25
Lola
Everything is always different in the light of a new day, and today is no exception.
This time of year is always difficult for me. I’m a powder keg of emotions, and it takes very little to set me off. Grief and guilt have ruled my life for so long that I’m not sure I’d know how to function without them. But when I open my eyes this morning, they are noticeably absent.
Whatever happened between Daire and I last night was powerfully cathartic in a way I could have never predicted. But my troubled emotions aren’t the only thing missing when I examine the empty space beside me.
The shower is on again, and the bathroom door is closed, and maybe it’s just a habit, but it feels like so much more. A closed door is not an invitation to come closer. A closed door doesn’t need an underlying reason. It’s precisely what it’s meant to be.
A barrier between us.
My phone pings from beneath my pillow, and I’d forgotten that I even hid it there last night. When I retrieve it, I have two new messages waiting for me.
ThatGuy:
Morning Sunshine. Can I interest you in a warm cup of yogurt?
LolaB:
You’re a pervert. I think you deserve sitting in the same room with Mr. Ellis every day.
ThatGuy:
That hits me right in the feels, Lola. Be careful with your words, you can’t take them back.
I send him an emoji and toss my legs over the side of the bed.
ThatGuy:
One more week. Call me #excited. Are you?
One more week? I check my calendar app and realize he’s right. A sickening feeling blooms in my stomach. The clock is ticking and soon, Daire and I will go back to nothing. At least that was the plan, but I don’t see how it’s possible.
I know it’s what I promised, but we’ve been together. We’ve been together almost every day for two weeks, and he’s been inside of me, and not just my heart this time. I have a slight moment of panic when I realize that I don’t want it to end. I don’t want to let Daire go, and that scares me more than anything. But then I stare at that closed bathroom door and accept that I’ll have to. This is what we agreed on.
For about two seconds, I entertain the notion of confessing my feelings all over again. I could ask him to be honest. I could finish the conversation he tried to start yesterday. It’s risky and insane and downright terrifying, but is it possible that Daire has changed, or am I just wishful thinking?
I don’t know. But one thing I know for sure is that I can’t figure any of this out before I’ve had my caffeine. So, I pad down the hall to the kitchen and force my fingers to tap out a message to ThatGuy.
LolaB:
Guess you’ll find out in one week.
I add two winking emojis and feel like a complete hypocrite as I rifle through Daire’s cupboards. He has some sort of fancy pod machine on the counter, but no coffee that I can see. My heart stops when I open the bottom cupboard and find an entire bar’s worth of liquor. Some opened, some sealed. It’s the blast of cold water that wakes me right up.
He might act sober when I’m around him, and he might even be convincing, but this cupboard proves otherwise. My hands fall limply to my sides, and I wander back down the hall, sitting down on the bed to gather my thoughts. Daire is still in the shower, and I don’t know what’s going to happen when he comes out.
I don’t know what to do.
I need to talk to someone, but nobody in my life is impartial. Mellie thinks Daire is the worst thing for me and Britt is obsessed with him. I can’t even talk to Julian since I haven’t heard from after our last awkward encounter.
I grab my phone and do something impulsive and probably stupid.
LolaB:
Do you believe people can change?
ThatGuy:
Don’t people change all the time? I wasn’t the same guy ten years ago. Or even five. Isn’t the whole point of life to evolve?
LolaB:
I guess so. That makes sense.
And it does. I just don’t know if the same rules that apply to everyone else also apply to Daire.
ThatGuy:
I’m always right, Lola. You’ll figure that out eventually.
LolaB:
Pfft. Typical dude speak.
The phone pings again, but when I check the screen, I realize it isn’t mine. It’s Daire’s, and it’s sitting on the nightstand right beside me. I glance at the door and then back to the phone. He could be out any second. But then again, the man apparently takes the longest showers on the planet. In the end, I can’t help myself.
It’s a mistake I regret a moment later when I pull down the notifications and see the text on the screen. It’s a message from a woman named Graziela asking Daire where he was last night and how he could do this to her again.
My fingers tremble as I release the phone, and at the same time, the shower in the bathroom turns off.
I’m an idiot. That’s the only way to explain it. This entire time I’ve been contemplating my feelings for him, he’s been adhering to the original game plan. I believe him when he says we’re exclusive, but it doesn’t mean the second we call time he won’t be doing this with somebody else. I can’t face him now. I can’t look him in the eyes without betraying how much it hurts.
Fat tears are already streaking down my face as I scramble to pull on my dirty clothes. There isn’t time to write a note or pretend that everything is okay or even put on my shoes. I just grab them and run down the hall and punch into the elevator.
When the cab driver downstairs asks where I want to go, my answer is simple.
“Anywhere but here.”