Chapter 37
2013words
Between work and my personal life, it wasn't something that I had the chance to do alot. Frankly, it wasn't something that I enjoyed doing. I only did it when I was super stressed and needed to clear my head.
But considering that I hadn't done it in a very long time...well, it explained why I was panting for air just thirty minutes into the run.
Slowing to a stop, I leaned against the wall of a tall building, doubling over and bracing my hands on my knees as I struggled to catch my breath. When I heard the sounds of footsteps fast approaching, I straightened and plastered on a fake smile as though I gave a fuck whoever this person was.
As if I wasn't seconds away from crumbling to the ground in a heap of sweat and messy thoughts.
The owner of the footsteps I'd heard jogged past. It was a female jogger and she hadn't even spared me a glance.
I swiftly went back to bracing my hands on my knees and breathing out through my mouth, my head clouded with worries, thoughts I hadn't succeeded in getting rid of even with my run.
Mom.
Alex.
Thankfully, Jo hadn't left us alone for the remainder of my visit, else it would have been unbearably awkward and uncomfortable for the both of us. By us, I meant mom and I. I'd ended up leaving without giving her a hug—which I usually did—and it was Jo that had walked me to the front porch—which mom usually did.
The poor teenager had probably felt the tension in the air between us, so she'd filled the silence up with talk about Miami. She'd hesitated slightly when she'd walked me to the front porch and I'd known that she wanted to ask what was up, but she never found the courage to—which was good because I hadn't wanted to talk about it. I still didn't.
I really wanted to stop thinking about it. Needed to. But the thoughts just wouldn't leave me the fuck alone.
I had my own shit to deal with. I didn't have to worry about my mother—who obviously didn't want me to worry about her, mind you— on top of everything else. It was an unwelcome distraction, and I hadn't been able to focus on anything else ever since.
Then there was Alex.
That subject wasn't even something I wanted to touch with a ten foot pole, but I'd come to realise that it didn't matter whether I wanted to think about him or not. He was in my head, his presence, huge and powerful and impossible to ignore.
Between him and mother, I was positive that I was going to go crazy.
I guess the reason I ran whenever I was stressed was because it made me feel like I was running away from my problems in a sense. During that period of time, my attention was divided, my head was blissfully empty, the morning breeze was nothing short of soothing, and I had my headphones on, listening to therapeutic music.
Nothing could touch me during that time. But for some reason, it had stopped working—at least right now, it wasn't.
I didn't know how long I stayed there in that position, but it wasn't until I heard my phone ring that I pushed up, leaning fully against the building as I looked at the caller.
"Hi, Bales."
"Laura." Her voice was groggy and sleepy, proving that she'd just woken up, which made sense because it wasn't even 7am yet. "How are you?"
"I'm good. What's up?"
The day was starting to get brighter with every minute that passed, and I couldn't keep standing by the building without looking like a total creep if one of the occupants came out and saw me.
I began walking at a slow pace without a destination in mind, yet knowing that I couldn't go back home so soon. My head was still clouded and I wouldn't be able to focus on anything even if I tried.
There was some shuffling on her end, then I heard the unmistakable sound of spoon clanking against a ceramic cup. "I was making coffee and thought about you."
A rush of warmth accompanied her words, and right on its heels, was the answer to my destination problem.
Coffee.
I could go get coffee at any shop and stay there for a while. The change of scenery would no doubt clear my head—even if for a little while. And I wouldn't have to search for long, there was at least one coffee shop in each street.
"Why are you up so early?" Balery asked.
"The same reason I get up early every other single day, of course." My steps quickened now that I had a destination in mind. "I have to go to work."
"You're not going to work today," she said matter-of-fact.
"What do you mea—"
Shit.
That night in Miami when she'd come into my room to plunder me with questions about Alex, I'd told her that I'd take a day off after we arrived to rest before going back to work.
That I'd rather lie than tell her the truth about something so small just showed the kind of 'best friend' I was. I was ashamed of myself.
Shaking my head, I said, "Yeah, you caught me. I don't know why I even lied in the first place." A coffee shop came into sight and I hurried towards it. "I stepped out for a run."
"Oh." There was a pause. "What's wrong?"
She asked the question softly. So softly that it caused a lump of emotion to form in my throat.
I lied.
There was a reason I hadn't told her the truth. It was because I knew she would worry.
Balery knew that I ran whenever I was stressed—we were roommates before she met Jack and moved out—and she would want to know what was wrong and help in any way that she could. She always did.
But she couldn't help.
