Rya: Where are you? We woke up, and you were gone?
I look back up at Haley, ignoring the text message.
“It’s fine,” she snaps. “I was able to get store-bought crappy-ass cupcakes for the party.”
I want to keep apologizing, but I’m too mentally drained for this. I should be trying to figure out my life, not worrying about a kid’s birthday party. But I know my business depends on it. Haley has been such a great customer, and she sent me so many referrals, and all I did was let her down.
“I’m not sure opening a storefront is the right move for you right now. I talked to my husband about it, and I think we’ll hold off on it,” she says.
Disappointment sits heavy on my chest. I look at her and she gives me a tight smile.
“I understand. Is there anything I can do for you before I leave?” I ask.
She shakes her head.
“Okay,” I mumble. “Have a great party. Again, I’m sorry.” I turn around and heading back to my car.
The sound of the door shutting behind me brings the same memory of the sound of the bar doors shutting behind me last night. My shoulders tense at the familiar sound.
“How do you think this is going to go?” Rya asks over her shoulder at me in the back seat of her car. Ezra is driving us over to my house. I have a strong feeling I’m going to come right back to Rya and Ezra’s place after this conversation. Because deep down, I know this isn’t going to go well.
After that Saturday disaster with Haley, I sat at Rya and Ez’s house all day, moping around. Ez wanted to go talk to Zay yesterday, but I told him it was probably no use. He’s going to be sleeping all day from the night before and then he’ll head out again once night comes.
I also wanted a day. A day to do nothing. A day for rest. Even though I was tense all day. Every sound my phone made, I thought was Zayn. My heart would race only for it to drop when it wasn’t him. Once again, he never cared to ask where I was or if I was okay.
He’s not the same man I married or the same best friend I had growing up. I can remember all the times we had together. He’s just not the same person anymore, and I can’t figure out what went wrong. What changed?
I feel like I’m mourning the loss of my best friend and husband, even though he’s physically here. He’s emotionally gone.
“I don’t know. The way he’s been acting, he’ll probably break another fuse,” I say, staring out at the window, watching kids play out on the lawn.
I’m thankful we don’t have kids. I don’t know what I’d do if kids were involved. Hell, how would he even act toward them? I used to think Zayn would be such a great dad and I couldn’t wait to raise kids with him. Back then, he was such a different man than he is now.
“I just hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship,” Rya says, turning herself back around.
“Why are you so worried about losing a friend like him? If he’s acting like this toward your best friend, you shouldn’t even want to be friends with him,” Ezra says.
Silence fills the car. His words linger in the air. Deep down, I know he’s right. I’ve had the same thoughts before. I played them over and over in my mind. I go back and forth, trying to justify things, making excuses for his behavior. I even tried to convince myself that maybe what he’s doing isn’t so bad. Because do I want to lose my best friend? Will I lose all three of my best friends?
But then there’s the other side that keeps me questioning why I’m putting up with this behavior. I deserve better, and if Zayn truly loved me, why would he be treating me like this?
Am I holding on to comfort?
We have so much history together. All four of us do. But Ez is right. Why keep a friend like that around? I’ve been fighting for someone that obviously doesn’t want me.
I let out a heavy sigh the moment we pull up. The house is dark. Almost dead, like no one lives here.
We walk in through the front door. The only light and sound is coming from the TV. I move to the side, and Ezra and Rya walk in. I close the door behind us and hear Zayn ask, “What are you guys doing here?”
“What’s going on, man?” Ezra asks.
I’m still standing by the door like a shadow, afraid to come out. Frozen in place, I don’t know what to do. I haven’t seen or talked to him in days.
“Just watching TV,” Zayn says, and then I hear shuffling.
Right as I round the corner, Zayn’s face turns in my direction. His head tilts and his shoulders slump as if seeing me took him over in exhaustion.
“Oh, what, did she have you guys come over to get me in trouble?” he asks sarcastically. He sits there on the couch in nothing but a pair of boxers. He’s lounging around like he has no care in the world. I’m over here having constant panic attacks. What a fucking prick.
