2. Happy Birthday

♛

Aurora:

Feeling numb all over me, I lay on the bed for close to an hour after waking up.

My head was throbbing with a sharp ache, and my eyes were burning with pricked tears.

Why am I still crying? I’ve been trying to stop the tears from spilling out, but the moment I wipe them from my eyes, more keep on clouding and blurring my sight.

My heart feels like it’s being ripped out. And that hurts.

“Rory!” a loud voice called out to me from outside, but I simply ignored it.

It hurts so much that I just want to stab it and end the ache. I feel miserable, and according to Trish, there is no cure for a broken heart; only distractions can help.

She said alcohol works like magic; I tried it out and finished a bottle despite my low tolerance to alcohol.

It actually worked at first. I wasn’t thinking about Adrian for the first hour, but right after an hour and a couple of minutes, I remembered one of the nights he kissed me to sleep, muttering ‘Amore’ in my ears, and just like that, the tears broke out like a dam.

It’s been over a week since he handed me the divorce papers. And all my efforts to meet Adrian and talk to him were all futile.

For the past seven days I’ve been going to his office to talk to him, but never in those days did I meet him there. And on the seventh day, I concluded that he was avoiding me.

I pressed my eyes tightly closed when I heard the sound of the door being barged open.

Angry footsteps approached the bed, and before I could plead for one more hour on the bed, Trish snatched the blanket out of my body, leaving me bare to the early morning January cold.

“I’m naked!” I whimpered, holding out to the edge of the blanket before she slipped it out of my body completely.

“I don’t give a flipping fuck about that. Get up from that bed and stop crying over a man who neglected you for months!” She tried to pull the blanket again, but my grip was just as tight as hers.

“I’m suffering from a hangover. My head hurts badly. Just one more hour, please.” I pleaded, but she was having none of that.

“Guess what doesn’t help with a hangover?” Her voice was so loud to my ears, sending a sharp ache through my skull; it felt like my head was being split open.

One of my eyes fluttered open, catching her small frame and her bird's nest ginger hair. I asked, “What?”

“Lying on the bed till 2 P.M.” Trish pulled the blanket harder and out of my grip; she fell to the floor with a loud thump, and the sound of her butt hitting the floor broke the silence in the room.

“For Pete’s sake! Who put the floor there?” she exclaimed with a loud wince. “My butt’s already too flat for this; I fear it might crack.”

I released a deep exhale. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

I knew coming over to my best friend’s place wasn’t the best idea; Trish was the loudest person to meet and discuss my situation with, but I had nowhere else to go.

I couldn’t go over to my late parent’s house; the tears will flow more over there. And the feeling of loneliness will consume me whole.

Trish groaned, rubbing her backside as she stood up. “Are you trying to kill yourself in the most dramatic way possible? Death by hypothermia is so last century, girl.”

Pressing my palms together, I recoiled myself on the bed and shut my eyes. Feeling more than miserable.

“Sweet mother, you are actually stark naked on the bed.”

“I told you,” I mumbled softly.

“I thought you were just kidding,” she threw the blanket over my body, “Only a ten-grade psychopath sleeps naked with this kind of January cold.”

I pulled the blanket tighter around me; my eyes caught the sight of the goosebumps spreading over my arms.

The cold was harsh, biting through my skin, but it still couldn’t numb the actual ache in my chest. It was why I’d left the windows wide open and the A.C. on full mode, giving space for the January frost to fill the small room.

I had hoped that the cold would lessen the pain I was feeling and maybe make it easier to ignore how numb I felt.

I hadn’t been trying to freeze myself to death, at least not really. It was just easier to focus on the chill biting my skin than the open wound Adrian had left in my heart.

Trish let out a deep sigh. “You really need to get up, Rory. I made breakfast and lunch, and you’ve been in bed through it all.”

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, pressing my lips together and feeling so broken, because despite the fact I had promised myself that I wouldn't be miserable, here I was.

A frown curved up my brows, and I jerked up from the bed when her words registered in my head, “It’s past morning already?”

My eyes flicked over to the white wall clock close to the closet; at the same time, Trish responded, “And that’s why you should get up and come out for your meals.”

“It’s already 2 P.M.?” I moved up from the bed.

“Yes.” Trish answered, walking over to the mirror with a towel now wrapped around her upper body.

My foot touched the cold floor, and I winced at the cold. “I need to go somewhere.” I rushed over to the closet and brushed through the dresses, looking for my brown top.

“No,” my friend turned to me with a glare. I ignored her with a blank stare and turned back to the closet.

She cursed under her breath and walked over to where I was standing. “Have you actually been listening to all I’ve been saying to you these days?” she asked, staring up at me with a glare that was just as chill as the cold outside.

