And then it lands.
The words knock the air out of me. I drag in a breath that burns, like one lung’s on fire and the other forgot how to work. I don’t fight it.
The tears spill out faster than I can stop them.
I don’t want to be alone right now. I need him. Not just anyone, him. But that’s out of the question. He shouldn’t see me like this.
Still… God, I need a friend.
I pull out my phone, fingers hovering over his name in my contact list. I stare, hesitate. Then I set it down again. I can’t. I need to set boundaries. I just can’t.
I’ll be fine. Maybe not tonight, but the sun will rise tomorrow, and with it, the illusion that time heals everything.
So I distract myself with a breathing exercise. It helps. It always does.
Seven seconds to inhale. Seven seconds hold. Seven seconds to exhale. Repeat.
Inhale, hold. Then exhale. Repeat. Again. And again. One more time. Exhale.
I dry my tears, swallowing the last one down. Then I sink lower into the couch, letting my head rest against the crook of my folded elbow. I lie on my side, facing the book and the guava on the table. A wry smile tugs at my lips.
These silent witnesses hold good memories to ground me, and that’s enough for now to feel a little peace.
My eyes fall shut, the physical exhaustion taking over.
It’s only when I’m nearly asleep that a knock at the door wakes me up.
My eyes flutter open. I hold my breath.
A second round of knocking follows. This time it sounds faster, and certainly more urgent.
I sit up fast. What do I need to do?
It feels like a truck ran over my head, the last thing I want right now is to get a pile of administration handed to me from the back office.
“Yosh, can you please let me in? I know you’re there.”
My heart skips at the sound of his voice. Okay, this is different. It’s him.It’s him!
My body’s generator suddenly kicks in, and before I realize it, I’m sprinting to the door, afraid he’ll be gone if I’m not there fast enough.
I take a few seconds to adjust my hair, to part it the right way and tug a loose strand behind my ear. My palm wipes the last traces of dried tears and exhaustion from my eyes.
I open the door, forcing a smile with all the effort I have left, but the moment I see the fury on his face, I’m frozen to the ground.
Something is terribly wrong.
Tom storms inside and stops in the middle of the room, his eyes darting around, filled with rage, but landing on nothing in particular.
This isn’t the Tom I know at all.
His gaze is always soft, usually fixed on me like my playful puppy. Now he’s showing me the flipside.
The inferno in his eyes warns me he’s seconds away from tearing this place down.
“Tom?” My voice cracks. “Are you alright? What’s going on?”
I set my hands on his shoulders. He shrugs me off.
