No, that’s the behavior that got me into trouble before. If she needs space, I have to respect that.
I wait up that night, hoping that she will come out so we can talk, but when she doesn’t, I assume she just wanted an early night and resolve to talk to her in the morning. When I wake, though, it’s to a text stating she left earlier with Lacey and won’t be home until late.
My feelings swiftly twist into annoyance, and I have to work hard to balance myself. I still carry a lot of guilt over disrupting Trina’s life, and the events from the night before were obviously traumatic, only adding to the damage.
But we were finally getting somewhere. I jumped right in and protected her—surely that has to count for something?
Even though I keep myself steady through the rest of the day, my emotions are beginning to spike later that night when Trina has come home but gone straight to her room, barely acknowledging me on her way.
I manage to live through a couple of days of this before my emotions begin to get out of control. As a final effort, I get up early, make breakfast, and set the table with some tulips, which Sadie said were Trina’s favorites.
Trina practically runs through the house from her bedroom to the front door, barely pausing to acknowledge me as she waves goodbye and runs out to meet Lacey. I stand on the front step, watching them go, finding it pretty convenientthat she’s also spending time with her human friend—meaning, I can’t possibly bring up the other reasons for our partnership.
If it were Sadie picking her up, I might have chased Trina across the lawn and tackled her.
I shake my head, wondering if I actually would, and knowing my emotions are strung out enough that it’s a definite possibility. I clean up the uneaten breakfast, leaving the tulips on the table.
Maybe she’ll notice them later. Maybe she won’t even care.
I go out to the infirmary, relieved that there are no new cases for now. None of the sick people have improved, though, and this adds to my agitation because I absolutely have to speak to Trina now, and I really don’t know how.
I’m so restless, I drive around for a bit, ending up at the museum. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m standing out front, looking up at the big double doors, trying to compose myself so I don’t go in there like Caesar on a rampage.
Cornering her at work is a dick move. It means she can’t speak freely or make a scene—but what else can I do? If I wait, she’ll just keep running away, and we have to do something.
As I walk inside, my anxiety cools. It’s a relief to have finally made the decision to confront her. No matter what happens now, the situation has to change.
I don’t even care if it changes for the better or not. I just can’t take another day of her running away from me, especially when I don’t even know why.
My mind runs over the events again, and I try to identify where I could have screwed up. From my perspective, all I did was care for her and protect her, making every attemptto respect her wishes, and she suddenly reverted to her old behavior for absolutely no reason.
As I come in the main doors, I see Trina sitting at the reception desk, talking on the phone. She’s wearing a bright smile as she takes a booking and chats warmly with the person on the other end. I realize that it’s her job to be friendly, but it still leaves me faintly jealous that a complete stranger is getting more attention than I am.
“Okay, thanks,” Trina says. “We’ll see you then, bye!”
She hangs up the phone and makes a note on the computer, turning to me with a smile that lights up her eyes, that curious shade of blue green like a secret tropical bay shimmering in the glow of an afternoon sun.
“Oh, hi,” she says, her voice falling flat as the light dims from her eyes. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
My chest aches a little as part of me begs for that warmth to come back, but now that I’m standing right in front of her, the need to know what’s going on overpowers everything else.
“Trina, I need to talk to you.”
“It will have to wait. I’m at work.”
“I realize that, but you’ve made it extremely difficult to talk the last few days, so I felt this was the best thing to do.”
“You thought wrong,” she says, looking up at me with cold eyes as she reaches for the phone. “I’m really busy, so—”
“Owen?” a surprised voice sounds behind me.
“Angela?” I ask, just as surprised. I turn around to see her walking towards me, a big smile on her perfectly painted ruby lips.
“Oh my God!” she says. “It’s been years. How have you been?”
“Great,” I say, lying through my teeth.
Angela comes up to me and puts her hands on my shoulders, giving me a squeeze as she leans in to kiss my cheek. She’s so tall—and also wearing high heels—that her face is even with mine. As she pulls away, I catch the scent of her perfume rising from her skin.
