Begin Again

chapter four

I AM A mess, an absolute mess.

My mascara is clumped around my eyes, and I keep having to sniff away the mucus running from my nose, but as much as I hate the fact that I'm crying the hardest I've probably ever cried over a relationship, I know that it's for the best.

Currently sitting on my bedroom floor, I've taken a break from looking through a plethora of internship applications to finally clear out and get rid of a bunch of the things I still have floating around my room that remind me of Sebastian. I keep a box under my bed of every significant memory we've shared throughout our relationship. From the receipt to the ice cream shop we went to on our first date to a bunch of letters Sebastian used to write for me, they are all just sitting there, reminding me of a time when I had been happy with him.

I didn't think it would be this hard. But it only seems to remind me of everything that I've lost. Rubbing my eyes, I let out a shaky breath, pushing the box away with my foot.

"Fuck this," I mumble, scrambling to my feet in a rush. If I'm going to get through the rest of tonight, I need some wine. Not even bothering to check myself in the mirror, I throw open my bedroom door, stomping out into the kitchen area, only to be stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of Talia and Miles conversing at the kitchen table. I forgot that they would be working on their interview project here; maybe if I had, I could've at least tried to look more presentable.

It's been a week since our bar outing at Lucky Strike. Looking back, it was probably the last good night I'd had. We'd all gotten significantly drunk, sharing embarrassing stories and laughing our asses off. Wesley and Nick were great company; by the night's end, we'd all promised that this wouldn't be the last night out for all of us.

Miles had even pulled me aside before I'd hopped into the Uber, asking for my phone as I'd watched him type out his number, saying that I should shoot him a text sometime.

Safe to say, I haven't shot him any text.

"What happened to your face?" Talia demands. My cheeks were warm, walking swiftly around into the kitchen. I can feel both of their eyes on me as I rummage around in the fridge for the bottle of Barefoot Pink Moscato we have. "Evie?"

I sigh, pulling the wine out and turning to see Talia staring at me, concern swirling in her eyes. "I'm fine, Tal."

"You look like you've been crying," she informs me before turning to look at Miles. "Doesn't she?"

His lips thin out as he looks between Talia and me. He can tell that I want to escape back to my room with this bottle and chug it. At least, that's what I think when he shakes his head. "I don't see it." I give him a grateful look, causing him to quirk his lips in return.

Talia huffs, pointing at the Moscato. "Save some of that for me, please."

I wink at her, walking back out of the kitchen and almost returning to my room until I hear Miles start to speak. "I'll be back; I just need to go to the bathroom." I can hear Talia hum out a response, but before I can sequester myself back in my room, Miles' hand is blocking the door. I open it wider, staring at him in confusion.

"Bathroom is down the hall," I say, sticking my head out and pointing at the slightly ajar door. Thankfully, Talia had stuck her headphones in, her head bopping along to whatever she was listening to, and utterly oblivious to Miles and me.

His eyes scan my face slowly, the frown deepening. "You never texted or called."

I set the bottle down, crossing my arms over my chest as Miles steps further into my room. His eyes don't leave my face, and for that, I'm grateful, knowing that if he takes the time to inspect his surroundings, his gaze will land on the box of memorabilia about Sebastian and me that is spilled out all over my floor.