Alex
I followedKyle’s advice and sent Mona a message through the app. Well, it was sent under the alias I have on there. Considering the urgency of the message she had sent me, I expected to get a reply right away. But here I am, seventy-two hours later, staring at myHolidatesinbox, and seeing nothing.
I refresh the browser, but no luck, so I pick up my phone. I open the app and tap on the inbox. Empty.
“What the fuck.” I throw the phone on the desk, disgust lacing my tone. How am I supposed to win Mona back when she won’t even answer to the fake me now?
On a whim, I pick up the phone again and find her name in my contacts. I don’t hesitate when I tap on the call icon, then wait for it to ring. Instead, it goes straight to voicemail, which can only mean that, true to her word, she still has me blocked.
Pressure builds up in my head, to the point where it feels like it may explode. I go back to my contacts and look up the name of the one person who I blame for this entire fucked up situation.
“She never wrote back,” I snap at Kyle as soon as he answers the phone.
“What?” He sounds groggy and like I just woke him up.
“You said I should write to her and ask to meet again,” I grunt through my very tense jaw. “I did that, and she has not responded. At all,” I make sure to add. “Not one fucking word.”
There’s a shuffling noise coming from the other end, making me wonder what the hell he’s doing.
“I’ll be right back, baby,” he whispers to someone. That only makes me want to punch a damn whole into the wall. Why is he always with Zara when I call? And why do they have to sound so damn happy every single time? Don’t they fight? Everybody fights, right?
I pace the floor of my office, going back and forth as I wait for Kyle to come back to our phone conversation. In the corner of my eye, I see a couple of messages popping on my computer from the work account. My first instinct is to go check because it could be something important, but I take a deep breath and focus on the problem at hand. Multitasking is not a good idea at the moment. I would most likely mess something up.
“Okay, man, sorry about that.” Kyle sighs into the phone.
“I have no idea why I called you,” I confess to him. “You’re useless to me.”
He snorts at hearing that. “How so?”
“I keep on listening to you and all this advice you have for me to get Mona back, and nothing fucking works. In fact…” I run a hand through my hair, desperation invading all my senses. “Whatever you tell me, I should do the complete opposite.”
I hear the panic in my tone, but I can’t stop myself. I’ve never felt like this before, like I’ve lost control of every single part of my life, and nothing makes sense.
“Dude, you gotta calm down. Where are you even?”
I roll my eyes at his question even though he can see me. “I’m at the office, like every normal person who works for a living.”
“Hey!” He takes offense to that. “I work for a living, too.”
“You were fucking sleeping with your girlfriend at two o’clock in the afternoon,” I yell at him. “Why is she even there? Shouldn’t she be at work? You support her now?”
I want to take the words back as soon as they come out, but it’s too late. Kyle is eerily quiet, and I don’t blame him. After all, it is not my first time saying unflattering things about Zara.
“I’m sorry.” I sigh and continue pacing. “I’m a fucking asshole. I can’t stop myself. I don’t knowhowto stop myself,” I admit.
He remains quiet, which is not his style at all. He normally likes to run his mouth and annoy the shit out of me. Oh, how the tables have turned.
“I understand you’re a nutcase,” he finally says. “But if you say one more thing about Zara, or suggest that she’s using me for money… You are no longer my friend, and you never will be again.”
“Kyle,” I sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…”
“Tell me that you understand what I just told you,” he demands. His easy-going attitude is gone, and he means business.
“I do, man. I promise. I’ll make it up to Zara, too…”
I don’t even know why I say that. I have zero clue how I could do that. I already talked to her, apologized, and she told me to fuck off.
“You need fucking therapy,” Kyle declares. “And maybe you need to take your old man to one of the sessions, so thatthe crazy people doc can fully understand the gravity of the situation. Five minutes with your father, and they’ll have a plan of attack on how to fix you.”
