I press my nails into my thighs harder, but it's not enough.
It's never enough.
I mumble, "I don't want to be the reason he leaves work."
Demi answers, "He cares more about you than work. He gave you the code word for a reason."
That's the problem. He did it because he knows me. He sees me.
He still stays.
For how long?
More panic pummels me.
Loving me costs people too much.
My red phone cover catches my eye. It still sits on the coffee table.
Green.
If I text it, he'll come. If I don't, I might shatter. What cost is greater?
The buzzing spikes so hard, my vision tunnels.
I rush to the phone and grab it before I can talk myself out of it. My fingers shake so badly, I mistype.
Me: Greeb.
I delete.
Me: Greem.
I delete again and try again.
Me: GREEN.
I hit send before I can analyze it. The message whooshes away. Then there's silence.
Demi exhales slowly like she's been holding her breath for ten minutes. She praises, "Good. That's good, Blue."
My chest heaves in short breaths. The buzzing grows more insistent.
It takes less than ten seconds.
Red: On my way.
The relief that hits is sharp and humiliating all at once. My knees buckle, and I drop back onto the couch. The buzzing grows more frantic. I press my face into the pillow, saying over and over, "Go away."
Demi strokes my back, assuring, "He'll be here soon."
The condo feels too small, bright, and loud all at once.Salt & Steelis still playing on the TV, and some chef is shouting about reductions.
"Turn it off," I gasp, lifting my head from the pillow.
Demi lunges for the remote. The screen goes black.
Silence crashes down, but it's so much worse.
