The sound of knocking pulls me out of my sleep, and I groan, rolling over in bed. Lifting a pillow, I bring it over my head, but the relentless knocking continues.
“What?” I yell. I lift one droopy eyelid to check the time on my alarm clock. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I hiss as another round of knocks sounds off. “It’s seven in the morning!”
The knocking continues and I finally toss the pillow and comforter off, hurrying to the door. I check the peephole and my heart drops when I see who it is. Really? The one morning when I don’t want to be bothered, he shows up? Fucking Garrett.
I debate ignoring it, but I know he’ll keep knocking. Or he’ll use the key I gave him…which I need back, by the way. Ugh. And he probably heard my voice just now. Fuck.
I drag a hand over my face, run a palm over my hair to smooth some of the frizz, rub the sleep out of my eyes, and then pull the door open. As soon as I do, Garrett says, “You didn’t call.”
I blink at him, letting the words register. Call? Oh. Right.
“Shit, yeah. I didn’t. Sorry. I got home and completely crashed. I was exhausted.” Garrett looks me over from the other side of the door, two coffees in hand and a box from his favorite New York City style bakery. His eyes swing across the apartment to the counter. I look with him at the bottle of tequila and the empty glass I used last night.
“Not exhausted enough to keep you from drinking, I see.” He raises a judgmental brow.
“It was just one drink,” I counter.
“If you say so.” He shifts on his feet. “You gonna let me in or what?”
I step back, hugging the door as he walks past me. He places the coffees and bakery box on the counter, then takes a thorough look around. He does that a lot when he comes over, like he’s looking for something—or someone, rather.
“Got your favorite.” He offers one of the coffee cups to me.
“Thanks.” I take it from him, moving across the hardwood floors and sitting on my sofa. I take careful sips and smile at him. “White chocolate.”
“Yep.” He carries his coffee with him. “So, uh, what time did you get in last night?”
“Four in the morning.”
He huffs a laugh and I’m not sure what that laugh implies, so I don’t react to it. We sit in silence a moment, sipping our hot beverages.
“You were right, you know,” I finally say, and I hate the words as they spill off my tongue, but I can’t stand the silence. Why is he even here? Why didn’t he call first?
“About what?”
“About our…relationship.” I glance at him, and he does his infamous brow quirk, waiting for me to say more.
“I know it’s not fair of me to expect you to stick around when I’m hardly here,” I go on. “I work a lot more so…I’m sure it’s becoming frustrating for you.”
“Yeah, it is.” He sits back against the cushions. “But it’s your job. That’s why I came over to see you. Can’t really be mad when you’re making money to provide for yourself,” he says with a smirk.
I force a smile and give him a onceover. He’s dressed casually, jeans and a navy-blue T-shirt. He smells like sandalwood, and he’s had his goatee trimmed into neat lines. His hair is the same floppy, curly top, trimmed around the ears. He looks nice, well-rested—the opposite of my current state. And because he looks so nice, it must mean he has to get to work himself. I find relief in knowing that.
I pick at the label on my cup with his name on it. “I was thinking, though…” I pause, letting the words marinate. “Maybe we shouldn’t take what we have so seriously.”
Garrett is quiet, so long I think he’s upset. I lift my gaze, finding his. He’s already glaring at me, his eyes hard and cold. “What are you saying? That you want to stop seeing each other?”
“What? No, I didn’t say that at all!”
“Well, that’s what I’m gathering.”
“You’re putting words in my mouth. I’m just saying, with my schedule I can’t promise to always hang out. Plus, you have your job too. Life is getting busy for both of us.” I lift the rim of my cup to my lips, but Garrett reaches over and clutches my wrist before I can take a sip. My heart drums faster as I glance down at his hand before finding his eyes.
“If you’re tired of me, just say that.” His voice is low, icy.
“I never said that,” I reply evenly. My voice comes out steady and I’m glad. Any sign of hesitation and he’ll question it.
Garrett glares, his hazel eyes intense, then he sighs and releases my wrist, raising the hand he just held me with in the air and chuckling. “Look, I’m sorry. All right?”
I side-eye him.
“I just really wanted to surprise you with those movie tickets, so when you told me you weren’t in town, I got a little upset. That’s all.”
“I understand,” I whisper.
“Next time you’ll let me know though, right? If you’re going somewhere?”
“Of course.”
“Good. I’m glad.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “No hard feelings. Right, babe?”
I nod. “No hard feelings.
We both sip our coffees at the same time, and while I do, I try my best to control the beats of my heart. It’s impossible. My pulse is in my ears, drowning out all noise.
This is what I mean. He’s changed. There’s an edge to him that I don’t like—one I didn’t realize was there until it was too late. At first, he was kind and caring. And when he’d show up at my door without a heads up, I thought it was cute. He’d always pop up with goodies, like flowers, baked treats, or coffee. But after a while, he became…territorial. And don’t get me wrong, I love a guy who can prove he cares, but Garrett cares a little too much, to the point where it’s unnerving.
There’s one night in particular that made me realize Garrett wasn’t the man I thought he was. I’d gone to help Faye unload a huge shipment of books at the bookstore she manages. We were there for several hours because she had to stock them and prepare for a launch day for a popular novel. When I was done helping her, I had four missed calls from Garrett and two text messages. I still remember the messages:
WHY AREN’T YOU ANSWERING ME?
WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!?
They were in all caps. I thought it was strange, and I called him back, but he didn’t answer. However, when I got home, he was parked in the parking lot of my complex, waiting for me. He thought I was ignoring him. He got angry, then he grabbed me a little too roughly when I decided I wasn’t going to argue with him about my whereabouts any longer. When he did that, I kicked him out and didn’t speak to him for a week.
Then he appeared again, knocked on my door with cupcakes, put on that stupidly charming smile, and I took him in and forgave him.
I was stupid…but I also couldn’t help myself because the truth was that without Garrett, my life was dull. I felt every dull, aching moment during the week I ignored him, and it sucked. All I did was drink or get high or sleep. It was depressing. Then I started thinking about how I possibly was guilty—that I should’ve spoken to him about everything like an adult, not gotten upset with him for wanting answers. Like I said, I was stupid.
There are times when I want nothing to do with him, like now…but then I remember, it’s him or I drown myself in tequila and weed, and that makes me so damn lonely and desperate I can’t stand it. But with the way he’s grabbed me, he’ll keep doing it. And I don’t give a damn how depressed I am, or how much I wallow, I’d rather be alone forever than to tolerate a man who maliciously puts his hands on me.
“Oh—before I forget,” he says pushing off the sofa and walking toward the counter. “Boris had the cinnamon rolls today. I snagged two before they sold out.”
“You’re kidding!”
“Not at all. Behold, the cinnamon rolls of glory, baby!”
I burst out laughing as I watch him sit next to me with the box open, revealing two large cinnamon rolls smothered in cream cheese icing.
“They look great. After I shower, we can dig in,” I tell him, standing.
Garrett rises and walks to the kitchen. “Cool. Don’t take too long. I’ll have them nice and warm for you.”
I smile at him as I make my way to my dresser, taking out a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. When I go to the bathroom, I close and lock the door behind me, start the shower, and then sit on top of the toilet seat, inhaling before exhaling.
I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this up. I have to officially break it off with Garrett. But when I do, I know he won’t take it well. I don’t know what he’ll do, and that unknown terrifies the hell out of me.
