fireplace; the only other pieces
of furniture in the place were a small dining table and two chairs. The
“kitchen” was a nothing but a six foot laminated counter that took up one wall
with a stove and fridge at either end.
I walked over to
the only interior door to find, with some relief, that the queen bed at least
looked clean, the covers apparently freshly laundered. The headboard was made
from old pallets and was stained a dark color, lending the room a small amount
of style.
I sat on the bed,
pulled out my cell phone, and called my best friend. “Anna,” I said as soon as
she picked up. “What have I done?”
Anna’s tinkling
laugh filtered through the line. “Told you to look at the pictures before
renting it!” she said with too much glee. “How bad is it?”
“It’s pretty bad.
There’s no TV, no radio. There are a few books on the side table of the bed,
but that’s it for entertainment.”
“So why did you
go again?”
I sighed. “You
know why.”
“Yeah,” she said
softly. She knew more than anyone how much I’d been hurting the past month.
“I just… I need
this week to myself, to get away from Atlanta. I can’t be there while he has
his stupid annual Halloween party with his new girlfriend.” I fell back onto
the bed, staring up at the exposed beams criss-crossing over the ceiling, trying hard to push away the memories of my ex-boyfriend
Ethan and not altogether succeeding. “We were together for almost three years,
but he replaced me in less than a week.”
Anna sighed. “But
going up to North Carolina to a tiny town we’ve never heard of, roughing it in
some cabin… isn’t that a little like cutting off your nose to spite your face?”
she asked. “Because let’s face it, the Ritz-Carlton is more your speed.”
I glanced again
at the log walls and the thick lines of concrete holding them together, trying
to convince myself that I could last seven days in this place. “I want to prove
to Ethan that I’m not as high-maintenance as he claims,” I said. It was only
one of the three reasons why he’d said he couldn’t be with me anymore.
Anna tsked . “I still can’t believe Mr. Metrosexual himself said
that. Remember that time it took him two hours to get ready for that
fundraising gala you organized?”
A rueful smile
pulled at my lips, but any joy in that memory was now tainted by what he’d told
me the night we broke up.
“You’re a lot of work, Chloe. It’s so
exhausting being around you. You’re too much of a perfectionist.”
“I’m not—”
I’d started to
say I wasn’t like that, but we both knew I was persnickety about some things.
Okay, maybe a lot of things. And maybe I was a bit spoiled, having grown up in
a wealthy family, but that wasn’t really my fault. But I wasn’t beyond help,
and the purpose of this week was to prove I could be spontaneous and carefree.
Now all I had to
do was survive the next seven days in this almost-empty cabin and try not to
lose my mind.
“Hey, you still
there?” Anna asked.
I blinked,
clearing my thoughts. “Yeah, sorry.”
“You’re not
thinking about trying to get Ethan back, are you?”
I bit my lower lip.
Did I want him back? “Maybe,” I said on a sigh. “I don’t know.”
“Chloe…” The
disappointment in Anna’s voice was so pronounced I found myself cringing.
As a twenty-seven
year old woman, I knew I shouldn’t want him back. I should just say “good riddance” and move on to someone who
would appreciate everything about me. But Ethan and I had been together for
almost three years, and I’d loved him longer than that—letting go was not
going to happen overnight.
“Hey Anna, I’d
better go,” I said in place of a real answer. The woman had known me nearly my
entire life. She really didn’t need to hear the words to know the answer
anyway.
“Me too. I need
to do my rounds,” she said. “Be careful out there, okay? Lock the doors and
windows, all that stuff.”
“Yes,
of furniture in the place were a small dining table and two chairs. The
“kitchen” was a nothing but a six foot laminated counter that took up one wall
with a stove and fridge at either end.
I walked over to
the only interior door to find, with some relief, that the queen bed at least
looked clean, the covers apparently freshly laundered. The headboard was made
from old pallets and was stained a dark color, lending the room a small amount
of style.
I sat on the bed,
pulled out my cell phone, and called my best friend. “Anna,” I said as soon as
she picked up. “What have I done?”
Anna’s tinkling
laugh filtered through the line. “Told you to look at the pictures before
renting it!” she said with too much glee. “How bad is it?”
“It’s pretty bad.
There’s no TV, no radio. There are a few books on the side table of the bed,
but that’s it for entertainment.”
“So why did you
go again?”
I sighed. “You
know why.”
“Yeah,” she said
softly. She knew more than anyone how much I’d been hurting the past month.
“I just… I need
this week to myself, to get away from Atlanta. I can’t be there while he has
his stupid annual Halloween party with his new girlfriend.” I fell back onto
the bed, staring up at the exposed beams criss-crossing over the ceiling, trying hard to push away the memories of my ex-boyfriend
Ethan and not altogether succeeding. “We were together for almost three years,
but he replaced me in less than a week.”
Anna sighed. “But
going up to North Carolina to a tiny town we’ve never heard of, roughing it in
some cabin… isn’t that a little like cutting off your nose to spite your face?”
she asked. “Because let’s face it, the Ritz-Carlton is more your speed.”
I glanced again
at the log walls and the thick lines of concrete holding them together, trying
to convince myself that I could last seven days in this place. “I want to prove
to Ethan that I’m not as high-maintenance as he claims,” I said. It was only
one of the three reasons why he’d said he couldn’t be with me anymore.
Anna tsked . “I still can’t believe Mr. Metrosexual himself said
that. Remember that time it took him two hours to get ready for that
fundraising gala you organized?”
A rueful smile
pulled at my lips, but any joy in that memory was now tainted by what he’d told
me the night we broke up.
“You’re a lot of work, Chloe. It’s so
exhausting being around you. You’re too much of a perfectionist.”
“I’m not—”
I’d started to
say I wasn’t like that, but we both knew I was persnickety about some things.
Okay, maybe a lot of things. And maybe I was a bit spoiled, having grown up in
a wealthy family, but that wasn’t really my fault. But I wasn’t beyond help,
and the purpose of this week was to prove I could be spontaneous and carefree.
Now all I had to
do was survive the next seven days in this almost-empty cabin and try not to
lose my mind.
“Hey, you still
there?” Anna asked.
I blinked,
clearing my thoughts. “Yeah, sorry.”
“You’re not
thinking about trying to get Ethan back, are you?”
I bit my lower lip.
Did I want him back? “Maybe,” I said on a sigh. “I don’t know.”
“Chloe…” The
disappointment in Anna’s voice was so pronounced I found myself cringing.
As a twenty-seven
year old woman, I knew I shouldn’t want him back. I should just say “good riddance” and move on to someone who
would appreciate everything about me. But Ethan and I had been together for
almost three years, and I’d loved him longer than that—letting go was not
going to happen overnight.
“Hey Anna, I’d
better go,” I said in place of a real answer. The woman had known me nearly my
entire life. She really didn’t need to hear the words to know the answer
anyway.
“Me too. I need
to do my rounds,” she said. “Be careful out there, okay? Lock the doors and
windows, all that stuff.”
“Yes,
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