Unbelievable.
TWO
EVE
Savingmy craft supplies from a wily older neighbor less than five minutes after my boyfriend broke up with me isn’t how I pictured today going, but here I am.
“See?” She taps the writing on the box again when I’m too stunned to speak. “Free.”
“And I’m telling you it’s not.” I huff. “These are my things.”
I rescue the box by edging it behind me, then hold out my hand expectantly. The stubborn woman clutches the glue gun closer. For a moment, I debate how far I’ll go to fend her off.
Thankfully, she plops it in my palm with a grumble, saving me from becoming hot Heston Lake gossip for tackling the elderly like a completely unhinged lunatic.
“Should’ve taken it earlier,” she mutters. “Lucky you came when you did.”
“Um, right.”
With one last dour glance between me and the box I’m guarding, she toddles back to her apartment. Well, happy freaking holidays to her, too. I blink away my astonishment and throw a glare at Shawn’s door.
I wanted to talk to him. He’s definitely home. His car is parked outside.
Forget it. I just want to get out of here.
The situation is still hitting me as I put the glue gun back in the box, then skim the message he had locked and loaded to send me one more time. I don’t bother answering it.
Instead, I dig out my key and chuck it at his door, gratified by thethunk. There are muted noises inside, as if he came to investigate. The door doesn’t open. I narrow my eyes at his peephole.
Coward. Ugh, I shouldn’t be shocked after he broke up with me through a text.
This is officially a new low for me. I can’t believe him. What a fucking jerk.
We’ve been dating on and off since we met in college, but somehow we keep finding excuses to get back together. The last time we broke up after a fight, I at least had the decency to tell him to his face that I was done.
After this stunt, I’ll never cave to his middle of the night sweet talk about missing me again.
No dick is ever worth the inevitable heartache, and Shawn has brought me way more of that than he has orgasms.
I purse my lips, working to keep my breathing even. It becomes difficult as all his little criticisms hit me at once. Being with him used to be fun, but since we got back together all he does is rag on me for countless little things like how forgetful I can be, or when I struggle to manage my time, or how I’m incapable of sticking to a regular routine.
Those shortcomings are because my brain doesn’t work the same way as most people’s. I didn’t understand why until I was diagnosed with ADHD. Rather than listening to me, he’s been impatient whenever I hold us up.
My eyes sting as my vision blurs.
Shit. I won’t cry over him outside his damn apartment. I refuse. Especially if he’s still lurking to watch through thepeephole. No way in hell will I give him the show he must be waiting for.
Screw this andscrewhim.
With a shaky breath, I swallow to ease the lump constricting my throat, give his peephole the finger, and take the stairs to leave with my box.
I’m so focused on getting away once I’m outside, I can’t appreciate the satisfying crunch of brittle orange and yellow leaves dotting the brick walkway when I step on them. I keep my head down until I slam into something solid.
A wall of muscle stops me in my tracks.
Cheeks heating, I gasp, trying to keep my balance without dropping my best craft supplies.
Despite my determination to plow my way right through town to the safety of my own space before shedding a single tear over Shawn…turns out I can’t, in fact, go through physical objects.
