Twisted Hate: An Enemies with Benefits Romance

Did you really think so little of me that you thought I’d judge you for
things you were manipulated into doing? That I wouldn’t have been on your
side and took that fucker down with you?
I closed my eyes, wishing with everything in me that I could turn back
time and redo all my decisions regarding Max.
I was supposed to be a lawyer. Logical, reasonable, strategic. But when it
came to Max and Josh, I’d been anything but.
How had I fucked up my own life so badly?
I opened my eyes again, not wanting to spend too long in my thoughts.
They would just torture me.
Instead, I watched the metro stops pass by with a detached awareness.

---

Tenleytown. Van Ness. Cleveland Park. Adams Morgan/Woodley Park.
By the time I reached my stop and made the short trek from the station to
The Mirage, my sobs had given way to a cold numbness.
I walked through the dark, silent apartment, my steps unnaturally loud
against the hardwood floors. Stella wasn’t home, so I didn’t have to field
questions about why I looked like such a hot mess.
All I wanted was to sleep the night away, but I managed to take a quick
shower before I climbed into bed. My movements were stiff and mechanical,
like I wasn’t truly there.
I wish I weren’t.
Despite the exhaustion pulling at my eyes, I couldn’t fall asleep, so I just
stared at the ceiling and listened to the silence.
Maybe it was my imagination, but a whiff of Josh’s cologne from the last
time he slept over lingered. If I closed my eyes, I could almost pretend he
was there, his face buried in my neck and his strong body cradling mine.
You know, you’re the first guy I’ve been with in my room.
First and last, Red.
Possessive much?
Damn right I am. I don’t like sharing.
Sharing is a virtue, Josh.
I don’t give a flying fuck. I don’t share. Not when it comes to you.
Something warm and wet trickled down my cheek. Its saltiness teased my
lips, and I realized I was crying again.
Unlike my earlier sobs, these tears didn’t make a sound. They were quiet
screams trapped in my chest, burrowing into my bones and suffocating me.
I didn’t bother wiping them away. I just lay there, staring into the
darkness and letting it eat me alive.

---

48

---

JULES
T
HE
ONLY
GOOD
THING
ABOUT
MY
BREAKUP
WITH
J
OSH
WAS
THAT
IT
GAVE
ME
more time and motivation to study for the bar. I was motivated before, but
there was no push greater than the need to distract from a broken heart.
I took the next week off from the clinic and used it for one last prep
marathon.
Wake up at seven a.m.
Eat breakfast and shower.
Video lectures and notes until noon.
Lunch and a short break.
Assignments and practice essays.
Dinner and another break.
Practice MBE (Multistate Bar Examination) questions.
Sleep.
I stuck to the same schedule every day, afraid that if I deviated, I would
fall into a dark hole I couldn’t claw my way out of.
Structure was good. Structure kept me from having to make decisions or
think about anything other than what the next item in my to-do list was.
Of course, that only lasted until I actually took the bar exam. After that…
I stared at the sheet of paper before me.
A husband and wife decided to start a bike shop with the wife’s brother.
They filed a certificate of organization to form a limited liability company…
rented a storefront commercial space…signed contract to purchase 150 bike
tires…
I blinked and shook my head before re-reading the setup more carefully.
A migraine crept behind my temples, but I was almost at the finish line.

---

After six hours of testing, this was my last question—for the first day,
anyway. I still had the multiple-choice exam tomorrow, but I’d worry about
that then.
The scratch of my pencil filled my ears as I scribbled my notes down
before typing my final responses into the computer.