Work sucked the next day, thanks to the holiday rush. Everyone flooded Starbucks for their seasonal drinks around the holidays, and I swear I made more eggnog lattes today than I thought were humanly possible to consume. Not being a fan of eggnog, I definitely didn't understand the appeal, so I snagged a venti peppermint latte on my way out of work instead.

The peppermint cheered me up, as did the full ten hours of sleep I got last night. Val didn't hit me with questions when I walked in the apartment, face red from the cold and from tears, and I was grateful for that. I would tell her what I could when I was ready, and - for the time being - I needed to process everything. I'd just made the decision to do what I needed to get my life together, which meant I didn't want to rush it by pushing too hard too fast.

Instead, I threw out all of the half-empty bottles of alcohol I was hoarding in the kitchen, took a long shower, and curled up in bed with a mug of chamomile tea before 8PM. My earbuds popped into my ears, I spent the evening reintroducing myself to the best form of therapy I'd ever discovered: music.

I fell asleep listening to Ludovico Einaudi's I Giorni, which I considered to be one of the most beautiful albums in human history, so I woke up feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. Yesterday's run-in with Andrew had been insanely difficult, especially tell him goodbye and walking away, but I knew that I had done the right thing. For both of us.

Truthfully, I was in no condition to spill all of my problems to Andrew. I needed to save myself, because - quite frankly - he couldn't do it for me.

Even if we never ended up together, I wanted Andrew to be happy, and that meant he needed to let me go. He was in a relationship with Danielle, a happy one - if the magazines were telling the truth - which meant he needed to focus on her. We both needed a clean break so we could heal.

After all, who knows what the future holds?

Sipping on my latte, I gladly took the empty seat I scored on the subway home. My earbuds were already in my ears with another Ludovico Einaudi album on repeat, so I relaxed and leaned my head back on the cushion.

I had a lot of work to do over the next few months, but I was ready to do what was necessary to fix the holes in this sinking ship before it sunk to the bottom of the Atlantic. I asked Peter for a meeting at work, explaining to him that I had some personal problems interfere with my work, but I was determined to turn over a new leaf. I apologized profusely for being a shitty employee, but he laughed and reassured me that everything would be okay.

With that over, my next step involved finding enough scholarships to go back to school in January. I'd already been accepted into the program at CUNY, but I needed to have the funds to start once the semester rolled around. The Starbucks tuition reimbursement helped, as did my savings, but it wasn't enough. I needed $6000 a year for tuition, but I only had half that. I needed a scholarship, or several, if I was going to make it work - especially since I had two and a half years left of my undergraduate studies.

I hadn't gotten any of the scholarships I'd applied to thus far, plus I'd forgotten to apply to several over the last six months, but I wasn't ready to give up. I had a meeting scheduled next week with the financial aid office to determine my options, and I hoped we'd be able to figure something out.

I texted my sister before bed too, apologizing for dropping off the face of the earth, but I wasn't ready to dive into that mess yet. First, I needed to deal with my issues here before I could be remotely ready to face the problems I ran away from back home. AKA, the things that came back to bite me in the ass.

The train arrived at my stop, so I hopped out of my seat and exited the station. The temperature dropped today, plunging below thirty-five degrees Fahrenheit, so I took another sip of my peppermint latte to warm me up. Now that it was cold outside, Val and I both took our thermoses with us to work to keep our coffee hot on the commute home from work. She taught me the trick on a particularly cold morning a few weeks ago, and I was still thanking her internally for the blessing that is hot coffee that actually stayed hot.

Turning onto Flatbush, I smiled as "Le Onde" started playing on Spotify - my absolute favorite piece by Einaudi - and headed toward the apartment. Val had the day off today, and I promised her that we would do a roommate night tonight with pizza from our favorite pizzeria and rewatching The Lego Movie.

Unfortunately, however, a petite brunette called out my name as I neared the gate to our apartment complex. Danielle stood in front of me, immaculately dressed in an oversized camel coat, an off-white sweater, and blue skinny jeans, with her brown hair perfectly curled. She looked fantastic, without a hair out of place, but her features were twisted into a look of disgust.

"What were you doing in Manhattan yesterday?"

Her words were clipped, and an undercurrent of venom was evident. I took a deep breath, steeling myself to the inevitable argument, and shrugged. This confrontation sure as hell wasn't going to be fun, I could tell that much.

"Walking? I needed to get out of the apartment," I admitted truthfully.

She sneered, "So you called him? Decided to meet up?"

"I didn't know I would run into him, Danielle," I answered. "I haven't seen him for months, and we talked for less than five minutes."

Danielle frowned, looking up and down as she clearly judged my disheveled work appearance. I was wearing my favorite pair of black skinny jeans, a comfortable navy sweater, and a large camel coat similar to hers. Instead of a purse, I gripped my coffee cup and stared back at her. Everything about our outfits was similar, something Danielle probably acknowledged, but while mine screamed 'worn-in,' hers was obviously all designer. Her hair was worn in perfectly tousled curls that tumbled around her shoulders, and - if it weren't from the expression on her face - I would've thought she looked pretty.

"He's my boyfriend, Cait. Not yours. You ruined that when you got drunk and made out with one of his best friends," Danielle hissed at me, clutching her Chloé handbag to her shoulder. "Stay the hell away from Lincoln."

I sighed, "So I have to avoid the entire island of Manhattan now, too?"

"Excuse me?" She took a step forward, and I instantly regretted my sarcasm.

Clearly something happened between her and Andrew last night, and - whatever it was - it couldn't be good for her to lash out at me like this. I didn't want to piss her off, especially when I was finally getting everything sorted out, so I mumbled an apology to placate her.

I couldn't help but notice that she called him Lincoln, however, which sent a sliver of joy through me. No one wanted to be accosted by a jealous girlfriend after a long day at work, especially when nothing actually happened, but I couldn't help but be pleased that he hadn't told her his real name. Even if nothing happened between the two of us in the future, I would always know that Andrew told me his real name immediately but hadn't told her after six months of dating.

Call me petty, but I still felt a tiny bit satisfied.

"Don't push me, Cait," Danielle threatened, not satisfied with my weak apology. "I won't--"

"I'm sorry," I repeated quickly, interrupting her. "Nothing happened, Danielle. I swear."

She narrowed her eyes at me, as if trying to decide if she believed me or not. Whatever Andrew told her, she must have read into it and - instead of blaming him - decided to lash out at me. I refused to be the other woman, however, so I didn't hesitate to make that obvious. Biting my tongue from letting one of the several snide remarks floating in my head from slipping out, I watched as she adjusted her handbag on her shoulder before brushing a piece of immaculately curled hair out of her eyes.

"Don't forget our little agreement, bitch," she spat at me. "I will make your life a living hell. Or, should I say, your family's lives."

*explodes*

PS. I want all of the comments + votes. Ever.

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