The Ex by Freida McFadden(7)

Okay, it’s not entirely fortuitous that I’m running into Joel while looking my best. The truth is, about two years ago, Joel got sick of me texting him whether he’d left the hospital yet, so he installed an app on my phone called WhereAmI. This app allowed me to locate him anywhere he goes via GPS with startling accuracy. If he goes into a Starbucks, it can even tell me which one.

I had assumed when Joel broke up with me, he’d have turned off WhereAmI on his own phone. But he hasn’t. I can only assume he’s forgotten all about it, because I’m still receiving minute-to-minute updates about his whereabouts.

I should delete the app. I definitely should. It’s not healthy to be tracking my ex-boyfriend around the city. I’m no psychologist, but I know that much.

I’ll delete it. Soon.

As casually as I can, I get on the Starbucks line. I don’t look in Joel’s direction and pretend I don’t even know he exists. When it’s my turn, I order my usual: a vanilla latte. Then I take out my phone as I wait for my drink to be made.

Don’t look in his direction. Pretend he isn’t even here. He will come to you if he wants to talk to you.

“Hey…”

I glance up from my phone, and sure enough, he’s gotten up from his seat and he’s standing in front of me. And God, he looks so good. He didn’t engineer this meeting—how does he manage to look so great? I lower my phone and throw my shoulders back, reminding myself he saw the photo of me dressed to the nines last night and “liked” what he saw. And as his eyes sweep over me briefly, I can tell he likes what he sees yet again.

“Hey!” I flash an easy smile. Easy, breezy. “How are you? It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“I’m good.” He rakes a hand through his dark hair. Are those slight purple circles under his blue eyes? Maybe he’s not doing as well as I’d thought. “But you… you look great.”

I check his tone for pity, and there’s none. He means it. “Thanks. I’ve been… pretty busy. You know, work… life…” Television… ice cream… alcohol…

“I can see that…” He manages a crooked smile. “Actually, I’m really glad I ran into you.”

My heart speeds up in my chest. This is the third time we’ve “accidentally” run into each other since the breakup five months ago, but this is the first time he’s been interested in anything more than an awkward hello.

“What’s up?” I say.

“Well, listen…” He shifts between his feet. “I know your situation and all that, but… I really… I can’t…”

“Yes?” I can’t live without you. I want you back.

“I can’t afford to keep paying two rents,” he finishes. The second the words are out of his mouth, he drops his eyes. “I know your financial situation, but… between that and my loan payments, I’m digging into my savings. I can’t… I mean, it’s been almost six months.” He takes a deep breath. “This is the last month I can pay. I’m sorry.”

My stomach sinks. He doesn’t want me back. He’s just sick of bankrolling our old apartment.

To be fair, I can’t blame him. Our apartment wasn’t cheap—nothing in Manhattan is—but it’s hard for me to give it up. Everything about it reminds me of Joel, and giving it up would be like admitting we’ll never get back together. That it’s finally over for good.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. He’s looking at his sneakers, which are a shade on the grayscale, with one dark splotch that may or may not be blood. “I didn’t want to yank the rug out from under you, but… well, like I said, it’s been almost six months.”

I swallow a large lump in my throat. Joel has no idea how bad my financial situation really is, although even if he did, he still wouldn’t agree to keep paying indefinitely. “No, of course. It’s understandable. I… I’ve actually found a new place.”

I don’t know how I got to be such a liar. I always considered myself an extremely truthful person.

“Really?” For the first time since I walked in here, a genuine smile lights Joel’s face. “That’s great!”

I nod. “It’s downtown, in the village. Really cute and bohemian.”

“Well, congratulations.” He looks like he’s about to reach out and touch my shoulder, but at the last moment pulls back. “I’ll have to… well, if you have a housewarming party, maybe I’ll…”

I lift my chin. “Yeah, maybe I’ll send out a Facebook invite. You’re welcome to come.”

Fantastic. Now I’m inviting him to a housewarming party for an apartment I don’t have.

“It’s really great seeing you,” Joel says, glancing back at his seat with his Caffe Mocha growing cold on the table. “So… uh, I guess… I’ll see you around?”

It takes all my willpower to force a smile onto my lips. “Absolutely. Great seeing you too.”

I watch him hurry back to his seat. I stand there in his wake, taking deep, calming breaths. It’s not over. Just because I’m giving up the apartment, it doesn’t mean I’ve lost. I can still save this.