Page 92 of Toxic Kiss

“That’s enough,” the cashier says. “I want all of you to leave. We don’t allow harassment of other customers in this store,” she says, pointing to the door.

“Ugh, whatever. The stuff in here is shit anyway,” they mutter before stomping out in a huff.

“Thanks,” I say, my hands shaking as I put the last of the items in my arms on the counter. “Just these.”

The shaking refuses to stop. I bite my lip to focus on the PIN pad and punch in my code. Stepping out of the store, I clutch the bags and look to see if the mean girls are still here. Thankfully, they are gone.

My chest aches as I practically run to the parking lot. It feels just like high school all over again, and everyone is staring. Sweat breaks out on the back of my neck, and my breathing is erratic.

Jumping in my car, I toss the bags on the passenger seat and lock the door.

“Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. It’s just words, they can’t hurt you unless you let them.”

I close my eyes, but a tear slips free.

There are so many things that I thought I was over. I’m older, wiser, and stronger. But here I am hiding, shaking, and crying all over again.

“No, I’m not doing this again. I refuse.” I smack my hand off the top of the steering wheel.

Opening my eyes, I stare through the windshield, trying to gather the pieces of myself. Needing to speak to someone, I pick up my phone and call Charles.

He picks up on the third ring.

“Hey,” he says, but he sounds out of breath like he ran for the phone.

“You okay? You sound like you were working out.”

I glance at the time. It’s two in the afternoon on a Wednesday.

“Yup, just finished a round of golf,” he says.

“I thought you were back yesterday from your trip.”

“Haven, it’s a business trip. If the bosses want to stay longer, what am I supposed to do? Say no? What’s up?”

I nibble my lip.

“I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you.”

His silence is somehow laced with annoyance. It is all I ever seem to do. Annoy him.

“That’s it? That’s why you called and interrupted my trip?”

“Yeah. I’m having a bad day, and I want to speak to my fiancé. I didn’t realize that was a crime. Besides, I thought you were already back. Remember?”

He takes a deep breath like he needs patience.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that I had to step away from the table, and the guys are staring at me. I’m sorry you’re having a crap day.”

“Thanks. Can we talk tonight? I can FaceTime, and we can pick some of the wedding stuff together.”

“No, I’ll be out late. We have a dinner meeting, then drinks after. You know how it goes.”

I rub my forehead as another headache threatens.

“Charles, do you even want to marry me?”

“Haven, of course I do. It’s just not that simple, and I’m sick of you pulling this guilt trip crap on me,” he growls. “I can’t make any major decisions about our wedding right now, so stop asking. I’ll get to it when I get to it.”