Chapter 1: Come Over
For years, I’ve had a thing for my friend Carly.
Calling it a thing probably doesn’t do it justice. I’ve had feelings for her for longer than I care to admit. I’m twenty-five now, and somewhere along the way, I realized you can’t spend your entire life waiting for someone—even someone you care deeply about.
So I stopped waiting.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
Carly and I have been friends for almost ten years. There have been moments when I thought we could be something more. Moments when I almost told her exactly how I felt. But every time we got close, life seemed to get in the way.
Eventually, being her friend became more important than risking losing her altogether.
My dating life since then hasn’t exactly been impressive. I’ve dated on and off, but nothing has lasted. After my longest relationship fell apart, committing to someone became harder than it used to be.
Which made Carly’s phone call this morning even stranger.
She told me to come over.
Apparently, it was important.
I hadn’t talked to her much lately. Not intentionally. Work had been crazy, life had gotten busy, and somehow a few days without talking turned into a couple of weeks.
Part of me hoped today might finally be the day we talked about us.
My phone rang as I turned onto her street.
“Hey, Seth. You almost here?”
“Yeah. What’s so urgent?”
“We have a lot to discuss.”
“Okay?”
That didn’t sound ominous at all.
When I pulled up to her house, there were several cars parked outside.
None of them looked familiar.
Strange.
Carly opened the door before I even knocked.
“Hey, Seth.”
“So, what’s up?”
“First, could you close your eyes?”
I stared at her.
“Why?”
“Just trust me.”
“Is this some kind of birthday surprise? Because you’re about three months late.”
“No. Nothing like that.”
That should have been my first warning.
I closed my eyes.
Carly took my arm and guided me through the house.
“Keep them closed.”
“They’re closed.”
She positioned me in front of what felt like a cushioned folding chair.
“Sit.”
“Carly, should I be concerned?”
“Probably.”
“Wonderful.”
I sat down.
“You can open your eyes.”
I did.
Then immediately wished I hadn’t.
Sitting across from me were four women.
Four women I knew very well.
Cadence.
Janelle.
Mandy.
Mary.
Four relationships.
Four different endings.
Four ex-girlfriends sitting in Carly’s living room.
“Holy shit.”
Carly smiled nervously.
“Surprise?”
I looked at her.
“Carly, why are four of my ex-girlfriends sitting in your living room?”
“Well…”
“That is never a good way to start an explanation.”
She sat across from me.
“You’re one of my best friends, Seth. I’ve known you for almost ten years. I know the person you are, and I’ve never understood why none of your relationships worked.”
“You gathered my ex-girlfriends together to investigate my dating history?”
“When you say it like that, it sounds insane.”
“It is insane.”
Cadence laughed.
At least someone was enjoying this.
Carly continued.
“You barely date anymore. And when you do, you never let anyone get close. I thought maybe if we talked about what happened—really talked about it—you might understand why.”
“This is bullshit. I don’t want to do this.”
“Please.”
I looked around the room.
Four women from four completely different periods of my life were staring back at me.
Some smiling.
Some uncomfortable.
One I could barely look at.
Carly leaned forward.
“They’re not here to attack you. They agreed because maybe there are things they never got to say either.”
I sighed.
“And knowing you,” she added, “you probably remember everything.”
Unfortunately, she was right.
“Fine.”
I leaned back.
“I assume you want chronological order?”
“That would be nice.”
I looked at the four women.
“Before we start, I want to say something. If I ever hurt any of you—or made you think differently about me because of something I did—I’m sorry.”
Nobody spoke.
I took a breath.
“So…the first girl was…”
