For the first time in a week, I wake up and smile. I love waking up to Veronica in the morning. The smile starts to fade because I know something’s wrong. I thought we’d talk about it last night, but she never said more than a few words at a time. I don’t want to push her though. I’m not sure what’s going on, and after yesterday, my fears of her cheating aren’t going away.

I wasn’t afraid of that at first. Sure, I suppressed those thoughts from time to time, but there was no real reason to think that. Because like Veronica herself said, she’s never given me a reason not to trust her.

Then I saw her with Tim.

It wasn’t that I saw them talking, it was how they were. His arms around her, and was she hugging him back? I can’t even remember.

I remember heading down the boardwalk to meet up with Taylor first and then I was going to text the girls. But when I saw Cindy in a store, I went in, thinking I’d find Veronica there, too. She wasn’t. Cindy said she went next door to grab some drinks and so I waited for her to buy her clothes, and we’d head next door together.

Instantly alarm bells went off. It was happening again.

But I fought it. No. She wouldn’t do that. I have no reason to suspect that. And then she started to defend him. She actually defended that asshole and then got mad at me for being jealous, before storming away.

After I dropped her off, I called Taylor, feeling utterly lost. Even though he loves to play the field, I know he’s had a serious relationship. I know what it meant to him. I called him, hoping to just get it off my chest and calm down, but it just made me freak out more.

I started off the conversation blurting out that I caught her and Tim together and instead of seeming mad, she looked like she actually liked it. Like she was enjoying talking to him. It didn’t matter what she said, my assumptions were already forming.

“She’s cheating on me, right? I mean, that’s the only option,” I blurted out to Taylor.

“Whoa, dude. Calm down. There’s no way she’d do that.”

“Yeah,” I responded. “But what if? What if she’s been playing me this whole time?”

“Are you hearing yourself, Micah? Veronica wouldn’t do that. What you saw was just them talking. Granted, I don’t know why she’d give that piece of shit the time of day, but that’s it. They were just talking.”

“Then why has she been acting strange this whole week?”

“Because of Lana.”

“That was just one time, Taylor. And I begged her to stay that morning, I begged. But she left. Was she trying to give me an opening or something? Thinking if I cheated, then she could justify whatever she’s doing or has done or is going to do? Maybe it’s all catching up to her now, and she’s just freaking out or feeling bad, because she knows what it’s like to be cheated on, and she knows it’s already happened to me. Maybe she—”

“Dude, dude! Calm down. You’re turning into a conspiracy theorist. She’s not cheating on you. If you want to know why she’s been acting weird, then you need to ask her. But seriously, Micah, get your head right because there’s no way in hell Veronica is cheating on you.”

We ended the call, but it didn’t help. When she came over, I wanted to ask her point blank if that was the case. And then I saw her. She’s incredible. I love her dark curls or those large, chestnut eyes. And even if the smile doesn’t seem real, it still gets me.

No answers were given through the night. We talked a little, ate our dinner, and then just laid in bed, watching TV. I wanted to bring it up, but I didn’t want to fight. She fell asleep, and as she did, it was the first time in forever where it felt like we were normal. She snuggled closer to me, wrapping her arm around me. I turned off the television and fell asleep, hoping this week has just been a horrible nightmare.

I run my hand along her arm, taking in a deep breath of her scent. I wish we could stay like this for the rest of the day, but I have work in a couple of hours.

She stifles a yawn, her back pressing against my chest, and I wrap my arms around her again. “Morning,” I whisper in her ear.

“Mmm,” she replies, making me laugh.

I slide my hand over her stomach, moving it lower toward her underwear. “You know, the last time we were in bed together, you said you were experiencing technical difficulties.” My hand glides under the edge of her panties. “I take it, you’re running at full capacity now.” I chuckle at my joke.

She doesn’t laugh. I feel her tense up, and her hand runs over mine, stopping it from moving. “Well, I am, but …”

Lifting myself on an elbow, I lean in closer to her. “But what?”

She looks back at me, over her shoulder. “Nothing, I just … I’m tired, Micah.”

She’s tired? We haven’t had sex in two weeks.

“Veronica, last time you slept over you were giggling about thinking you’re sex-obsessed. Now you’re tired?”

Turning on her side to face me, she frowns, narrowing her eyes. “Yes, Micah. I’m sorry, okay?”

“You don’t need to be sorry. I just wish I knew what was going on.”

She scoffs. “I just told you. Sorry if your boner can’t accept that.”

