One Week Girlfriend - By Monica Murphy Page 0,46
will literally bleed if we're ever separated.
A shuddering breath escapes me as I step out of the shower and hurriedly dry myself off. I sneak back into my bedroom and slip on an old pair of sweats and a T-shirt, then dive beneath my cold as ice sheets and pull the covers over me, my still hot body shivering from the difference in temperature compared to the chilled in the room.
I'm totally exhausted and emotionally drained, but I don't sleep well for the rest of the night, tossing and turning, thinking of Drew all alone in the next room. I abandoned him. I let him down.
I'm no better than my mother.
With that realization, I cry.
Chapter Eleven
Day 5 (Thanksgiving), 12:55 p.m.
The more I push you away, the more I want you to push back. - Drew Callahan
Fable
"Mom's not making Thanksgiving dinner?" I ask incredulously, fighting the urge to rush outside and inhale a cigarette. My nerves are frazzled and my hands are literally shaking, but I only have two cigs left in my secret pack. The one that was full when I arrived here. I need to save them.
"Nope. She told me there was a frozen turkey dinner in the freezer from Marie Callender's if I wanted that. Otherwise, I'm on my own." Owen sounds disgusted and I don't blame him. "I guess she went out of town with Larry. He has a daughter or something and they were going to have turkey dinner there."
Unbelievable, that Mom wouldn't bother taking Owen with her. He's her son. Guilt eats at me for not being with Owen, but what else is new? I'm starting to think all the money in the world isn't worth this turmoil. My heart is in tatters, my brain is sluggish and my brother has been virtually abandoned on a holiday that our mother usually loves and goes overboard in celebrating.
Even though it's only been the three of us for so long, since my grandparents died within months of each other when I was eleven, my mom always makes a huge Thanksgiving dinner and invites everyone she can think of. Sometimes she'll have her current boyfriend in attendance. Other times, friends from the bar where she likes to hang out, the lonely stragglers who have no family to spend the day with.
My mom may have her faults - and she has a shit ton of them - but she always brings in the strays for the holidays. Doesn't like to see someone hurt and lonely.
Frowning, I shake my head. Yet she'll abandon her son. Never contact her daughter. Sometimes I think she cares more about the people she drinks with than the people she created.
"I wish I was there." I lower my voice since I'm in the main house and who knew if there are spies lurking about. I wouldn't doubt it if there are. "You shouldn't have to spend the holiday alone."
"I'll be all right." His false bravado kills me. Owen tries to act so tough all the time. I wonder if it's as exhausting for him as it is for me. "Wade's mom invited me over. I think I'll go to their house in an hour or so. Wade said they like to eat around three. Supposedly his mom makes a fucking awesome pumpkin pie."
"Don't curse." My heart lightens and I plan on sending a thank you card, gift, whatever I can muster to Wade's mom when I get back home. "I'm so glad you have somewhere to go."
"Same here." He pauses for a moment before he says in a small voice, "I miss you."
I swallow past the lump in my throat. "I miss you, too. But I'll be home Saturday night, I promise. Let's do something Sunday, okay? Maybe we could go to the movies." We never go, it's too damn expensive, even the matinee, but screw it. We need to infuse some fun in our lives. It's too damn dreary in the Maguire household and we'll both need the escape by the time I get home.
"I'd like that, Fabes. I love you. Happy Thanksgiving."
"I love you, too. Happy Thanksgiving, sweetie." I hit end on my phone and turn to find Adele standing not five feet away from me, her perfectly arched eyebrows lifted so high I'm afraid they'll fly right off her too-pretty, too-smug face.
"Well. Don't you sound cozy, chirping into your phone how much you miss and love him?" She takes a step toward me and I back away, fear shivering down