Is he laughing about this? How is this funny to him?
I cross my arms tightly over my chest. “These were supposed to be done last night, but because of another one of your outbursts, they weren’t.”
He chuckles. “Okay, whatever. Blame me.”
My jaw clenches. “Where have you been?”
“Work.”
I let out a sigh, trying to calm myself and not go into a full-blown argument again like last night.
“Are you cheating on me?” I blurt out. I’ve been holding myself back all day from driving over to his work and asking him. I need to know the answer. I need something from him to get this out of my mind.
“What?” He avoids eye contact with me, flickering around the kitchen. “I’m not cheating on you.” His voice almost a laugh.
“Then what’s been going on, Zayn?” I say, with my heart pounding through my chest.
“You tell me. You were the one caught alone with a guy yesterday.”
“He isn’t just some guy,” I snap. “He’s our best friend.”
“Well, the two of you seemed pretty cozy.”
I shake my head. I can’t do this right now, but for some reason, I can’t stop. “Get over yourself. It’s Ezra.”
He stands there in silence. I can’t read his facial expressions. I don’t know what he’s thinking. “You know what? I don’t need to deal with this.” He turns around and walks right out the door.
My mouth once again parts in disbelief. I wait a minute before getting back to my baking to see if he’s coming back, but the sound of his engine comes to life and then it echoes out into the distance.
I turn back around, holding in the tears, trying to focus on my muffins so my tears don’t fall on them. But I can’t get them to stop. So I back away and take a breath to calm myself down.
My eyes burn from the lack of sleep; every blink feels like sandpaper against my lids, and my body feels no better. It’s a sluggish feeling, as if I’m hungover. At this moment, I regret taking this early morning order. Even though it’s not so early. I’m usually awake at this time.
But I got no sleep, so dragging myself out of bed at six in the morning feels like a chore. When I do drop-offs like these, I make myself more presentable. I can’t walk into a corporate office with skintight leggings and a sports bra. What would that say about my business?
Even with the amount of makeup I put on, I couldn’t hide the bags under my eyes. I hope no one thinks I’m hungover because my eyes are bloodshot. Even though I feel like I drank.
Zayn never came home last night. He didn’t call me or text me to even let me know where he was. The amount of willpower it took for me to not call or text him was unbearable. Every minute that passed felt like an hour. My fingers hovered over my phone more times than I could count. The urge to know where he was kept me up all night. Every time I would doze off, I would wake up frantic, as if I missed a call or text from him—butnothing came. I held back, staring at my phone all night, with a heavy heart.
There are two ways to get on the freeway from my house. One way passes his work, and the other passes the gym. I sit staring at my garage door as it goes down, wondering which way I should take. Either way is stupid because it’s too early for him to be at work. He left the house last night in his work clothes, so he doesn’t have clothes to wear to the gym. I take a deep breath because my mind is running crazy. I’ve never been one to overthink like this. Fuck, no wonder men call their partners crazy when they ask if they’re cheating. Because itliterallymakes you crazy.
I decide to take the way past his work since the GPS said it’s the fastest. I wish I had left sooner than I did so I could stop and get a coffee. My yawns are nonstop at this point.
The morning rush hour is so chaotic, making me grateful I stopped the nine-to-five.
After dropping off the muffins, I feel like it went well. Everyone was lost in the preparations for their meeting. They probably didn’t even notice my bloodshot eyes. I sit in the parking lot, watching people drive in, park, and rush off into the office. I don’t know if I’m sitting here because I’m exhausted or because I don’t want to go home. A home that doesn’t quite feel like home right now.
Violet: Hey are you working?
I text Rya to see if, by a miracle, she isn’t working. I should go home and work myself, but I can’t bring myself to go home right now.
I lean my head back on my seat. I put on RUFUS DU SOL to see if it will help calm my body and mind. Even though it’s not meditation music, there is something about his music that hitsjust right. Right as I close my eyes, a ping comes through my phone.
Rya: You’re in luck! I didn’t go in today.
Rya: What are you doing?
Violet: Sitting outside an office building.