I stepped to the side to let a woman pass, before entering the shop. "It's nothing, Bales. It's been a while since I ran, you know. Plus, I need to lose the extra weight I gained from doing literally nothing in Miami."
You'd be surprised how easily lies came once you'd already started it. It was like I'd pushed an 'ON' button and now, they wouldn't stop pouring out of me.
"Laura—"
"I just entered a coffee shop and the coffee here smells divine." I cut her off. "I think I just found a new spot for us."
"Really?"
From her tone, she knew what I was doing but but was just trying to go along with it.
Don't get me wrong. It wasn't that I didn't want to tell Balery about the things that plagued me. It definitely wasn't that I liked keeping secrets. It's just that there was literally nothing she could do to help me and telling her about it would be pointless.
It would only cause her to worry for nothing and what would be the point in that? What was the point in bringing something out in the open when nothing would be done about it?
"Yeah, it's..." My eyes travelled the little shop. "Small and cozy. Warm." A small smile touched my lips when I spotted a table by the corner that had a direct view of the street. "It's actually kind of cute," I told her, entering the queue to place my order.
The line wasn't that long, so it moved pretty quickly. I assumed the good customer service also contributed to that too.
It got to my turn in no time and I paid, glad that I'd shoved some bills into the pocket of my joggers before leaving. I didn't go anywhere without cash—it was a habit I'd developed after an embarrassing experience in uni.
As I made my way to the spot I'd marked earlier, I realised that Balery had fallen silent. "Bales, you still there?"
Chair scraped along the floor. "Yes. Yes. You were ordering and I didn't want to interrupt. Also, I think Jack just woke up."
"Oh, the latest groom in town. Say hi to him for me." I took a sip of my coffee and placed it on the table. "Also, realistically, how long do you think your honeymoon is going to last?"
She'd said two weeks before, to which I'd responded that there was no way Jack was going to let her go back to work that quickly—which was what actually happened. Two weeks had turned into a month, which was now turning into two and none of them were talking about going back to work yet.
I wasn't going to lie, it amazed me how they could be with each other 24/7 everyday and not tire of seeing each other's faces. Sometimes, I wanted to ask her but always held myself back at the last minute because I knew she would go into a long epistle about love and I did not want to hear it.
"This week is the last."
I snorted. "Famous last words. You said that a—"
"Is this seat taken?" A deep voice interrupted me. I looked up only to find a guy standing there, his hand braced on the second chair at the table.
"It obviously isn't," I answered.
Glancing around, I saw that there were a few other empty tables, just like I'd suspected. He'd decided to come here because he wanted to hit on me and for some reason, the thought wasn't appealing at all.
Stealing a glance up at him, I catalogued his features.
He was tall, brown-haired, with brown eyes to match. He was actually drop dead gorgeous, now that I was actually looking at him, and his cheekbones were to die for. He had a runners body, long and lithe, and from the way his cheeks flushed, he'd caught me looking.
Not in the least bit affected, I grabbed my phone, unlocked it, and started scrolling through Picturegram. I had Balery on headphones so it didn't affect the call.
I wasn't doing anything important—I was liking and responding to comments on my posts—I just wanted to discourage him from striking conversation with me.
Balery was suspiciously quiet and I knew it was because she'd caught on to what was happening.
The entire thing was painfully awkward—for him, not me. I busied myself on my phone. He tried to make small talk twice and when he eventually got the memo that I wasn't interested, he slid away with a murmured "Good talk."
"Oh my God, what was that?" Balery guffawed the second he walked away.
I couldn't hold back the grin that spread across my face. "I think he was going to ask for my number."
"Well, why didn't you encourage him?" She couldn't hide the curiosity in her voice even if she'd tried. "What did he look like?"
"Tall. Very handsome. Had eyes like melted chocolate and killer cheekbones." It was after listing his features out loud that I realised with a start that he was the type of guy I usually hooked up with.
He was handsome, available and interested in me, all three things that mattered. Why had I pushed him away?
"He sounds like your type," Balery confirmed what I already knew. "So why weren't you interested?"
"I just...wasn't." I said lamely.
She hesitated before saying, "Do you think Alex has something to do with it?"
I snorted so hard, I was surprised coffee didn't come out from my nose. "Please. He has absolutely nothing to do with this."
He didn't.
He couldn't.
I simply wasn't interested in the brown-eyed man and that was that. It definitely wasn't because of someone who still hadn't texted me since we arrived even though he'd undoubtedly had several chances to.
I mean, how busy could he possibly be?
Busy or not, he had no influence in my lack of interest and that was the truth.
It was.
