I close my eyes as she hugs me tighter, the comfort of her arms settling around me, and for a brief moment, the guilt eases—replaced by the ache of knowing how much this woman already means to me.It would be the perfect time to tell her everything.“Hey—” I try to start the conversation when she interrupts me.
“Would you like a cup of tea?”She slides out of my arms.
“I’ll take some chamomile.”
Sara freezes midway to the cabinet, “I didn’t say I had chamomile.”She looks at me suspiciously.
“Oh—I mean, I’d love some if you had it.It’s my favorite type of tea.”I say, quickly trying to recover from my slip-up.
“Oh, really?It’s mine too,” she replies excitedly.“I just got this new brand the other day.It’s been one of my favorites.”
“Hmm.”I turn my focus to the stove so I don’t accidentally let it slip that I was the one who picked up her new favorite tea.
Sara grabs a kettle from the cabinet, fills it with water, and places it on the burner next to the eggs.She hands me two plates from the cabinet, and I start plating our breakfast.Being here with her feels almost domestic, and I find that I am enjoying this feeling.I wish this was us every day.
“So, what do you have planned today?”she asks in between bites.
“I don’t have anything planned.”I smile at her, enjoying the food.It warms me to know she’s eating more than cereal and canned tuna.“What did you have in mind?”
“Well, we could have a lazy day in, binge-watch some shows, and then maybe you could hang out and watch me stream tonight?”Her voice trails off at the end, like she’s nervous.
“That sounds great to me.”I brush a piece of hair behind her ear.“Don’t be nervous, I’m excited to watch you in action.”
“Thanks.”She smiles softly.“Let me grab snacks and Sir Sloths-A-Lot, and we’ll get started.”
“Oh, is that his name?”I gesture to the sloth sitting beside her on the counter.
“Yup, he’s my emotional support buddy.”
I chuckle.“I knew you’d like him when I saw him.”The moment the words were out of my mouth, my eyes instantly snap to hers.
Her eyes widen.“What do you mean when ‘you saw him’?”
“I—” I start, but I’m at a loss for words.
She looks at me expectantly, her expression calm, her eyes giving nothing away.
I put my fork down, turning fully to her, and take a deep breath.Just do it, rip it off like a band-aid.
“I’m your DoorDash shopper,” I confess, immediately cringing at the words.
“I’m sorry—what?”Her voice jumps an octave.
Clearing my throat, I stuff my hands into my pockets.“I’m the one who’s been delivering to you these past few weeks.”
Realization flashes across her face.“The soup?”
“I made it,” I admit quietly.“I didn’t think you should be eating canned soup while you were sick.I should’ve told you sooner—I know that—but—” I trail off when I really see her expression.The warmth drains from her eyes, replaced by anger.
“Get.Out.”
“Sara, please.”I take a step towards her, but she retreats.
“No.”Her voice is steady, unyielding.“I want you out.Now.”
Defeated, I gather my things and head towards the door, preparing for my walk of shame home.Before leaving, I turn back toward the kitchen, taking one last look at her.The pain in her eyes broke my heart.
I did that.
