“This does not bode well,” Shelby says under her breath.
“That I do.” I point at them. “That is exactly what I need.” My feet make their way straight into my office and toward the bottle of sweet tea I keep hidden in the closet for emergency situations. Grabbing the bottle, I unscrew the gold cap before I take a swig of the liquid. It tastes sweet but it burns all the way down. I put the bottle on my desk and slip off my jacket when I feel suddenly hot.
“Oh, shit,” I hear from behind me again when I see Presley walk into my office and going to sit down on one of the pink chairs facing my desk. She crosses her legs and just waits for me to say something.
“Is this code purple?” Shelby asks, not sure what to do as she comes into the room with her hands in front of her, wringing them together.
“Everyone needs to calm down,” Clarabella says, her voice coming out smooth, as she walks over and turns one of the pink chairs around for me to sit. “Why don’t you have a seat?” Clarabella is trying to remain calm, but from the way she is breathing heavily, she is not relaxed.
“Yes, let’s sit down,” Presley urges, patting the chair beside her. “Just so you know, you can’t just quit.” She laughs nervously, trying not to panic. I can tell all three of them are slowly starting to panic as they share a look with each other.
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this,” Clarabella says, “but Presley is right.” She looks at Presley, who blows on her nails and wipes them on the white silk shirt she is wearing. “You can’t just quit.”
I wish it was that easy. I wish she was right. But fuck me, seeing Matthew again, after all this time, was a shock. It also felt like someone wound up and kicked me right in the vagina using a soccer cleat.
“Whatever happened,” Shelby soothes in a soft motherly voice, “we can recover from it.”
“I don’t think so,” I fire back, picking up the bottle and having another swig. This time the burn doesn’t really get to me, which should be an indicator that I should not be drinking anything more.
“It’s not as bad as you think it is,” Clarabella says quietly, waiting for me. I put my head back and close my eyes, but then I just see Matthew’s face again and no one needs that right now.
“It really is,” I finally reply, looking at all three of them.
“I can assure you it’s not.” Shelby walks to me and puts her hands on my arms and smiles at me.
“I just met my ex-boyfriend and his fiancée.” I say the words out loud into the universe so now everyone fucking knows.
“Fuck,” Clarabella blurts, “it is as bad as you think.” If I wasn’t in my own shoes, I would laugh at this whole thing.
Presley’s and Shelby’s heads whip toward Clarabella, who holds up her hands. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just stating the obvious.”
“Okay,” Shelby remarks, “this might be a little hiccup.”
I laugh at her. “A minor issue.” She looks around.
“A little bump in the road,” Presley follows Shelby’s lead.
I look at Clarabella, waiting for her words of encouragement, but instead she shakes her head. “This is like an asteroid coming to the earth.”
“What is wrong with you?” Shelby hisses between clenched teeth at Clarabella. “This is not helping anyone.”
“Fine.” Clarabella rolls her eyes. “Why don’t we start from the beginning?”
“Yes,” Presley says, looking over at me, “define ex-boyfriend.”
“Ohhh, good one.” Clarabella nods her head. “Let’s define what kind of ex-boyfriend.”
“How long did you guys date?” Presley asks.
“Two years,” I tell the group.
“How long ago did the breakup happen?” Shelby asks.
“Almost two years ago,” I share, trying not to think of the day it all came to a screeching halt.
“Was he the best sex you ever had?” Clarabella questions, while Presley and Shelby groan. “What? This is a great question. We need to know what level it was on.” They just glare at her. “Okay, fine, we will table that question for after.” She glares at her sisters. “On a scale of one to ten.” She puts her hand on my desk and starts tapping her finger. “Ten being the highest, how much did you want to throat punch him when you saw him with his new girlfriend?”
“Fiancée,” I correct her. “Not like we just ran into each other at a bar or in Walmart. He came here with his fiancée.” Clarabella cringes at that statement and I swear if it wasn’t happening to me, I might laugh at this whole situation. “I mean, what are the odds that your ex-boyfriend is going to walk into your place of employment on your first day on the job and you get to plan his wedding?” I mean, the irony behind it, I just can’t even wrap my head around it. “But the answer is ten.”