Devin
The muffled ringing of myphone wakes me from my restless sleep. Between crying, a migraine, and the three glasses of wine Brielle poured me as I wallowed through the reheated pizza she made us for lunch, I crashed hard. My cat nap was needed to say the least.
My arm feels like a lead cannon as I raise it and sweep my hand under my pillow, searching for the offending ringing. It’s a struggle to open my sore eyes enough to read the caller ID once it’s in my grasp.
Madison Brooks.
This better not be the call letting me know they’ve packed my desk and revoked my access to the building. I need at least one more day before the rest of my life implodes.
“Hello.” My voice sounds like I gargled with broken glass.
Madison’s tone is soft and soothing as she greets me in a friendlier tone than anticipated. “Hi, Devin. Veronica has some important things to go over with us. We’re meeting at my parents’ home in about an hour. Can you please meet us there?”
I’m not sure it’s really a question, even though it’s phrased as one. It’s not like I can’t meet them. This is my life’s work. I’d go to China if she told me she had a way to fix this. But I honestly don’t know how much more I can take.
“Of course,” I reply, knowing there’s no other acceptable answer. “Do you know if she has good news?”
“I don’t know,” Madison says with a hint of remorse. “But she did say she has a plan.”
“Okay,” I sigh. “Please text me the address.”
We disconnect before I can ask myself what it means that Madison was the one to call me when it should have been Sebastian.
He’s clearly angry with me.
Would he be that spiteful though?
Would he just cut me off?
Deep down I know the answer is no, but the hurt in his eyes as he threw my words back at me before sending me home like an errant school girl is prominent in my mind.
I hope he’s not going to be one of those petty fighters who uses the silent treatment as a punishment while arguing.
Jesus Christ, Devin. Cut the man some slack. It’s been only a few hours since everything happened. Give him some time to deal with his pain.
Oh my God, I’m fucking talking to myself now. I’m going to have a nervous breakdown.
My fingers move across the screen of my phone, dialing a number I know by heart, and when his voice comes over the line, I feel the torrent of emotions inside quell just enough for me to say what I need to.
“I need you.”
“I’ll be there in twenty.”
* * *
“Relax,”Mark says, pulling upin front of the address Madison texted me. Luckily, we find a spot across the street. “Let’s hear what she has to say and take it from there, Dev.”
He always knows what to say. He never tells me to calm down or I’m overreacting. My brother has always understood what I need and how to comfort me in a way only a sibling can.
Mark was at my door in fifteen minutes, and I was pouring out my heart before I even had the seat belt clicked. The ride to the Upper West Side was spent filling him in on what has transpired over the last few days in my hectic life. As I recounted the events of this morning, I watched as he worked his jaw in annoyance.
Mark exits the car first before coming around to open my door. I’m frozen to my seat, completely terrified of what is waiting for me on the other side of the door. I’m about to hear more shit that has the potential to let me know I’m fucked or that maybe there’s a way out, all while meeting Sebastian’s parents to discuss how to do damage control regarding the picture of their son and me fucking on the front page of a trash magazine. This is not the way I wanted to make my first in-person impression on my boyfriend’s parents.
“Take a deep breath and get out of the car, Devin.”
I expand my lungs as far as I can and let the air out slowly.
“Okay,” I say, swinging my legs out the open door. “I’m good. Let’s go.”