Well, this escalated quickly. “Seriously? I don’t care if we have sex right now, okay? But you’re obviously going through something, and I wish I knew what it was. I thought we’d talk about it last night, but we didn’t. So fine, whatever. And now I just want to feel something with you other than this chasm of uncomfortableness, and you’re biting my head off. What the hell is going on?”

“Fine!” She pushes me onto my back, straddling me. Running her hands over my stomach, she stops them at my shorts. “Is this what you want, Micah?”

“What the—” My jaw drops. “No, it’s not. But you know what?” I throw my hands behind my head, lacing the fingers, and stare up at the ceiling. “If this is something you need, fine. Have at it.”

“Ugh!” She groans, pushing me in the stomach, before rolling off and laying with her back to me.

She sniffles, wrapping her hands around herself. Damn it. Everything is off, and it’s only getting worse.

I roll over to her, wrapping my arms around her. I wish she’d give me some signal that she at least still wants to be with me. That she even wants to be here right now. But she lays there, wrapping her arms around herself tighter. Another sniffle escapes.

“Vero, please tell me what’s wrong. What’s happening here?” I whisper to her, softly kissing her shoulder. “Baby, what am I doing wrong?”

Her head shakes from side to side. “Nothing. You’re not doing anything wrong, Micah. It’s me.”

I clench my eyes shut. It’s true. She’s cheating on me. “Just tell me, Vero. Just say it.”

A quiet cry slips out, and she brushes away tears. I hold her tighter, afraid this is going to be the last time I ever get to do this.

“I … I can’t,” she whispers. Scooting away, she slides off the bed, getting to her feet. “I should go. You have to go to work soon.”

Hurrying to the edge of the bed, I throw my arms around her waist and bury my head in her.

“Are you—” The words cut off. I can’t say it. Damn it, I need to know and can’t stand to know at the same time.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, bending over and kissing the top of my head. Prying my hands from around her she backs up slowly, grabbing her bag, and walks out of the room.

“You look like shit,” Taylor says to me as I lean against the front desk.

It’s been a slow day at the gym, which helps because I’m sure I do. I’ve been here for nearly three hours, and haven’t answered phones, swept, or mopped, or even checked the schedule for any personal trainers that come in that have appointments with clients—a new responsibility they’ve given me. Thankfully, Taylor’s supervising today, so at least he’s cutting me some slack. But it’s not the first time he’s mentioned how horrible I look.

“Good,” I grumble, doodling on a piece of paper on the counter. “That means I look exactly how I feel.”

I haven’t bothered to check my phone because I know she hasn’t texted me. What I don’t know is if this morning was the last time I’ll ever have her that close. And as much as I wish I knew whether or not she is cheating, I still want to see her again. I want to hold her and kiss her. Shit. I thought it hurt when I caught Lana cheating on me. Once I know this is for real, I don’t know how I’ll be able to function.

“Still Awkward City, huh?”

“That’s putting it mildly.” I shake my head. “We didn’t talk all night, and this morning we got in an argument. I was going to ask her point-blank if she’s cheating on me, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t get the words out.”

He lets out a long sigh, slapping my shoulder. “Sorry, that sucks. I will say, I still think you’re crazy.”

I continue to doodle, not bothering to reply.

Two girls walk by, leaving the gym. “Later, Taylor,” one calls out, giving him the ‘Call me tonight, because I desperately need you’ smirk.

“Later, Katie.”

“Shit,” I grumble, wagging my head before dropping it between my shoulders. “Why the hell can’t I just be like you, man?”

He lets out a loud laugh that’s part humor part apathetic. “Shut the hell up, Micah. You and I both know that’s never been you.”

“Yeah. Sucks to be me.”

He laughs again. “Dude, get the hell out of here.”

Looking behind us, I find the clock on the wall, seeing I still have a couple of hours left on my shift. “I’m not off until four.”

“Yeah, well, we’re slow. And you’re not gonna do us any good if someone comes in trying to sign up for a membership and sees you. Exercising is supposed to produce endorphins, bro. Not make you depressed.”

“Fine.”

“You’re supposed to meet up with your dad, right?”

“Yeah, I am.” I pull out my phone, a tiny piece of me hoping to find a missed call or text message, but there aren’t any new notifications. “I’ll call him, see if he wants to meet up early.”

I’m sitting in the diner, impatiently waiting for my dad to show up. We were supposed to meet up in a couple more hours for an early dinner since my mom is out with my aunt and grandmother.

Spinning the glass of water in front of me, Debbie walks by. “I can get your order started for you if you want, Micah.”

