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No. He didn’t get to look at me like that. Not anymore.
I took a step forward.
He took a step back. Then another. He kept backtracking until there was no floor left behind him. Nevertheless, he persisted, bumping into the wall and banging his head against a paper towel dispenser. He rubbed the back of his head, and there was almost an urge to comfort him. To rub that ridiculous little bald spot of his, and ask if he was okay. His gaze lifted, starting at my feet, and ending at my face. I walked toward him, leaving only inches between us. He let out a whimper like he was a caged animal waiting to be devoured.
Luckily for him, I was in no mood for a snack.
“You have nothing to worry about,” I said. “I don’t fuck cowards.”
Tears were already welling in my eyes and I refused to let him see that he’d gotten to me. So, I walked. I walked out of the stockroom, and then out of the store. I wanted to keep walking until there was no road left in front of me. To walk until he was once again a distant memory from a different life.
REASON FOUR
I don’t know what you get up to when I’m not around.
Thenextmorning,Iwoke up to three missed calls. All local numbers. There were no voicemails, no texts, just three missed calls. When I called the first number back, it went straight to voicemail. The second number rang fourteen times before I finally hung up. I called the final number, and a woman with a husky voice answered.
“Well, it’s about damn time. Where are you? I was supposed to show you the registers today.”
“Huh? Who is this?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I stood and walked toward my dresser, cringing when I caught sight of myself. My eyes were still red and puffy from the night before.
“Forgot me already, doll?”
“Rhoda?”
“Rhonda,” she corrected me. “Seriously, kid. It’s your second day and you’re three hours late. Not a good look.”
“What? No, Gray fired me last night.”
“Mm-hmm, I knew it. No call-no show, my ass.” The phone made a rustling sound as if she was covering the receiver with her hand. Her words sounded muffled, but her attitude was clear. Rhonda-slash-Rhoda was in a mood. After a beat, her voice returned, clear and crisp. “Hold on, doll. Got someone that wants to talk to you.” She continued her little back and forth with whoever she was speaking with before handing the phone over.
“Kent?”
Gray. Gray on the phone. Gray saying my name like he had all the right in the world to say it. Like he fuckingownedit.
“Hey, G-Gray,” I sputtered, opening my bedside drawer and taking out his discarded photograph. God, his smile in that picture. The look of pure, undeniable love pouring out of him. That’s the Gray I wanted to remember. Not the Gray who’d stared at me in horror after we’d been caught in his childhood bed. Not the Gray who’d tried to bribe me to leave him alone in the employee restroom the night before.
“About last night.” His voice was quiet, like he was afraid Rhonda might overhear. “Can you just go? I can handle this myself,” he said—I assumed—to Rhonda.
“Listen—” I started before he cut me off.
“I’m sorry. I’m not proud of the way I acted. That’s not who I am. It’s not who I want to be. If you still want the job, it’s yours. Just come in today. Please?”
“So you can fire me again?” I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to style it into something that didn’t resemble a briar patch.
“Rhonda’s not going to let me off the hook unless you come back.”
“Fantastic management skills you’ve got there.” I pressed the speaker icon and set my phone on my dresser. Digging through the little bag that held the last of my luxuries, I pulled out a tube of eye cream that I’d been rationing for months. I squeezed the end of the tube with every bit of strength I had in me, just trying to get a tiny splotch to peek through. In the end, my efforts were rewarded when a droplet fell into my palm. “Yes!” I unnecessarily shouted into the air.
“Is that a ‘yes’ you’ll come in or ‘yes’ you’re having a seizure?”
I dabbed the cream under my eyes and spread it across with my pinkie. “Yes.”
“That really clears it up,” he said with a chuckle.
“Yes,” I said again, and then, “Gray, I meant what I said last night.” I pulled out my best cologne, spritzing it twice on my neck and once on my wrist. “I’m not here for that.” I walked to my closet, picking the tightest slacks I could find. “I’m not here for you. That’s not why I’m home.”
“I know.”
