The Art of Starting Over

Chapter 15 - Ipokriti

Three hours later, I was back through the front door, shoes in hand, hair dishevelled, and carrying a poorly disguised walk of shame. The last thing I expected to see was Jeremy and Millie in the living room watching reruns of Ipokriti, yet there they were.

Jeremy dragged his attention away from the screen and his blue eyes widened in alarm as he took me in. I saw the struggle inside him as he tried to hide his displeasure. I groaned and fell back against the door, hanging my head, letting my hair fall in front of my face and hiding behind it.

"Why are you still here?"

When he didn't answer, I peered at him from behind my veil of hair. Jeremy's expression was taut and I saw his hurt as he turned back to the soap opera without a word.

"What happened, honey?" Millie asked, concerned.

"I broke up with Shaun," I announced, dropping my shoes and clutch and staggering towards them.

They scooted over to make room for me and I squeezed myself between them, resting my head on Nanna's ever-hospitable shoulder.

"You did?" she said ruefully, reaching up to stroke my hair. "Why?"

I contemplated the TV and realised that I remembered this episode. Nancy, the evil maid who worked for Xander and his rich family, was contemplating the crippled uncle from her hiding place. She was concocting a plan to get rid of him once and for all.

"He said... He thinks... ugh!" I groaned. "Shaun said he loves me."

I felt as though I were in a soap opera myself. No matter what I did to avoid drama, I always seemed to end up right in the middle of it. I was just like Norma, young, naïve, and always in the crux of some tragic relationship. But that was the thing. I didn't want to be in the crux of anything anymore. It was just three weeks! Who catches feelings in three weeks?

"Oh, sweetheart," Millie said as she continued to stroke my hair.

I turned to Jeremy, wondering if he was still upset at my remark, but to my surprise, there was a definite grin plastered on his face.

"What are you smiling about?" I asked warily.

"Nothing," he replied, his smirk growing unbelievably bigger.

My temper stirred. "I may not understand Maltese very well, but I know this is not a funny episode. Nancy is about to push Rafel into the pool. So, while I'm honoured to be the source of your amusement, I would be very much obliged if you could fill me in on why you have that stupid grin on your face."

Millie's hand froze in place.

"I am not laughing at you," he stated defensively, struggling to keep a straight face.

I sat up and looked at him threateningly. He held my gaze for half a second before he caved.

"Okay, I am," he admitted and I rolled my eyes. "I told you from the start he's an amateur. Why would he say something like that after three weeks? And to you, of all people!"

I felt the muscles around my jaw tighten. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying that if he thinks you're the kind of person who falls in love in three weeks, he can't be very bright."

"Oh, because the girls you date are sharp as a tack!" I snapped back, even though I wasn't sure why I was contradicting him. He was perfectly right. But I hated it.

"Of course they're not. I choose my women very carefully. I have a formula. Two-thirds looks, one-third brains, and an unfortunate need to prove themselves. Throw in some daddy issues and you've got yourself the perfect combo."