When peer pressure pushes Lenny to try out a new dating app, she starts to realize that the past may not always define the future.
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Lenny Harlow wants a lot of things, but a boyfriend isn't...
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THE WILDERS LIVED IN A beige duplex that I swear was made to haunt my nightmares. Scratch that, the house had become a nightmare in itself. I was exaggerating, a lot, but I had earned that right. Being August's ex-girlfriend (barf) had to have at least one perk.
I rang the doorbell, saw August's eye through the peephole. The door opened in. August stood behind it, his hair, wet, curls falling over his eyes, droplets of water sprayed across his bare torso. But I did not care that he'd clearly been working out, neither did I care that he looked so much better with facial hair. I was here to have a civil conversation, and a civil conversation we were going to have.
"Lovely surp-"
"Don't." I held up a hand. "Let's get this over and done with."
He nodded slowly and took a step back. "I'll go get my car keys."
We ended up at this one beachfront diner we used to frequent. It was one of those places-like everywhere else-that held a lot of sentiment. If I could remember correctly, I think this was where we had our first date, but I could barely remember the details, so maybe not.
I sat in a pastel blue chair that was made to look like an oyster. Weird, I know. "August," I said with no follow-up in mind, "I'm sorry."
He was caught off guard, but quickly recomposed himself. I grimaced. "What exactly are you sorry for?"
I kissed my teeth several times, hesitating to buy myself much needed time. I hadn't thought this through. I hadn't thought about it at all.
"You can't deny that I hurt you, August, even if you did deserve it. But I want to be the bigger person here and apologize. I could've been nicer about ... I could've been nicer."
He tapped the tabletop two times. "Not to be a jackass, but why are you apologizing?"
My face fell. "I want to be the-"
"Cut out that bullshit, Lenny. You don't care about being the bigger person. You've proven that one too many times. You don't even care about me. You never did. So tell me. Why. Are. We. Here? Why did you agree to meet with me?"
With a heavy sigh, I propped my elbows on the table. "We're here because we really do need to talk, and because I need to apologize. We're here because I am trying so hard to move on, but no matter how hard I try, I circle back to you. It's like I'm a ship, and you're the harbour, and no matter how far I go, I always come back home. But you're not my home, and I no longer want those sort of ties with you."
August cracked the tiniest smile imaginable. "Do you ever feel like you made a mistake?"
"Well, someone is completely missing my point."
"No, no. I get it. Just ... answer me, please."
I sighed again. There was always so much sighing wherever he was involved. "Yes. Sometimes. But it's supposed to feel that way," I told him. "For four whole years, I loved you. You. And in a second-or, I guess, six months-we were no longer a thing. We were just you, and me. So of course, I occasionally feel like I made a mistake. You were part of my life for far too long for me to easily forget about you, and that's the problem I'm having. You're in my head, Wilder."
