too many questions. You should rest. The drugs are in your system, they’ve been drugging you all this time. Try to get some rest. I’ll keep watch,” she says.
All this time. How long have I been here? How long have these people had me?
I fix my gaze on her hazel eyes. They look innocent, but upon looking deeper there’s a wisdom you wouldn’t expect to find in such a young girl. Her brown skin is smooth, and her cheeks are slightly chubby, showing the youthfulness of her heart-shaped face.
Her dark hair is braided, reaching her shoulders. If it weren’t for the eyes, I’d think I was looking at an illusion of my younger self. I nod as my lid grows heavy.
I don’t have a choice in the matter. I still don’t remember much as I try to push through the fog. I lie down and close my eye, hoping that when I wake again this nightmare is over.
John
I open the door to my apartment and look at Missy on the other side. She looks at me with the saddest puppy eyes, and still, I feel like it’s all an act.
It’s been two weeks since the miscarriage. I’ve gone by her place to check on her a few times, but she’s been so hot and cold. Even her roommate has been acting funny.
“I have work to do. Can we do this some other time?” I say as I hold onto the door, not opening it further to welcome her in.
“I was hoping for only a few minutes of your time. I promise I won’t be long,” she replies.
I want to tell her, no, but I’m trying not to be a dick. There used to be times when I didn’t find her presence to be so annoying. With a sigh, I step back and allow her in.
“Can I get you anything?”
“Water please.”
I nod and head for the kitchen to pour her a glass. She wanders about my living room, looking at all of the photos. I get distracted as I watch her.
Trying my hardest to place what’s off to me, I narrow my eyes and home in. Missy is still attractive. None of that has changed.
She’s wearing her hair in long highlighted blonde locks this week. It’s not strange for her to go back and forth between brown and blonde.
Despite being around four months when she lost the baby, she’s still tight and fit. Long legs, toned arms…
Four months. Wait a minute, when was the last time we slept together? I start to do the math in my head.
“Are we still going to join your family for dinner next week?” she asks, pulling me out of my calculations.
“What?”
“The dinner with your family. I mean, you invited me before… I assumed we’d still be going.”
“Uh, yeah. I don’t know about that. I had planned to introduce you under different circumstances. Things have changed,” I reply as I walk over and hand her the glass of water.
“Oh.” She takes a sip of the water and sits. “I know my emotions have been all over the place. You know, with losing the baby and all, but I was sort of looking forward to meeting your family.”
The last thing I want is to get into another argument with her. I’ve been feeling completely drained dealing with all that is Missy. The little things that caused me to want to call it off before the pregnancy have only amplified.
She’s gritting on every nerve I have with the mood swings and signs of some real narcissism. For crying out loud, I showed up at her place in the middle of the night after she sent me a text that she was depressed and wished she had ice cream to drown her sorrows in.
When I arrived, she accused me of trying to check out her roommate who was sitting in the living room. At one point, I thought I had by the way she spun the shit. I almost felt guilty until I sleepily thought about it.
Needless to say, I turned right back around and left. I’m getting tired of the whiplash. None of this seems normal.
I want to ask Mom if I’m being insensitive, but if I open that box, Cassidy Black is going to want details, or she’ll beat them out of me. What do I know? Maybe Missy isn’t psycho. Maybe she needs a bit of time to deal with all of this before she can move on.
I sigh at my thoughts. “We have time. Nothing