“Alright. I’m here if you need me.”
“Appreciate that,” I say, then end the call, placing the phone on the bar next to my empty glass.
chapter twelve.
cyn
Ihad noidea the evening was going to take such a drastic turn. I’ve never seen Brix this angry. When I moved out, he showed no emotion. His temperament was as even as four divided by two. That’s his personality, I know, but the emotions he displayed tonight – even the wetness in his troubled eyes tore at my heart. What shattered it was when he told his parents I hated him. He said it because, in his mind, his heart, he truly believes it. It couldn’t be further from the truth. I want to tell him that face-to-face, but he left, and I have no idea where he is.
I get up from the bed, move the sheer curtains, and look through the blinds out into the front yard. Brix’s Porsche isn’t in the driveway.
I walk to the bathroom, staring at my weary eyes and the faint lines of tears that have streaked down my face. I twist the knob of the hot water, letting the warmth run into my hands before splashing it onto my face as I try to hide the evidence of my sadness. After patting my face dry with a cotton towel, I get some tissue and blow my nose.
How did we get here? I suppose the question I should be asking is, how can we get back to where we were?
I draw in a long, slow breath. Through blurred vision, I pick up my phone and try to steady my hand as I type him a message:
Where are you?
I return to sit down on the bed, waiting to see if he’ll even respond. He doesn’t right away. I close my eyes, prompting a tear to escape. The silence in the room causes more trepidation. Each second I wait stretches longer than the one before. This is killing me, but I can only imagine how he feels after having to defend himself against his parents, especially his mother, while at the same time trying to keep everything together - trying to keepustogether even if it was by deceptive means.
My phone buzzes in my hand. Finally, a message.
The ruse is over now. You can leave.
That’s not why I’m texting you, Brix.
It’s over, Cyn. I told them. You’re free. Go. Be your happy, merry self without me like you’ve been doing. I’m good.
I need to talk to you.
We’re talking now, are we not?
We’re texting. I need to TALK to you face to face
That’s not a good idea.
Why not?
Just be gone when I get there.
Brix, I’m not leaving until we talk.
Thanks for the warning.
No other messages came through after that, and I didn’t expect any. Brix is infuriated. I can feel his heavy masculine energy through the phone as if he’s right here with me. I’ve neverfelt it so potent. So infiltrating. Something broke in him tonight, and if it doesn’t get fixed soon, I’m not sure if it ever will.
I get upin the morning to discover that Brix isn’t home, and I don’t think he came home at all last night. I get in the shower and get dressed, preparing to head out to do some shopping with Faith. I’m not sure if she’s still up for it after what happened, but I guess I’ll find out soon.
I get my answer when I come downstairs and see her sitting ruminatively on the sofa in the living room with her purse on the table.
“Good morning, Faith.”
It takes almost two business days for her to turn around and look at me, but once she gets that neck primed and ready for movement, she says, “Hey, Cynnamon.”
I step around the sofa where she’s sitting and sit on the opposite end.
She says, “Chile, I got up this morning and fixed some coffee, but after last night, I don’t have any interest in going shopping or doing anything else. I just want to know what’s really going on between you and Brix. I couldn’t even sleep last night. Are you two really separated, Cyn?”
