She’s talking to Jess.
Chapter Thirteen
Zoey
What a fucking night.
If I could purchase some sort of bleach to erase what happened, I would gladly do so in a heartbeat. It was bad enough I had to deal with Jess and his familiar jealous ways, but I didn’t expect Drew to follow in his footsteps.
Okay, so maybe my idea to pretend Drew and I were dating wasn’t genius. It worked to a certain extent. I got my revenge on Jess. So, why aren’t I over the moon? Why wasn’t I jumping for joy watching the man I gave my everything to be torn apart because he couldn’t handle watching me with another man?
Sure, I missed him—a lot. But I didn’t think I was in love with him anymore. Tonight only confirmed that. He’s familiar, comfortable, yet there are so many elements in our relationship that destroyed me as a person. I know better than that. At least I think I do.
What rubbed me the wrong way is Drew thinking I would so carelessly throw myself back into Jess’s bed. Give me some fucking credit! And to call me a puppy dog? I would have happily punched him in his beautiful face had he not been drunk. Not to mention he was already sporting a cut lip and bruised cheek from fighting with Jess.
I decided to leave Drew wandering the streets. He’s a big enough boy to be responsible for his drunken actions. I’m not his girlfriend or his keeper. He usually isn’t so careless, and I can probably count the number of times on one hand over the past years when I’ve seen him this intoxicated. Unlike myself, he only drank himself into this stupor when there’s a reason.
The first time he’d done it was after a big altercation with his dad. It happened another two times after that. The fourth time was when he almost got fired because of Angela stalking him, and his almost-fail on a medical assignment.
The fifth—well, something happened tonight.
As much as I don’t welcome drama, I know I’m partially to blame for the violent outburst. Okay, maybe all to blame.
With Drew gone, I decide to stop by Gigi’s to unleash my inner thoughts. I need Gigi’s wise words to give me guidance. Something she often does when I’m clueless.
Gigi stares at me, expressionless, after I explain to her what happened tonight. All of it. No holding back.
“That’s some night. So, the question is… do you still love Jess?”
“No,” I say with a slight cough.
“I sense hesitation in your voice.”
“My throat’s itchy. So, what do I do about Drew?”
“You let him cool down. I agree, it’s out of character, but the two of you have a great friendship. Let him sober up, and I’m sure you’ll have a long talk and smooth it over.”
She’s curled up on the sofa with Diana and a cup of herbal tea. Graciously, she offers
me one, which I politely refuse. My stomach’s feeling off with all that quail and champagne floating around.
“So, this thing with you and Drew. How serious is it?” she questions.
“There’s no ‘thing’ with Drew and me,” I quickly correct her. “We’re just friends. Roomies.”
“C’mon, doll. From what you’re telling me, Drew doesn’t feel the same way.”
I’m rewinding the conversation in my head. Did I tell her that?
“Everything was for show. Sure, it felt nice, but it can never be like that between us. I mean, it’s Drew.”
“Yes, it’s Drew,” she reiterates. “Sometimes the best relationships start as friendships.”
“Gigi, he’s a manwhore. Plus, I’m not the type of woman he’s into. He likes model-looking chicks,” I brush it off. “He’s all about the modern woman, you know… the ones who like all that new music and hitting the gym.”
It’s past midnight, and Gigi’s cats provide me with that much-needed companionship that cats are supposed to give you. We talk a bit more about Jess, my feelings for him, and the possibility of him changing his ways.
“People can change. Husband number three had a gambling addiction. Blew his entire wages each week on the slots,” Gigi tells me. “Then, I packed my bags and threatened to leave. From that day on, he never stepped foot near a machine.”