Chapter 4

A week after the disastrous dinner, a mutual friend, Jenna, called.

"Hey, Sarah. Some of us are meeting at O'Malley's tonight. For drinks. Mark might be there. Maybe you guys can talk things out properly?"

Mediation. Great.

I almost said no, but a part of me, the part that needed absolute certainty, agreed.

O'Malley's was crowded. I saw Jenna waving from a large table in the back.

Mark was there, surrounded by some of his old college buddies. Chloe wasn't, surprisingly.

I sat down, and Jenna launched into a cheerful, forced conversation about work.

I wasn't really listening.

My attention was snagged by the conversation at Mark's end of the table.

His friends were laughing, reminiscing.

"Remember how obsessed you were with Chloe, man?" one of them, Dave, said loudly. "Senior year, you were a wreck."

Mark chuckled, a strained sound. "Ancient history, guys."

"Nah, seriously," another one, Kevin, chimed in. "You were *this* close to asking her out before she took off for Berkeley. You had the whole speech planned."

Berkeley. Chloe had gone to an out-of-state university.

And that was right around the time Mark had suddenly, surprisingly, accepted my long-standing offer for a date.

I'd had a crush on him for two years in college, made it pretty obvious. He'd always been friendly but distant.

Then, just as Chloe left, he'd said yes.

The pieces clicked into place, sharp and ugly.

I wasn't just a second choice. I was a placeholder. A consolation prize.

The realization hit me with physical force, stealing my breath.

I stood up, my chair scraping loudly.

All eyes turned to me.

I walked over to Mark.

He looked up, a questioning smile on his face. It faltered when he saw my expression.

"Sarah? You okay?"

"Was I your backup plan, Mark?" I asked, my voice dangerously quiet.

His face paled. "What are you talking about?"

"Chloe. You were in love with Chloe. You only started dating me after she left for college."

His friends went silent, suddenly very interested in their drinks.

"That's ridiculous," Mark said, but his eyes darted away.

"Is it?" I picked up his beer. "All this time, I thought you were just emotionally constipated. But you're not. You just never loved me."

And then, I did something I'd only ever seen in movies.

I threw the beer in his face.

It wasn't a big splash, but it was enough.

He sputtered, beer dripping from his hair.

"We are done," I said, enunciating each word. "And this time, it's for good. You don't have a clue what love is."

I turned and walked out, Jenna calling after me, but I didn't stop.

Liberation felt cold, but clean.