He shut his mouth and closed his eyes, like he should have seen that coming.
“This is my final warning, Kevin. Walk away. Don’t speak to me. Don’t look at me. You have five seconds. Otherwise, I will break your fucking face until it’s unrecognizable and your fiancée won’t even want you anymore.”
He stared down at the floor.
“Five.”
He sighed so loudly that I actually heard it over the music.
“Four, bitch.”
“Derek—”
“Three, motherfucker.” I held up three fingers.
He closed his eyes.
“Two.” I held up two fingers. “Call my bluff, asshole. I’ll be happy to break your face the way you broke my world.”
He kept his eyes closed.
“One—”
He got up and walked away.
I dropped my hand, both relieved and disappointed. The music blared from the speakers as I watched him cross the bar and head for the exit. I wanted to hurt him the way he’d hurt me, but I was also glad he left…because hurting Ryan’s friend would have been a really shitty thing to do at his bachelor party.
I looked over at Ryan, who was totally knocked out, his mouth open as he slept through the music and the threats that had just taken place. I lay back against the seat and rested my arm over his shins like an armrest. My heart continued to race with adrenaline, and my vision was slightly tinted red from the rage that would still be there even when I woke up tomorrow morning.
I sat there alone…and waited for the night to end.18EmersonOn Saturday morning, Lizzie and I grabbed her favorite fall drink from the coffee shop, and we went for a walk in the park. I was grateful Derek never asked me to work weekends because I got to spend that time with Lizzie. Sometimes she had games, and I would sit in the bleachers and watch her, and while I was grateful to be there, I preferred to spend time with her in other ways, where we could actually talk to each other.
Lizzie and I were having lunch when Derek texted me. Baby, I’m going to have to reschedule for tonight.
I read his message and felt a wave of disappointment hit me. Hard.
Lizzie must have noticed because she said, “What?”
I looked up quickly and put my phone down. “Derek rescheduled. Didn’t say why.” I knew he’d gone out with Ryan and some friends to celebrate the wedding. I suspected it didn’t go well and that was the reason why Derek canceled. Maybe he was hungover, but I suspected he would say that if that were the case.
“Maybe he had to work.”
He didn’t go in on the weekends since the compound was closed. And he wouldn’t go in in the evening either. But I didn’t say that to Lizzie. “Yeah, maybe.”
She dunked her chips into the salsa as she stared at me. “Then why do you still look like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you might cry.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not going to cry. I just…hope everything is alright.”
She continued to eat her chips, studying me.
If Lizzie weren’t with me, I would stop by his penthouse and see him myself, but I knew I couldn’t overstep my boundaries and break his privacy just because I was anxious to know everything was okay. I would have to let it go.
“Maybe he can come over tomorrow.”
“Yeah, maybe.”We were in front of the TV that evening, and even though Lizzie always wanted to stay up late on the weekends, she was knocked out by nine. She was sleeping on the couch, the blanket draped over her, her ponytail up on the pillow behind her.
I pulled out my phone and texted Derek. I hadn’t stopped thinking about what he said to me that afternoon, and it was consuming me. You think you can come over for dinner tomorrow? I didn’t want to be clingy and anxious, but I was anxious. He told me it didn’t bother him when I was blunt with my thoughts and feelings, so I didn’t try to be diplomatic.
He didn’t say anything.
Derek?
This weekend just doesn’t work for me. I’ll see you on Monday.
It was like a punch to the stomach, knocking all the air out of my lungs. My eyes sank in disappointment. I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t want to have this conversation over text message.I had my mom hang out with Lizzie the next day so I could go to Derek’s penthouse by myself. I couldn’t wait until Monday to have this conversation, to talk him through whatever he was struggling with. It sounded like more than a simple falling-out between two friends. Whatever happened was intense.
I knocked on his door.
No answer.
I knocked again. “Derek, it’s me.”
It was at least thirty seconds before his footsteps were audible on the other side of the door. Locks were turned and then he opened it. He didn’t give me a warm reception, no slight smile, no affection in his gaze. His eyes were lidded with irritation, like we were back in time when I was just an annoying pest that wouldn’t go away.