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The message ends there.
His words hit me in the gut.
Our baby.
I hug my arms around my waist, feeling very small and very alone.
I can't keep ignoring him.
But I can't seem to face him either.
I'm not ready.
* * *
Over the nextcouple of days, I put up walls around myself, creating a fortress to shield me from the world – especially Hunter.
I pick up my phone and dial.
"Human Resources, this is Sarah speaking, how can I assist you?"
"Hey, Sarah, It's me." I try to sound as miserable as possible. "Got hit by the flu. It's like a tiny, sadistic army is launching an all-out war inside my body. I think it's best if I work from home for the next few days, you know, to avoid turning the office into a mini pandemic ground zero."
"Oh, that sounds awful. I hope you feel better soon. I'll let Hunter know."
"Thanks, Sarah." I hang up the phone, feeling a bit of guilt for the pathetic white lie. But desperate times call for desperate measures.
I am avoiding Hunter like the plague, using email and texts to communicate about work and nothing else.
From: Hunter Holmes
To: Maya Jensen
Subject: Project Update and...
Maya,
I hope this email finds you feeling better. Trust me, we're doing fine at the office avoiding the microscopic war you've hinted at. The Anderson project is progressing as planned. I've noticed a couple of issues that need your magic touch. See attached file.
Also, I can't help but notice that my text messages are living in some sort of limbo. Could you answer them, perhaps after work hours? There's some non-project-related stuff I'd really like to discuss with you.
Best,
Hunter
_____
From: Maya Jensen
To: Hunter Holmes
Subject: Re: Project Update and...
Hunter,
Thank you for the update. I'll delve into the Anderson project later today and see what can be done.
Stay healthy,
