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After his mom and I separated, we’ve grown into a pattern of watching soccer together, reading, playing some fun games around the house and doing stuff together. I don’t want to lose that with him, I can’t do that to him either. He’s all I’ve got; the only person apart from my parents I can lean on one hundred percent.
I fill my cup with coffee and pace the kitchen, flexing my fingers as the hot drink slides down my throat.
I want things to be right, fighting with Eli isn’t going to achieve that. Maybe I should call it off with Felicity? Or maybe come clean with Father and just accept whatever position he hands to me.
Amelia will be off our backs too because just like Eli, she’s certain I’ll not be able to juggle between work, a romantic relationship and a family.
Maybe they’re right to feel that way. I mean, I messed up once. What are the chances that this time will be different?
The muscle at the base of my neck tightened as an array of thoughts occupy my mental space.
God, I need to get a grip. I need to be on the right track at this point in my life. I need--
I close my eyes, trying to push aside the worries that have plagued my mind. I reach for my cell phone to call Felicity. At work today, we didn’t say much to each other. Perhaps she knows that this isn’t working, that it’s some big mess we’re rolling in and dragging everyone into it.
God, Eli. He was polite when he saw me, but then, he hadn’t uttered more than a few words.
My chest tightens momentarily, for the briefest moment, I find it difficult to breathe. My thumb hovers over Felicity’s contact number. I heave a deep sigh and press it then put it on speaker.
No.
I end the call. Heart thrumming, I dump the mug in the sink, grab my car keys from the table, and dash toward the front door.
I pull up in front of Felicity's apartment building three minutes after eight. Today is my second time here; the first time was the morning after dinner with my parents. Her car is parked beside a pickup truck, an older man is leaning on its hood, his white-blonde hair tucked into a baseball cap. I make my way to him, hands tucked into my pockets.
"Hey, what's up?"
He frowns, roaming his hazel eyes across my face and then downwards. His lips curve in a small smile, then he nods, as if in approval.
"I saw you the other day with Ms. Goleman. You're her boyfriend, eh?"
Am I?
I offer a shrug and a nod simultaneously, which prompts the man in front of me to chuckle.
"I got nothing against it. I just hope you're not another psycho because the boys and I wouldn't hesitate to smash your pretty face in. You hear me?"
I don't know if I should be pleased that she's got people looking out for her around here or pissed that the man is threatening me without hesitation. But then, I manage a nod and gesture at the building with my index finger.
"I'm hoping you could point her apartment out to me?"
His brows knot in confusion. He peers into my face like he's trying to see through me, then he clicks his tongue.
"You're not the boyfriend then. Is she expecting you?"
What the hell! How hard is it to just give me the fucking number?!
"We just spoke a few minutes ago and I just want to surprise her with this gift I got from the store."
His gaze lowers to my empty hands. I sigh.
"It's in my car. I'll appreciate it if you--"
"201. And yo! I'll be keeping my ears open and my finger at the ready to call the boys’ contacts. You hear me?" He tosses me a smug grin and waves me off.
I chuckle, wondering who this old guy is.
I jog over the stairs and then take the steps two at a time. It's a nice building, neat and quiet. The long hallways shine brightly, and the scent of lavender permeates the air. I scan the numbers on the second floor for 201.
