Free Lucky: A Love Lane Short by Olivia Thomas Page A

a defeated
groan and drop my head on the table.
    While it feels good to get
out all my frustrations, loneliness, and self -defeat, I still feel
horrible and want that damn chocolate bar. Only after I am done
purging do I realize we’re sitting in the small kitchen that is
open to all employees. God, I hope no one else witnessed my
meltdown. The last thing I need is people in the office talking
about me.
    “ Who’s the whore?” Mindy
asks in true friend fashion.
    I can’t help it. I begin to
laugh. Full belly laughs, complete with tears begin to spill out of
me, although the tears could just be left over from my pity party.
Still, while I appreciate the sentiment from Mindy, I quickly
correct her.
    “ Braydon swears he didn’t
cheat on me, and for the most part, I believe him about the sex
part. I’m not stupid, though. I’ve seen what Candy looks like, and
I know how Braydon’s mind works, so I am pretty sure the two of
them have been physical in other ways.”
    “ Candy? Are you serious? Is
she a stripper?” Mindy asks with an excited wide smile.
    “ Right! That was my first
thought too but she actually works at the bar, fully clothed, with
Braydon.”
    “ Whatever, I still don’t
like her,” Mindy says putting an end to talk about Candy and
turning serious. “You need to listen to me, Kate and listen good.
Your life has not been a waste. You have a successful career in
advertising, an amazing best friend who loves you, and a supportive
family. All of those late nights and extra work have put you on the
track to be a superstar in this industry, so don’t ever devalue your hard
work. Everyone goes through this at one point or another. As for
Braydon, it sucks that he gave up, and yeah, maybe you did, too,
but doesn’t that tell you something? Like maybe there is more out
there for you than each other?”
    I know she is right. I have
been having this same conversation in my head for days now, ever
since Braydon sat me down and told me it was over. I honestly can’t
blame him. We grew apart, and he found someone else. That’s life—it
happens—but man, does it suck.
    Braydon and I had some great
times in the beginning. Meeting just after I graduated from NYU, we
fell for each other quickly. He was the sexy bouncer at the local
bar with aspirations to one day own his own pub, and I was the
naive new graduate, living on my own for the first time and
thinking life was going to be one long episode of Sex in the City.
I was trying to act out every adult fantasy I’d ever
had.
    There was no courting or
butterflies in your stomach with Braydon and I; it was more of a
Mack truck of lust directed right between my legs. We tumbled into
bed after only exchanging a few words, and it was months before we
came up for air. The sex was amazing; we couldn’t keep our hands
and mouths off each other. We fooled around everywhere, without
regard to who may walk in on us: in the bathroom of his bar, the
elevator in my apartment building, parked in his car on the side of
the street. It was a free for all, and we reveled in it. We fucked
and fucked and fucked some more until we were sweaty and sticky and
completely spent. But after coming down off the high of our
combined orgasms we had very little to say to each other. As much
as I wanted and as much as we tried, you can’t build a relationship
on sex alone.
    I knew back then that, once
the sex started to taper off, the chances of Braydon and I riding
it out for the long haul were slim to none. We had very little in
common and were practically strangers outside of the bedroom, but
when he asked me to move in, I stupidly said yes, thinking we would
grow more alike with time. I wasn’t taking my future into
consideration. I simply wanted the freedom to be under Braydon each
night. Also, if I am being honest with myself, I may have also said
yes out of fear of being alone. I became comfortable and complacent
in our pseudo relationship.
    Three years later, the
extent of our