Not Looking for Love: Episode 6 (A New Adult Contemporary Romance Novel) Read Online Free PDF

wanna get stuck somewhere with you thinking I led you on."
    I have no idea why I'm even still talking.  
    He laughs and lights a cigarette of his own. "You're funny. A lot funnier than Mike, anyway. You're his brother right?"
    I nod and leave it at that. He takes a long drag and walks away, enters the building. Mike comes out a few minutes later.
    "So now you know what to expect," he says.
    I throw the cigarette on the ground and step on it. "Yes, thank you for that, Mike. You've truly done so much for me. I don't know if I can ever repay you."
    "In time you will, I think," he says and walks to the car.  
    I don't know if he's just ignoring my sarcasm or if he's too insane to understand it. Either way, I'd prefer to be dead. Which still scares me, but only just.

    On Friday afternoon it finally hits me. The heavy, prickly ball of tears had started building in my chest before lunch, and by my last class of the day it's a brick in my throat, so heavy and painful my entire body is cramping up. It's been two weeks since Scott left. More than a week since he last called me. He's not coming back. Not changing his mind. Not taking any of it back. Not even apologizing.
    I grab my laptop and books and leave the classroom. I rush down the hall, run down the stairs, tears blinding me. Someone calls my name as I crash through the front door, but I ignore it. It's probably not even real. I'm just imagining Scott calling me, manifesting it. I run right across the grassy field, almost trip over the rope fence at the end of it. Then I'm standing in the street, wind snaking around my legs, my chest, cooling the tears in my eyes.
    I haven't cried since the night Scott left. It was because I didn't accept it as real, I realize now.
    It's been such a crazy seven months. My mom died, I chased a guy like a sex crazed slut, had an abortion, been kidnapped, broke up with Scott, got back together, broke it off again, moved in with him even though I only knew him for a few months. And now, in this quiet, windy street things finally stop crumbling all around me. Everything finally finds a place in my mind, solidifies, becomes real. Scott leaving me this final time is real.
    I wipe my eyes, wrap my coat tighter around myself and start walking. The wind licking my face is like taking a cleansing, long overdue bath. The heavy brick of tears is gone from my throat, and my mind is clear for the first time in months.  
    It's time to move on, pack insane, messed up Gail away, hope she never reemerges.  
    I hold on tight to this feeling of freedom, this lightness. I should go visit my mom's grave, bring her some flowers. I haven't been since right after she died. I should go back to my home, pack away her things, perhaps take something for myself. I should move out of the apartment Scott and me shared. Because we're never going back to that. Not just like that. Like this never happened. Because it’s a pattern between us. One we'll never break if we keep walking right back into it.  
    A huge part of me is screaming that I'm wrong, that I need him back right now, need him to hold me, and tell me things will work out. But the truth is, I don't. And another part of me knows that very well too. Because what we started can't go on. Not the way we started it. Maybe some other way.
    I call Phillipa as soon as I enter the quiet, cold apartment. It still smells of the flowery detergent I used to clean it.  
    "Gail, you want to do something tonight?" Phillipa asks, surprise and joy filling her voice in equal parts.
    "Sure," I say. "Can I come over?"
    She still lives in the house we shared. Alone now, because she hasn't been able to find new roommates.  
    "OK, why not?" she says, doubt heavy in her tone. I haven't been back since I moved out almost three months ago. Mostly because I was afraid it would bring back memories of the night Mike broke in and dragged me out. I swallow the bile that rises at the thought now, but the fear is not as sharp, almost feels like