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"Yeah, I thought I'd, um, surprise you." Kris didn't sound so smug now.
"You did that," I said. This explained the look Greta gave me. She must have seen him walk by a few dozen times, balloons in tow. Unless he sat here and blew them all up, one by one.
I took a deep breath. "Did you forget I hate balloons?" As a kid, I had one burst in my face. I'd been scared of them ever since.
Silence came over the line.
He cleared his throat. "You do?"
"Yeah, I do." Running away might be a better choice than standing inside my apartment, watching them float around across the couch and floor.
"Shit," Kris said.
"Yeah. It's not that I don't appreciate the gesture?—"
"I really screwed up, didn't I?" Kris sounded deflated, like I wished the balloons were.
"Yes," I said. "You did. First with her, then coming into my apartment without me knowing." I felt violated. I should haveinsisted he give me back his key. Honestly, I wished I never gave him one in the first place.
"And this— How the hell am I supposed to get rid of all of these things?" I couldn't exactly throw them all out the window, tempting as that was.
"I could come and help pop them?" he offered. He sounded as though he had one foot out the door already.
"No," I said quickly. "I'll manage. I—" I closed my eyes.
I had to speak these next words, but they were hard to say out loud.
"I don't want to see you again," I said firmly. "Not tonight. Not ever."
"Because I left balloons in your apartment?" Kris sounded bewildered and angry. "Come on, Ash, be reasonable. How was I supposed to know you hate balloons? Do you have any idea how much they cost?"
"You're going to play the victim card?" I asked, as calmly as I could manage.
He spluttered for a moment. "No, I just meant… Shit. I tried to do something romantic. You could at least say thank you."
"Thank you," I said sarcastically. "Thanks for getting naked and sticking your dick in another woman. Thank you for letting me catch you. Now I know how big an asshole you really are. I should have seen it sooner, but I was blind. I thought you loved me."
"I did love you," he insisted. "Idolove you."
"Shut up," I growled. "You don't know what love is. You might think you do, but some day you'll realise what we had was nothing but a lie. A comfortable, warm, stupid lie. We are done. Now, forever and after that."
"Ash—" He sounded desperate now. "Please."
"Go to hell." I disconnected the call and sagged back against the door. No wonder some people broke up with others via textmessage. That was the worst thing I ever had to do. Now it was done, I wanted to cry. In part, from relief. That was one lot of rubbish taken out.
Now what the hell did I do with those balloons? I didn't want to pop them all, but I wasn't sure I had a choice.
I bit my lip and thought for a moment before I came up with a solution so perfect it made me smile. First, I had to gather them up and stash them in the spare room for the night.
I opened the door and grabbed a broom to sweep them all inside. It took some doing. Several wanted to make an escape by hiding under the couch, or one of the side tables. One even hid behind the couch, the crafty bastard.
"I don't believe you don't all have minds of your own," I told them.
They bounced around in response and one in the corner popped.
I jumped and hurried to close the door behind me.
Finally more or less balloon free, I microwaved a soup for one, poured a glass of wine and flopped down on the couch.
