Page 10 of Abundance of Obsession

“Unfortunately, yes. I completely forgot about it. Sorry.” Where the hell is my T-shirt?

As I step out of the bathroom, she’s sitting on the bed in some strange position that brings yoga to mind. “You forgot?!”

“Sorry, honey. If I’d remembered, I would’ve rescheduled.”

Finally, after an awkward moment of glaring, my companion snorts and gets up. Throwing on a top and shorts, she adds, “Your loss. We could’ve done this all night.”

“Definitely. Maybe I’ll call sometime.” No way! Fuck. I’ll never call. Why am I even trying to soothe her hurt feelings?

“Don’t bother.”

Thank God.

She walks out of the bedroom into the hallway and to the front door. I would like to say it’s a gracious gesture to see a guest out as I follow in her footsteps. But I just want to make sure she’s gone and the door is locked behind her.

She leaves without a word, the door finally slams shut. I lean against it and take a deep breath.

“Jesus Christ.”

Moments later, I step out of the shower and can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong with me. Dead wrong.

A beautiful, willing woman was lying in my bed. Any guy in my shoes would be over the moon. Yet in my mind, there were things about her that bothered me.

Because of all that, I didn’t come. Wasn’t even close. That pisses me off more than it should.

What’s wrong with me?

The stress brought on by the whole situation with the Pact is inevitable. But is that the reason?

I put on a fresh T-shirt to sleep in and sit back down on the bed.

A sense of disgust with myself hits me with force. I need to change the sheets before I lie down again. But not just yet.

I enjoy the silence. Such a heavy, bitter silence.

My phone vibrates again.

With a sigh, I grab it and answer the call. It’s not me who speaks first. Instead, I hear his voice. My father’s voice.

“Hi, Eli. How are you, son?”

How is it even possible for these six words to piss me off on the spot? It’s beyond me, but it’s so real.

“Everything’s fine. What do you want?” For a brief moment, the snarl destabilizes him.

“I’d like to meet. Talk. We need to talk.” His voice is uncertain.

“I’m busy. When I find a moment, we’ll meet.”

We both know I’m lying. I’m not that busy, and I have no intention of meeting him. I haven’t seen him in over five years. And yet, throughout all this time, he hasn’t stopped trying to get in touch with me now and then. He just doesn’t get it. What was before should die and stay buried.

When my father doesn’t give up after all, I clench my jaw. “I’m back in town for good. It’ll be easier for us to find time now. This weekend?”

I shut my eyes. I didn’t know he’d returned from his world travels. Actually, how would I have known?

“Sorry. A meeting on the coast. Business.” Another lie. That’s a lot of lies for one day.

“Yeah, okay. No problem. Perhaps the following week, then?”