“Oh, God, yes, right there,” I said, facing the bathroom wall before my face scraped it again.
Jesus. I don’t even know his name. Ugh, who cares? It’s just for a few minutes to bang all the frustration out of me. It’s been a hell of a year, to say the least. I really needed this—a stranger to stick it into me for one night to make me feel alive again. God knows it’s been a long time since I felt anything.
To be honest, I felt even more dead inside ever since Louis cheated. That bastard. He had to ruin everything. We had such a great thing going. I was going to be Mrs Louis Barnard. We were going to move to Spain and live by the sea. My fairytale was going to come true.
But my whore-of-a-best-girlfriend couldn’t keep her legs closed for just one man. No, she had to bang my fiance as well.
I so badly wanna blame only her, but he was just as guilty. My desire to live my fairytale made me question if Louis was even guilty. I justified his actions with my ex-girlfriend’s promiscuity, but it takes two to tango.
The wedding was supposed to be the thing that helped me to deal with Mom’s passing. She was diagnosed with cancer five years ago and passed away two months before I found out about Louis and that bitch. I miss her so much. She liked Louis and told me that he was a good man. Can’t blame her for being wrong because that’s what I thought too.
Then to top it all off, I got laid off two months before Christmas. At the time, I was confused. Everything seemed to be going well with the company. It was expanding, and my boss had even hired a few people. But the truth eventually came out.
My company was reducing expenses by getting rid of some of the staff that were there for a few years. They did it before Christmas to avoid paying 13th cheques and bonuses. And the new staff were replacements, but much cheaper ones.
Now do you understand why I’m 38 years old and in the bathroom stall at a rave being banged from behind? I know it’s not a good look, but give me a break.
I was supposed to be in Spain with my husband-to-be, and now, I’m getting stuffed like a turkey at Thanksgiving. This guy keeps breathing heavily. It’s almost like he’s struggling to inhale oxygen, but I guess he’s just really horny. I should be too, but all I can think about is everything that happened this year.
So now that I’m completely confused about everything and I don’t even know what the future holds, what would I say to my younger self? Hmmm. That’s a good question, actually.
I’d say, be grateful for every day and never take anything or anyone for granted because you never know when you’ll lose them or the thing you really love. God knows I’ve lost so much this year. If only Mom hadn’t passed away. I could, somehow, deal with everything else but not her passing. She was the best. Miss you, Mom.
“Five, four, three, two, one. Happy New Year,” I hear the crowd shout.
Yeah, let’s see if it’s going to be a happy year. Well, it can’t get any worse. I’ve lost the two most important people in the world to me. I close my eyes and lower my chin. Reminding myself of that still hits me hard every time. It sucks, but what can I do?
I just realised: when you’ve lost the things you consider the most important, you’ve got nothing else to lose. You’ve hit rock bottom, and it can’t get any worse. It’s all the way up from here. That’s one way to look at it, I guess.
I’m going to be positive that everything is going to work out. I smile as I say to myself, 2024 is going to be the best year of my life.
This guy, what’s his face? grabs my wrists and raises my arms about my head on the wall. My hands are pressed on the wall, and he says, “Oh, God, I’m gonna cum.”
He does cum…inside of me.
Oh, no. That wasn’t supposed to happen. No condom. I’m not on the pill, and I’m ovulating. Holy crap, NO! How could I be so stupid?
I exhale a deep breath. Just calm down, Lindsey. I’m sure everything is going to be fine.
Yeah, right. With my luck, I wouldn’t be surprised if I have twins with some drunk guy I met just a few minutes ago at the bar.
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