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I interrupt quickly. “You were in Philly? You went through my desk?”
“Of course, I went to fucking Philly. You seemingly went missing, of course, I went through your desk. If you were dead or kidnapped, I didn’t think you’d mind. But since your father didn’t seem worried and was rather dismissive of me...”
I walk closer to him, and his volume increases. He went to Philly. I was worried he didn’t text, and he got on a plane to find me.
He continues, “...I surmised you’d been in contact with him. I’ve been to four Alan McGuire’s in Orange County. This was my last stop. You do not leave a trail!”
“But, you’re here.” I shuffle my feet and shake a little. It’s like I’ve been doused with cold water.
His arms are wide as he says, “Damn straight, I’m here. What went down is a whole separate issue. But you left our home with a vague note and no correspondence in six days.”
“Our home?”
“Yes.”
“But it’s not. It’s yours. I didn’t even know where an extra blanket would be kept. That part was true.” I see him try and interrupt me, “And yes, I know I was lying. But it’s still a true statement.”
“I’m not even sure what to fight about first.” He rubs his hands over his biceps like he’s cold. He does this when he’s thinking.
“We have so much to choose from,” I smirk.
He laughs. “Come to me.” He takes me in his arms, and I sob. He speaks softly as he rubs my back. “Even if we’re breaking up, you can’t ever disappear off the face of the earth. You’re a part of me. I was sick with worry and regret. If this was meant to punish me, job well done. I’ve never felt more helpless in my entire life. It was like a piece of me was missing.”
“This wasn’t about you. It was about protecting me.”
“Protecting you from me?” He removes his arms from me, and I realize I just fucked things up in a whole new way.
“Can we do this without an audience?”
“Explain yourself, then we’ll figure out where to fight.” His hands are on his hips, and I copy his stance.
“You dismissed my texts twice. You ignored me. I saw it. At first, I thought it would be funny to text. The second was to see if you’d do it again. When you ignored the sext, I wanted to see if you cared about my well-being. Your loving girlfriend, and what was it you called me, your heart, ignored.”
He shuffles his feet, and I say, “You didn’t even bother to send a fucking emoji. You dismissed me. Your message was loud and clear. It’s also clear you lied before about working late. My mind went—”
“Spiraling,” he says in a low voice, still looking at his worn Nike running shoes.
“That’s beside the point. You didn’t care enough to call me out on my stupid petty game or let me know if you were coming home. I regret seeing and doing that, but I was more afraid of your apathy than the consequences. You didn’t follow me home, and you didn’t text or call. Your inaction was brutally painful. I wasn’t ready to learn I’d been cast aside. I kept my phone off and hid from the pain and from you.”
“Well, it seems you’re not hiding now.”
“I need a shower, and we need a drink and some space to fight.”
He smiles a bit, and it’s sweet and tortured. “I agree. And I love you, always think you’re gorgeous, but you’re filthy, girl.”
“It’s your fault.”
He shrugs. “I guess it is. That’s the only thing I’m taking the blame for.” We both laugh and head up to my brother’s condo. We’re flirty and cute, but we both know there’s an earth-shaking epic fight looming. “I don’t care how dirty and disgusting you are; your ass always looks good in gym wear.”
I turn around. “Thank you for coming to find me.”
“I’m so relieved you’re not dead, so I can scream at you.”
“I’m happy you cared enough to find me to scream at me.” He steps up to the step below mine, and we’re face to face. It’s not a usual occurrence since he’s so tall. We kiss very sweetly, but chastely. This isn’t an apology. It’s an armistice.
“I have to text a few people if it’s alright with you. People who actually care where your selfish ass is.”
“What are you talking about? Text whoever you want.”