I ignored her until she slammed the closet shut, almost trapping my hand inside. “What was that for?” I gaped at her.

“That was for not listening to me when I’m talking to you.” She crossed her arms over her chest, demanding attention from me.

A deep sigh escaped my lips, and I turned to look at her. “Alright, I’m all ears now. Say what you want to say to me, but you need to be fast; I have somewhere to be in the next hour.”

Her dark brown eyes flashed at me, “Does this somewhere to be at have anything to do with standing outside the door of the office of a man who isn’t interested in seeing you at all?” Her words stabbed me straight to my chest.

A frown curved my brows, “That was harsh, and blunt.”

She simply shrugged, “Someone just had to be honest with you.” She shook her head at me, standing firmly in my front, “Alright, enough of this pity party. You’ve had a week. Seven days of crying, drinking, and God-knows-what else you’ve been up to when I leave for work. It’s time to get your shit together and make use of that degree that’s probably in one of your boxes covered in dust.”

I closed my eyes, letting out a dry laugh. “It’s not that easy. You don’t understand.”

“Oh, I bet I do understand. I’ve been in countless relationships, something I’m not too proud to admit, but well… My point is, I've had my heartbroken like a glass, mashed like a potato, scattered like trash, and still handed out to me, but you’ve never seen me heartbroken to this extent, have you?” she asked, the truth in her words washed over me.

“You’ve never been married to understand this kind of pain, Trish,” I mumbled, feeling a sharp ache stab through my head.

The hangover was taking a toll on me, all thanks to Trish, who advised alcohol was a good option.

“Well, I guess so.” She huffed out a breath, held my arm, and led me to the bed.

“But the thing is, marriage and the relationships I've been in don’t have that much difference. I believe it's just a different kind of commitment. Marriage is a till-death kind of thing. Why my relationships are till I’m sick and tired kind of thing.”

I let out a sigh, feeling tears prick at my eyes again. “It’s been three years of marriage; how do I easily forget that?”

“Oh, baby.” She pressed closer to me, letting me relax in the warm scent. “I know it feels like the end of the world right now, but I promise you, it’s just a phase. You can’t let a man who neglected you be the final word in your life.”

A sob cracked through me, “I can’t just stop loving him; don’t you get me?”

“You don’t,” her voice was warm and gentle on my ears; she pulled me out of her embrace and tucked a strand of my dangling caramel brown hair from my face.

“You just won’t let love destroy you. You are going to pick up the pieces and figure out what the hell you’re going to do next. Because I swear to you, lying here naked in a freezer room isn't it.”

I closed my eyes. “I don’t know how to.”

“You don't have to know about all that right now,” she replied, smiling up at me.

She stood up and walked over to the curtains, pulling them open, “But step one is getting out of bed. Step two is showering because, no offense, you smell like cheap tequila from my fridge.”

A low chuckle slipped out of my lips. “Now, guess what step three is…” she trailed off with a small smirk as she walked over to the makeup table and picked a hairbrush from there, sinking it into her hair.

“What?” I asked in a low tone, suddenly feeling suspicious with the way she said it.

“Get a hot black dress.”

“No way,” I shook my head, immediately rejecting her offer before she could finish it.

“Let me finish,” she threw a frown at me.

I shook my head, getting up from the bed and walking over to the closet to pick a towel, “I'm not following you to a club, Trish. I haven’t even signed the divorce papers yet. So I'm still married.”

“What?” she twisted so fast at my words, “What do you mean by you haven't signed them?”

“What do you think I mean?” I ignored her, making my way to the bathroom. “Just know I can't follow you to a club.” She released a deep sigh.

“Pretty please? I can’t go alone.”

“Well then, don’t go.” I can’t remember the last time I stepped in a club, and right now, with how displaced I was feeling, a club certainly wasn’t the kind of place I should be in.

I wouldn't be able to bear the noise or loud music.

As if reading my mind, Trish voiced out, “It’s just the Dine Lane club. It’s not so far from here. And it definitely is not that noisy too,” she released a deep breath, “I just want to take you out, so you don’t have to soak yourself in tears on a day that’s supposed to be your birthday.”

From the tone in her voice, I could hear her genuine concern. I pressed my hand on the bathroom door handle and spared her a glance.

She walked over to me, and pulled me into a warm embrace, “Happy birthday, Rory.“ I hugged her back.

“I just want you to spend the night without thinking about Adrian,” she added softly. I shook my head.

I had completely forgotten that today was my birthday till she mentioned it.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I slowly shook my head and pulled away from her embrace, “I’m sorry, Trish, but I can’t…”

I reached for the handle of the door, about to step in, but her voice stopped me. “Even if the club is going to host Adrian Rossi?”

My legs came to a sharp halt, and I turned to meet her so fast.

“What?”