Chapter Two

Saturday Morning (Susan’s POV)

Waking up to another day—another whole new day—felt strange after the last two years. I had once been in a relationship I imagined would last forever. And today? I was heartbroken, my head pounding, my eyes red from drowning my sorrows in tears mixed with vodka.

Life sucks, but men suck more.

Scumbags full of lies and empty promises. Two goddamn years? Susan cries as she reaches for more tissues on top of the drawer at the right corner of her bed, blows her nose, and tosses the tissue on the floor where the others had been heaped from last night.

Two years? I could have built an empire, something my parents never did. And even if I failed? It would have been worth my time.

A sharp knock at the door made me groan. “Who the hell is there?”

Keys jingled at the door. I knew instantly it was Val. She had a spare key.

“Oh my gosh, Susan,” Val said, stepping in. “You’re a mess, and you stink.” She squeezed her nose, as if the smell was unbearable.

I sat up, half-dazed. “I should take my keys from you or probably change the locks. Why are you even here this early in the morning? Don’t you have work?”

“Work?” Val raised her brows. She chuckled. “Girl, you’re gone. This guy did you hard, my friend. You can’t even remember that today is Saturday. You’re asking me about work while you’re in bed. You don’t have work yourself?”

“You don’t even remember that I called you last night?” I asked, my voice shaky. I lay on my bed with two pillows over my head, both hands holding my head like it was going to fall off. I stared at her with confused eyes.

“Well, I’ll remind you…” Val continued. She glanced at me and shook her head. “I called to ask about your plans for the weekend, and you sounded drunk and sad. I tried to ask what was happening, but you were too drunk to talk. You only mentioned Mark’s name, and I immediately knew what happened.”

“It was too late at night, and you promised you’d be here early this morning. That’s why you’re here,” I said, crying as the painful memories from yesterday came rushing back. I stretched for my bottle of vodka.

“Oh, you remember,” Val said, raising her head after packing and cleaning the room. She watched me take a continuous gulp of the remaining vodka, and she screamed as she rushed to my bed.

“Susan! Get a grip. You need to get a hold of yourself,” she said, snatching the bottle away in anger.

“He’s just a man! Another man. Why are you hurting yourself? I think you need closure, Susan. He didn’t lie to you, and he’s still open to the relationship. So if it hurts you so badly, end things and sulk once and for all.”

I gave her a stern look. She blinked and said, “Yes. Have you checked your phone?” She picked up my phone.

Val knows too much, including my passwords. She opened it and saw a lot of missed calls from Mark and several messages.

“He’s been calling and texting… I’ll read them.”

She read aloud, “Hey babe, you’re not picking up. I wanted us to talk more. Do you need more time? It was just sex. You’re still my girlfriend. Nothing’s changed from my end. Please call me when you can. I love you.”

The signs were there. Mark never believed in commitments. He always wanted an open relationship. He didn’t see a future for us—talk of a family—but I did. I ignored the signs, thinking he would love me enough to change. I was wrong.

“Oh, this is bad, Sus,” Val said. “I’m sorry, babe, but I think you need to move on. End things with this guy. He’s obviously not what you want, and he’s not changing. You keep hurting yourself. Values are different. They don’t align, so you have to let him go. You’ll get someone else, I promise.”

Val sat beside me, hugging me tightly as I cried on her shoulders.

“You’ll be fine, bestie,” she whispered. “Let me make you coffee. You need to get yourself together and rest. That’s what weekends are for. There’s almost no time to sulk. Monday will be here again in no time.”

She looked into my eyes, patted my head, and tried to smooth my hair. Then she stood and walked to the kitchen.

I lay in bed, thinking about how my life would be without Mark. At least he was sincere, I thought. As Val said, I would have to let him go. I couldn’t share my man with other women. I believe love should be guarded. Letting my two years of love, hope, and investment go away hurt so much—worse than I imagined—but I would be fine.

Val returned with coffee. “What are you doing, Sus? Just stay off your phone for now,” she said, pulling the phone away from me.

“Here you go,” she handed me the cup. “It’s hot. Sip it slowly. It’ll help you.”

“My phone, please,” I demanded.

“Why?” Val asked.

I sipped the coffee and groaned. “Arghh. This tastes awful.”

“You should finish it if you want those headaches gone,” Val said. “Plus, it’ll make you sleep. You need that too.”

“I need to send Mark a message,” I said. “I want to end things. I don’t want him showing up at my house or calling or texting. I need to end things.”

“And you have to do it now?” Val asked. “You should sleep and wake up and think straight.”

“I’ve walked this path before, and you know it,” I said. “Mark knows me. If I take more time, this relationship will continue. I’d rather do it now. That way, he knows I’m serious and things have changed.”

“You’re right, babe,” Val said, concerned in her eyes. “But are you sure about this? You’re hurting, and I can see it in your eyes.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said, taking a sip of coffee and stretching out my hand for my phone.

Val handed it to me. I set my cup on the desk beside the bed and typed a message to Mark.

Message: Our relationship is over. Don’t call or show up at my house again.

“Done,” I said, sending it.

Val hugged me tightly again.

She checked her phone. “11:46 a.m. Oh, Sus, I really have to go now. I need to do my laundry and clean up. I still have emails to respond to.”

“Alright, Val. Thank you for always being a friend,” I said, looking at her with gratitude.

“Anytime, Sus. Anytime,” she said, heading to the door.

“Please don’t forget to lock the door behind you,” I reminded.

“I won’t,” Val replied, her voice fading as she left.

I was alone again, with my pain and reality staring at me.

It’s a new beginning, Susan, I told myself. Mark is gone, but there’s a lot more ahead—work, dreams, and other men too. I chuckled as I imagined my life with the men who would come after Mark.

We’ll see how it goes, I said, smiling softly.

I finally made it past the day. I slept harder than Val explained and woke up with a feeling of giving life another chance.

I checked my phone. Nothing interesting—just Val checking up on me like she wasn’t the one who knocked me out. The day had passed, and I was tired of staying in bed. I got up. Thankfully, Val helped heat my pasta, which would have spoiled if she hadn’t. I popped it in the microwave, sat down to eat, and stared into thin air.

My mind raced through possibilities until it clicked: “It ended at the club. It could start at the club too.”

No, Susan. No clubs yet. You need to heal.

But I could heal at the club. There are many ways to heal, I argued with myself. Eventually, I decided.

I took a shower, went to my closet, and pulled out a red-hot revealing gown Val had bought me before I met Mark.

She said the gown screamed danger and could hide my subtle heart. For the first time, that gown felt like a perfect plan.

I called a cab because I didn’t want to drive. I chose a different club—one for executives, intense-looking, and one I’d sworn never to enter. I dared this time.