Maybe if we get better, if I can somehow make sense of her foolish actions, we’ll go on that trip we talked about, alone on an island off thecoast of Belize. I’m sure the freckles I love so much would return within a week, with maybe more on the rest of her.
But as much as it hurts, I’m not sure we’ll ever get there. That fantasy vacation we built together might remain just that.
A fantasy.
Lex slept in one of the guest rooms, and it stings.
I left the lamp on last night, so he could easily navigate the room and join me in his bed. But no, he chose to sleep in a different room. That’s how much he doesn’t want to be with me. And I know he came during the night, because upon waking up this morning, the light was off.
Maybe it’s a good thing I have to head to work today. It’ll give us some time apart, which, as painful as it is to admit, we need.As if enduring three months apart wasn’t hard enough…
When he comes out, I’m at the high counter of the kitchen island, blowing on a steaming cup of coffee I’m holding with both hands.
“Good morning,” I say, trying to be cheerful.
A few beats and then he grumbles, “’Morning.”
He heads straight to the coffee machine, and, finding the pot half empty, he turns to me to stare at my cup with a frown. “Is that coffee?”
“Yes, I’ve developed a taste for it. I still use a lot of sugar, but I rather enjoy it now.”
My answer receives a vague “Hmm,” and then he decides he’s pissed at me again. I watch from my vantage point as he takes a few things out to prepare his breakfast.
“Did you sleep well?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Hm… So the bed in the guest room is nice?”
“Yes.”
Not wanting to press him too much, I give him a moment before asking, “Do you feel ready to talk?”
“No.”
I bite down on the inside of my cheek to hide my deception.
While his four eggs are frying in the pan, he looks into the fridge for something. “If there’s anything you need, I can make a stop on my way back from work,” I offer.
“You’re coming back?”
Not taking his icy tone personally is getting harder and harder. “Yes, of course.”
“Yesterday, you said leaving early would be humiliating. But you spent the night, so it’s fine now, isn’t it?”
My tone is cold and detached, like his, when I say, “No.”
“And what’s your excuse this time?”
His words hurt more than they should, but I hide it. “I want to be with you, which was also my excuse yesterday.”
Annoyance flashes on his face, and he finally turns to look at me. “Is this your plan? Disrespecting my wishes all the time?”
“No, not all the time. Only when you’re being a stubborn ass.”
The beard eating away at the lower half of his face makes it harder to read him. But his somber stare is impossible to misinterpret. We both stay silent as he finishes preparing his breakfast. Eggs, bacon, toast… There’s enough to feed two people there. Did they starve him in Sheridan?
It certainly doesn’t look like it. He looks more muscular than he ever did. His T-shirt fits tighter than it used to, and even with it on, I could count every single muscle on his back. His arms got bigger, too. The sleeves strain around the bulging muscle, and the veins in his forearms catch the light of the extractor.
