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JOSIE
I’m restocking my fridge, when I hear a knock on the door. I jump, smacking my head against the edge of the freezer. Wincing, I rub my head. I’ve never been this jumpy. Another thing I can personally thank Elliot for.
“Josie? Hey.”
Twisting, I see Nick hovering in the doorway and I feel my veins fill with dread. I think back to Jess seeing me earlier. Has she called him? I wouldn’t be surprised. It’s like four years ago all over again.
“Nick! What are you doing here?”
His brows furrow. “To see you?”
I straighten, shutting the fridge door. My hands fall to my sides, and we stare at each other for a few moments. I wait for the other shoe to drop. Is he going to shout at me? Plead? Cry? I don’t know what response would be worse.
“I’ve tried calling,” he says. “Are you avoiding me?”
“I’ve been busy.”
His frown deepens. “Right … Okay.”
“I’ve started a new course,” I continue, studying him and deciding that he doesn’t know. Not yet, anyway. “And working. It’s been a lot. Sorry.”
His face softens. He leans on the kitchen bench. His leaf-green eyes are wide and curious. I can’t bear to stare at them any longer.
“How is it all going?”
“It’s good, I might need to work on my time management though.” I try to joke. “How have you been?”
“Yeah, busy as well,” he says, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. “Did you hear the good news?”
I rack my brain for a moment before I realise.
“Shannon and John?”
“Yeah.” He smiles. “Isn’t it great?”
“I’m really happy for them,” I agree. “The engagement party sounds fun!”
“Yeah, it does. It’s next weekend, which I think is really quick.” He laughs. “She’s just posted the event.”
“Wow, she doesn’t muck around.” I comment. “I haven’t had a chance to check my phone yet.”
“I thought we could go together.”
“Yeah, well, everyone is going.”
He blinks at me. “Uh, right. Yeah. That’s true.”
I continue pulling items from my shopping bags, just to have something to do.
“Well. I’ll see you later …”
It’s so awkward, I want to slam my head into my cupboard and knock myself out, just to escape this conversation. His eyes fall to my hands. I look down at them, seeing paint speckled over my skin. When I glance back up, Nick’s is staring at the canvas. My stomach sinks.
He continues staring at the canvas, and then turns back to me. He stands there, as if waiting for me to say something.
“Nick …” I start to say before his phone begins to blare. I wince at the loudness and he sends me an apologetic look.
“I need it loud to hear over the machinery. I forget to turn it down when I’m not working,” he explains. “See you, Josie.”