“No thanks, Deb. I don’t think I’m ordering anything.”

She frowns, then eyes the glass of water. I haven’t touched it.

“You feeling okay, hun?”

I shrug, playing with the straw in the glass. “I don’t know. This week’s been kind of shitty.”

Offering my a small smile, I nod back at her and see my father walking in.

“Hey, Micah. Thanks for bailing me out of the office.” I twist my head slightly. “We’re working on this design for Winston’s Tires, but the owner is being a huge pain. He keeps going back and forth between designs we’ve made over the last two weeks. We’ll decide on one, and then he’ll change his mind. Then he wants to add or take things off. I knew we should’ve never taken this account, but you know Billy.” He chuckles, taking a drink of his water. “Billy knows best, my ass.”

It’s a running joke we have between ourselves and Billy, one of the designers in his office. Years ago, a local landscape company wanted a design for a billboard. Dad thought there should be a cactus on the design. Billy said palm trees. When they called the landscape company, the owner decided on the palm trees. Ever since then, whenever a decision on a design, or in the case of Winston Tire’s, comes into play—Dad didn’t want to take the account, but Billy says they’re expanding and it’d be a great pickup—Billy always proudly smiles, lording it over my dad with the phrase, “Billy knows best. Billy is wise, and Billy is all-knowing.” It’s actually quite comical to see them go back and forth like brothers.

Today? Nothing.

Laughing at his joke, he stops and quirks an eyebrow at me. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.” I continue to twirl the straw around. “Things are … weird.”

“Weird how? With Taylor?”

I shake my head. “Veronica.”

“What happened?”

Before I can answer, Debbie walks back over. “The usual for you, Jacob?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Debbie.”

She scribbles quickly on her pad and walks away, my father giving her a smile. Returning his gaze to me, his smile vanishes.

“Micah, what’s wrong? Are you guys pregnant?” he asks bluntly, but softly.

“What?” I gape. “No, nothing like that.”

“Oh, thank God.” He wipes imaginary sweat from his forehead. “Your mother wants grandkids, but I don’t think she wants them just yet.”

“Nice, Dad,” I retort, sounding more upset than I should.

“Did you guys get in a fight?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper, gazing at my glass of water again.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“It’s like I said, it’s been weird.”

Other than Taylor, my dad is my best friend. Some people might find it weird with how open I am with him, but we’ve always been like that. Even going back to grade school. He’ll ask me something, and I’ll reply honestly.

Take the pregnancy question, for example. Other parents might have beaten around the bush with that. Made it uncomfortable or wouldn’t know how to broach the topic. But he just came right out and asked me.

I don’t talk about my sex life, but I have no problem talking about mature matters with him. “It’s felt off this last week. She’s felt off.”

“How so?”

“After she returned from Mexico I felt like we’d crossed a point in our relationship. When she got back, she stayed over. Everything about that night felt perfect. And then, the very next day, it shifted.”

“Isn’t that when Lana was over?”

I texted my dad later that day, asking him how I should’ve handled it. I thought I did everything right. Maybe I didn’t. “Yeah, but Veronica said it was fine. Lana left a couple hours later. I begged V to stay that morning, she just said it felt too weird with Lana there.”

“Have you tried talking to her?”

I let out a deep breath. “I’ve tried, I have, but … I can’t get the words out.”

“Son, you guys need to talk. You two seemed really happy the times I’ve seen you together. But if you can’t talk to one another, then that’s just going to build up a wall. This could be nothing. However, you’ll never know that unless you guys are honest with one another. Even silence can get lost in translation.”

“I can’t.”

He pauses, and I still have my eyes on the table, but I can feel his on me. After a moment longer, he finally speaks up. “Why not?”

“Because I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of what, son?”

“I’m afraid …” He waits patiently, but I don’t want to say these thoughts out loud. Every time I say them, it makes it feel like it’s the truth. He reaches over and grabs hold of my arm, giving it a squeeze. My voice drops lower. “I’m afraid she’s cheating on me.”

He’s quiet. He waits there, and just as it looks like he’s going to talk, Debbie walks by. “Here’s your order.”

“Thanks.” He looks over at her. “Um, do you think we could get this to go. You can bring us the check, too.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he replies with a smile.

I’m staring directly at him, but I can feel Debbie’s sympathetic gaze on me. She picks the plate back up and walks away.

“Why would you think that, Micah?” he asks.

“It’s the only thing I can think of. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“But you said she’s just acting weird. That could mean anything.”

