Page 10 of Perfect Enough
“Chloe, if you push anything on your phone, I swear I won’t speak to you ever again.”
Her eyes lifted. “But don’t you want to move on? You’ve had such a hard year, Sophia.”
Letting out a long breath, I closed my eyes to keep my tears at bay. When I opened them, Chloe had put her phone away.
“What I want right now, Chloe, is peace. I want to bealone, and there is nothing wrong with that. My father left us, and Drake…well, he was just another typical man who couldn’t seem to keep his dick in his pants.”
“Chloe, not all guys are like that.”
“Says my best friend, who has random hookups.”
With a soft expression, she lowered her voice and said, “I don’t know what you’re going through, Soph, so I won’t pretend I do. But I’m here for you if you need me.”
I nodded. “I know, and thank you.”
Raising a single eyebrow, she asked, “Are yousureyou want to ditch the dating website?”
“I’m positive.”
When I stepped into my two-bedroom apartment after work and shut the door, I dropped back against it and cried.
Sliding down to the floor, I put my forehead on my knees. I was tired of holding back my tears, and for once, I just wanted to let it all go. So that’s what I did.
I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, but when I had no more tears to cry, I lifted my head to see my cat staring at me on the sofa. He was an orange and white tabby, and I was pretty sure he was the reincarnation of a grumpy old man. He just had that sort of attitude.
“Hey, Spice. How was your day?”
He let out a long meow that I interpreted as, “It was a lot better than yours.”
I got up and picked up my purse and bag, tossing them onto the sofa, not anywhere near Spice. He still let out a protesting meow.
“Fine, fine, fine. Let me get you your food.”
Spice followed me into the kitchen, where he somewhat patiently waited for his food.
“Here you go, lovebug, eat your yummies.”
Spice tore into his food like I hadn’t fed him in a month. I rinsed out the can, put it in my recycling bin, and then opened the refrigerator to see what I could make myself for dinner.Seeing the leftover chicken salad from yesterday, I quickly made a sandwich. Added some fruit and a few pretzels.
I sat down at the kitchen counter and took a bite. The apartment was so quiet, and I couldn’t help but shake my head as I thought about how I’d told Chloe this was what I wanted. Now, it just made me feeltooalone.
Glancing at my phone, I pulled up my father’s name.
It had been over four months since he’d committed suicide. He hadn’t left a note or anything to tell my mother or me why he did it. He’d simply left us…alone.
In my sessions with my therapist, I kept asking her why my mother was handling it so well. She kept pointing out to me that no one knew what happened when my mother was behind closed doors, and tonight, with my little crying episode, I suddenly knew in my heart that my mother did the same thing sometimes. Unless it was a good day, which…there weresome.
I read the texts I’d sent him over the last few months, starting with the one I’d sent last night.
Me: Why do men keep breaking my heart, Daddy? Why? It is so bad that I want to find the kind of love I’ve always dreamed of—the kind I thought you and Momma had? Maybe it doesn’t exist.
For a moment, I wondered if my mother was reading the texts. She most likely wasn’t since I’d seen her turn off his phone and put it in the drawer next to his side of the bed.
I typed another text. My finger paused before I hit send.
Me: I cried for the first time today since Drake left. I’m so angry at myself for crying. He isn’t worth the tears or the time I wasted on the floor while Spice stared at me as if I’d lost my mind. I don’t know what makes me sadder. The fact that he cheated on me, or that he did it when he knew I was at my lowest, right after you died. Who does that? What kind of a man picks upa woman at his girlfriend’s father’s funeral and then proceeds to sleep with her? I’m sorry, Daddy, but men are nothing but assholes. And you’re included in that group, for leaving me and Mom.
Setting my phone face down, I started to eat my sandwich again. Spice was now on the counter, sitting in front of me, staring at my blueberries.