I don’t slam the door when I leave. I don’t throw anything. I don’t scream.
I just go.
Back in my apartment, I sit on the edge of the couch, elbows on my knees, heart still racing a hundred miles a minute.
Fifteen minutes. That’s our rule. Fifteen minutes to be mad, and then we fix it.
I check the time.
2:00 a.m.
I stare at the door.
2:10 a.m.
2:15 a.m.
I don’t move. I can’t move.
2:16 a.m.
2:17 a.m.
2:20 a.m.
2:32 a.m.
And for the first time in our entire lives, fifteen minutes come and go, and there’s no happy makeup. No apology. No…anything.
Tonight, both of us know fifteen minutes won’t make it better.
Sunday, September 14th
Julia
Seventeen hours and forty-two minutes.
That’s how much time has passed since Ace left my apartment after kissing me and confessing to a laundry list of manipulative moves over the last few months, and I feel an emptiness in the space right beside my heart where I usually keep our friendship like you wouldn’t believe.
I’m cold to my bones and shriveled where I used to bloom. Betrayal lingers at the edge of all our sweet memories, and a new fear, rooted in how cavalierly he lied to me, sinks claws into my innocence.
Ace has always been a pillar of trust for me, and with all his omissions and illusions, that strong foundation crumbled into a pile of rubble.
And now, it’s been seventeen hours and forty-three minutes since he walked out my apartment door, and I’m fighting every naïve part of myself to keep my backbone from bending.
I love him. But I don’t deserve to be anything but first in line.
I woke up this morning to several soft knocks on my door and Yoko barking because of them. Drew, smiling and holding up coffees and a bag of muffins, was on the other side.
I told myself not to be disappointed.
I’m still working on following the order.
I sit on the couch in my apartment and try to swallow a bite of blueberry muffin while Drew tells me a story about his childhooddog Betsy. His expression is soft. His hand is warm on my knee. He’s everything I should want, and my mind knows it.
My heart is just a little bit behind.
But I nod at the right places. I even smile when I’m supposed to. I am fake-it-till-you-make-it live and in color. Yoko, the adorable traitor, decided it was too early to be up and went back to my bed to sleep it off, so it’s just the two of us, and the newness of our relationship is helping me pull it off.