Taylor’s words rattle in my head, telling me I’m paranoid. “I know. Taylor said the same thing. What else could have her acting like this? I don’t think I’ve done anything to push her away. And remember when I caught Lana cheating on me? I told you she was acting funny.”

“Lana’s a funny girl though. Veronica is not.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means Lana acting funny could mean she was drunk. Don’t act like you didn’t have her sleep off a couple nights in your room back in high school.”

“You knew about that?”

“Micah.” He looks at me like he just caught me stealing cookies out of a cookie jar. I haven’t done that in years. “Of course, we knew about that.”

“We? Mom knew, too?” Again, he gives me the same expression. “Wait, but she loves Lana. Even knowing those things, and that she cheated on me, she still wants me back with her?”

“People make mistakes, Micah.”

“Oh, God.” I fall face forward onto the table. “Don’t you get on that bandwagon now.”

“It’s the truth. But we aren’t talking about Lana. I know you said she was acting weird, and I know what ended up happening. But this is Veronica. She’s the complete opposite of Lana. I’d have a hard time believing Veronica would do anything like that.”

“Then what, Dad?” My voice gets louder than I mean for it to, and I glance around the diner, but no one is paying attention.

“I don’t know, Micah,” he answers, sternly. “It could be anything. Or it could be nothing. That’s why you two need to talk. Maybe she just needs assurance from you.”

“Assurance? Dad, we’ve exchanged the I love yous. She knows how I feel. And I thought I knew how she felt.”

“Why, because you told her you loved her?”

I give him a pointed stare. “Well, yeah.”

“Micah,” he lets out a disbelieving chuckle, “telling someone you love them, and showing them are two separate things.”

I gaze at him, confused. “Uh, I hope you don’t mean …”

“No,” he chuckles. “Why would she know you love her, other than your words and your guys’ time together?”

I stare again, only this time all I can do is blink. I have no idea how to answer this question. I thought my words were enough. I mean, her words were enough for me. Or were they? If they were, would I be sitting here right now, thinking she’s cheating on me?

“I had to prove to your mom that I loved her,” he says, and suddenly gets quiet. As he’s taking another drink of his water, Debbie comes back to the table, setting down the check and his box of food before walking away. “Sometimes, you have to prove your love because of circumstances,” he says, aimlessly staring at his water. Finally looking back up, his eyes meet mine. “And sometimes, you have to prove it to each other. It sounds like you two need a serious talk with one another. Get it all out. And maybe show her you love her, instead of just telling her.”

Biting my lip, I know what he’s telling me, but I have no clue how to do that. Either of those things. I could barely get the words out this morning.

“I’m gonna pay for this and get going,” he says, getting up from the table. As he does, his keys drop to the ground. “Your mom’s going to kill me if I lose these things again. My keychain broke last week, and I lost our house key.” He chuckles, before giving my shoulder a squeeze. “Let me know how it goes, Micah.”

Continuing to look down at the spot where his keys dropped, an idea forms.

I hate it when Veronica has to wait outside of the apartment. Especially when I’m home but in the shower, and she’s waiting outside all alone. Taylor actually brought it up once, but I didn’t think much of it. Maybe if I did something like getting her a key, it’d show I’m serious. That whatever her fears are surrounding us, she doesn’t have anything to worry about.

Taking out my phone, I decide to call her. She answers, but her voice sounds timid. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I reply, trying to sound sure and confident. “What are you doing?”

“Um, not much. Helping my mom with dinner.”

“Okay, so …” Deep breaths, Micah. “I was hoping you might come over tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Her voice is almost painfully unsure. “Yeah, I guess I can.”

I wish she’d sound surer than that, but I’ll take it. “Okay, great. I’ll have your favorites, and maybe we can cook up some fettuccini alfredo.”

“Sure.” She still sounds reluctant.

“I can pick you up if you want. I work all day but get off around five.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. Cindy and I were actually going to go to the campus bookstore. Plus, I’m helping Toto with more paperwork.”

Damn. “Okay, no problem. So then I’ll see you around five?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“Great.” I hope my smile doesn’t sound as fake as it feels. “Talk to you tomorrow. I love you.”

“Uh, yeah. Love you, too.”

At least she said it. Tomorrow we’re finishing whatever this is. Come hell or high water, I’m going to talk to her. Tell her my concerns. Figure out what is going on with us. And I’ll give her a key to the place. Show her I’m serious about us. I really do want her there twenty-four-seven, so hopefully after talking and dinner, and the key, we’ll have this settled. Hopefully.