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Embarrassing.
“I am stronger than this,” I insisted.
“You’re being way too hard on yourself. You’re allowed to grieve a lost relationship. One you thought might go the distance.”
It was true. I’d already begun imagining a life with Erik, thinking the timing was perfect for kids in the not-too-distant future. My job was secure, as was his. I had my shit together—until now. And maybe that’s what spooked him, talking about next steps. But at twenty-eight, and with Erik approaching his mid-thirties, I didn’t think talking about our possible engagement status was so out of whack.
“You don’t know the half of it,” I insisted. “I wake up and think of Erik. Sit in meetings and think of Erik. At the gym, I think of him complimenting me on how strong my legs have become. In my bed, I imagine all the nights we spent together. Literally every waking moment, all I can think of is. . . stupid, idiotic, Erik. A guy who broke up with someone so casually after six months. What the hell is wrong with me?”
Charlee finished her sip of wine and, without missing a beat, said, “You’ve just had your heart broken, that’s what’s wrong with you. It’s going to take a major social media detox, a lot of tears and wine, not to mention a slew of distractions and talking things out with us—which is what friends are for, by the way—but eventually, you’ll forget about him. I promise.”
Tears welled in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. No one was sick or dying, after all. I’d been broken up with. It wasn’t the end of the world, even if it felt that way.
“Operation Distraction,” Charlee said, spotting Natalie.
“Operation Distraction,” Natalie agreed, handing me a fresh wine. “To that end, I have a crazy idea.”
I loved crazy ideas. “Shoot.”
“What are you guys up to two weekends from now?”
I would not cry. I would not cry.
“Uh oh,” Charlee said. “Oh shit. Erik had the weekend off. You guys were heading to Mirbeau Inn and Spa in two weeks.”
I nodded since the lump in my throat prevented me from saying much more.
“Charlee?” Natalie asked.
“Nothing that can’t be moved around,” Charlee responded. “Whaddya got?”
“What does Zoe love more than anything in the world?”
I answered immediately. “Erik.”
She rolled her eyes. “What else?”
“Cupcakes.”
“Oh geez. I’m talking places. What’s your favorite place in the world?” She held up her hand. “If you say ‘under Erik’ I will come at you.”
I couldn’t help a little laugh at that one.
“New Orleans?” I asked.
“Exactly. New Orleans.” Natalie looked back and forth between us like she’d just won some sort of prize. Proud. Excited.
“Are you proposing we go to New Orleans?” Charlee asked. “For the weekend?”
“In two weeks?” I clarified.
Natalie nodded. And I was supposed to be the crazy one. My eyes narrowed. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch,” she insisted but hedged a bit. “I mean, we are working on a conservation project with implications for the Gulf of Mexico. But that has nothing to do with it.”
Charlee and I exchanged a look. Unbelievably, Charlee shrugged her shoulders as if to say, “Why not?”
“New Orleans,” I mused. “In less than two weeks.”
