Todd, and partially with myself. How have I been so freaking blind?
Eyeing the cobblestone path that leads to the backyard, I contemplate removing my stilettos despite the freezing December weather. But knowing how unpredictable the weather is in Kansas, I’m just thankful it's not covered with ice or snow.
Much to my mother's dismay, I’ve never been a graceful swan like my older sister. All my lessons and training just couldn’t undo my body’s natural distaste of gravity. I fake it pretty well … but don’t want to risk twisting my ankle. I take my Christian Louboutin’s off to traipse down the stone path barefoot.
The stones are cold on my feet and I pull the collar of my coat up to cover my neck with my free hand. Letting myself in the back gate, I brace myself for what I’m about to see.
Sure enough, not only did Todd get a legitimate stage for tonight, but he and his groupies hung romantic lights and created the perfect ambiance for a poetry reading.
Has he ever put this much effort into planning something for me? Not once.
Todd, along with several other men in nice suits, are putting the final touches on the stage and setting up chairs. I stand there awkwardly, holding my heels in one hand, because what else do I even do? I hadn’t thought this far ahead. Before I can decide, the rest of the party comes outside, and now there’s a whole crowd of classy party-goers.
Do I confront him in front of all these people? Do I feign ignorance and join the poetry reading?
Realizing I have no interest in joining them, or having a public breakup, I clear my throat and hope he hears it over the noise.
