He Thought I Was Being Good, I Was Just Getting Ready to leave Chapter 08

The night of Derek’s birthday, I didn’t show up.

Harrison didn’t call me either, but Derek called me late that night.

“Ella, that’s not cool. You can fight all you want, but missing my birthday? Come on.”

He sounded drunk. Very drunk.

“Get over yourself already. You’re not really going to break up with him, are you?”

“You think you can walk away? Please. Don’t make me be the one who has to call him for you again.”

“You know what he’s like. The only reason you lasted five years is because you’re sweet and easygoing. Think about it, of all those women, why were you the one who stayed?”

I was still working late. I smiled faintly, said “Happy birthday,” and hung up.

The next day, I sat in a coffee shop across from a man who wouldn’t stop talking.

I studied him, decent-looking, clean-cut, with fair skin.

“So I heard you make about fifteen or sixteen hundred a month?” He said it like he was doing math in his head. “Still, private sector work isn’t as stable as what I’ve got in government.”

I took a sip of my coffee. Actually, I made two thousand two hundred a month after taxes, plus quarterly bonuses.

But Harrison always called it a crap job, saying a month of my work couldn’t even cover one of his meals.

I didn’t say anything. The man across from me kept going.

“But your job has a lot of overtime, right? Eventually, someone has to be home taking care of things. Have you thought about switching careers?”

I set my cup down and said flatly, “I’d want my kids to have my last name. Would that be a problem for you? I’m an only child. My family name can’t die out.”

He looked stunned. “Your mom never mentioned that. I’m an only child too. I mean, maybe we could have two…”

I suddenly felt how absurd this whole thing was. If Harrison could see me now, he’d laugh.

He’d tell me that without him, all I could find were broken, second-rate men.

I made an excuse about work and tried to leave. The man tried to stop me. “I really like you. The kid thing, we can talk about that later…”

I looked at him again and realized he suddenly seemed ugly to me, mean, even.

I bombed the date. My mom called before I even made it out of the parking lot.

“What’s wrong with you? Bringing up the kid thing right away like that?”

“When did I ever say the baby had to have our last name?”

I didn’t have time to calm her down. I told her I was busy and hung up.

I didn’t even get to process the mess that was my love life. I had to turn around and leave town for a work trip.