“Yeah, I had a rough couple of days,” I say the truth or at least a part of the truth. “I always get like this toward the end of the school year. You know this.”
“I guess I never noticed,” he says, breathing out. “I miss you.” I want to roll my eyes. Maybe it’s because I feel stabby since I’ve slept maybe five hours in three days, but I’m just annoyed. “Did you think about coming to visit me this weekend?”
“I told you that I couldn’t,” I remind him. “I have so much to prepare for, not to mention the carnival at the end of the month, and I promised the kids I would help with prom.”
“Goddammit, Emily,” he snaps. “When are you going to put you and me before your job?”
“So, this is me ending this conversation,” I say. “I’m tired, I’m stressed, and frankly, I don’t have time for your tantrum.”
“I know what this is,” Drew says. “I knew the minute he stepped foot into town that you would change.”
I gasp out in shock. “I have not changed,” I answer. I haven’t changed at all. Is my heart intact? No. Am I going on with it? Yes. “And for your information, if you think back to last year, you will recall we had the same argument.”
“It’s just …” he starts to say, his voice softening, and I’m over it.
“It’s nothing. You’re tired, and I’m tired, so I’m going to let you go. I’m going to take a nice bath, and I’ll call you tomorrow,” I say, closing my eyes.
“Fine,” he breathes out heavily. “I’m going to go to the bar to get a drink, and then I’ll hit the hay.”
“Night, Drew,” I say, and I hang up before he says he loves me. Putting the phone on the counter, I get up and walk toward my bedroom. I love my bedroom, and when it came time to decorate it, I did what I wanted. So my king-size bed sits in the middle of the room with a soft pink fabric headboard. The white duvet is so puffy and thick it looks like a cloud. I love pillows, so there are eight pillows on the bed, not counting my light pink throw pillows.
Walking to the closet, I kick off my shoes before walking into the bathroom and going to my tub. I start the water, throwing in a bath bomb. After I undress, I slip into the water and tie up my hair, and a tear falls without me knowing or feeling it. Tears have come every single day since he walked away from me. Or I guess I walked away from him this time. I put my head back and close my eyes, but it does nothing to help with the tears. Instead, it takes me back to memories of him, and I don’t want them.
After a mere ten minutes, I get out of the bath and slip on my robe. I walk out and sit on my bed, reaching over and grabbing the remote. I stop and open the white side table drawer, seeing our picture right on the top. I pick it up and look at it again. I want to throw it out, but I know that the minute I do that, I’ll regret it.
“Maybe that is what I need,” I tell myself, getting out of the bed. “I need to purge him from the house.”
I’m about to walk into the closet when the doorbell rings. I look at the clock and see it’s only seven fifteen. “Jesus, what is wrong with me?” Walking to the door, I open it and see it’s Jenna.
“Are you in your pjs?” she asks, walking in and looking at me with disdain. “It’s seven.”
“Yeah, well, I’m tired,” I say, closing the door. “I didn’t know you would be stopping by.”
“I know. It’s called being spontaneous.” She laughs, as we walk down the hallway. “Oh my god, were you making tea?”
“No,” I lie to her. “I made tea before the bath.”
“You already had a bath? What is wrong with you?” Jenna throws her hands in the air. “Why are the drapes closed? You hate them closed.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t hate them closed. It’s nighttime.”
“The sun is still out.” She points at the window as she opens the drapes. “The sun hasn’t even set yet.”
“I’m tired!” I yell, throwing up my hands. “I haven’t slept well, and I’m tired.”
“Go get dressed and let’s go get some ice cream,” she tells me. “You need to get out and not dwell in this fucking house.” She glares at me now. “I know what you’re doing.”
I shake my head. “He told me he loves me.” The tears come now as I tell her some of what he told me. I keep most of it to myself, though, because it’s mine and only mine.