The Hookup

Eleven

One week later

"You know what's really depressing?" Myra asks me as we sit in the break room for a quick lunch.

"What's that?"

"That I'll never have another honeymoon," she says like she's just figured out the secret to life. "I mean, think about it. There are things that you only experience once in your life. That's it. One and done," she continues on, somehow making me more depressed than I've been in the last seven days.

One and done; like my one and only one night stand with a guy I hope to never see again I want to say.

After I left Hero's room last Sunday morning, I hailed a cab and spent the rest of the day curled up in bed. One, for lack of sleep the night before and two, because I couldn't find it in myself to feel worthy of doing anything else. I felt like who I hated most. The woman who took someone else's man for themself.

"How was the honeymoon?" I ask out of habit. Today's Myra's first day back at work and while she did send me pictures of different things they did, I know she's dying to tell me all the details.

"It was amazing! Jo.. I'm not kidding. The water was so clear, it made the Hudson look brown."

"The Hudson is brown."

"And the food. Ugh.." she throws her head back and holds her stomach, seeming to relieve whatever memory of it she has.

"We have to take a girls trip," she says as she bites down on a carrot stick.

I'm all for taking a trip. Mexico means I'll be away from here. Away from all the guilt that follows me around when I think about that night. The past few days, I've found myself wondering if he told his girlfriend what happened or did he pretend nothing happened at all? Chances are, he's done this type of thing before. Cheated on her. The fact that not the slightest clue of her didn't manage to slip out during the hours of talking we did leading up to jumping into bed is a testament to how good he is at hiding the truth.

The first guy I hook up with after having my heart broken, and this is what happens? Sounds about right. But it's not my heart that hurts this time around. I feel bad for her. I know what it feels like to not have a clue what's happening under your own nose and to be hurt by the person you trust. I know what it feels like when all the secrets finally see the light of day and you wonder where the hell you went wrong. I wouldn't wish it on anybody.

"You okay? You seem down today," Myra asks as I continue to pick at my left over ramen from the night before. I haven't had much of an appetite lately and in order to keep myself occupied I've been picking up extra shifts for whoever needs them.

"I'm fine. Just tired I guess."

"Tell me about it. This jet lag is definitely catching up to me now that we're back."

Suddenly, Myra's phone alarms her that break time is over and it's time to head back to work. We're both in the middle of a ten hour shift and the sun is beginning to set. It's September now, so dusk comes a lot quicker than even a week ago, making nights like these sure to drag on.

As much as I want to tell Myra about my little hotel rendezvous after her wedding, I'm really not interested in going into much detail. Not only that, but then she'd tell Dan and since Dan's friends with Hero, it would probably get back to him that I was talking about him or something. Which is exactly what I want to avoid.

•••••

It's nearly midnight when I finally make it home, nearly tripping over the laundry basket I set next to the doorway when I was racing out for work. As much as coming home to an empty apartment made me sad after Marvin and I broke up, I appreciate it much more now. I don't have it in me to talk to anyone right now. I just want to sleep.

Since I seem to spend more time sleeping on my couch rather than my queen size bed, I slip off my shoes, strip off my scrubs until I'm left in just underwear and the tank top I wore underneath and settle in under a blanket. Seeing as how being single gives you a ton of time to watch hours of tv, I flip on Netflix and start browsing for something to put me to sleep.

I decide on some baking show to do the trick and just as I'm mid-yahn, my phone starts to vibrate from the pocket of my work pants. My nerves instantly spike. Who would be calling me this late, and most importantly why? I reach for my phone and realize it's an unknown number which only fuels my worry more and without thinking twice, I answer.

"Hello?"

Silence.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Josephine?" A low accented voice from the other line. Instantly, my stomach's in my throat. This can't be...

"Josephine, it's Hero. Please don't hang up."

You have got to be kidding me right now.

I sit in silence with the phone up to my ear, anger boiling inside me. How did he get my number? Why did he ever think I would want to hear from him? It's been a week and I'm pretty sure my parting words to him should have been a very large sign to leave well enough alone.

"Jo— are you there?" His voice comes out a bit strained. Like he's worried I'll even respond.

"What do you want, Hero?" I say coldly, letting him know I don't want to talk.

"Josephine. Please. I just want a chance to explain," his words come out hurried, like he's trying to say as much as he can with what little time I'll allow him. "Those texts you saw that morning. It's not what you think."

"And how's that, Hero? It looked pretty undeniable to me," I say with a bored tone. Not having to fake it at all.

"I meant what I said when I told you I didn't have a girlfriend. We broke up. That's not a lie."

"Does she know that?"

"What?" He asks confused.

"Did she know things were over or is that just something you told yourself so you could have your fun while you were here?" With every second that passes I can feel myself becoming more and more irritated. I don't even know why I'm still talking at this point, much less listening to whatever he thinks he has to say.

"Emma is my ex girlfriend," he begins and then pauses to take a deep breath. "A few days before the wedding, I walked in on her sleeping with one of my friends."

Not gonna lie, his admission somewhat stuns me. His girlfriend cheated on him if what he's saying is the truth. Not the other way around. As I try to soak in the information, I can't tell you how much time passes before I hear him say my name again. Drawing my attention back to the conversation.

"Jo, are you still there?"

"I'm sorry that happened to you," is all I can think to say. As relieved as I may be to know my drunken ways didn't end someone else's relationship, I'm fully aware that what's happening right now isn't normal. Hooking up with someone once out of convenience who lives thousands of miles away shouldn't lead to them calling me on the phone.

"Look, I appreciate you calling to explain yourself. And like I said, I'm sorry that that happened. We had a fun night, Hero. And I hope you had a good flight back."

"No—wait," he blurts out before I interrupt him.

"Goodbye, Hero. And please... don't call me again."