AllFreeNovel
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“Okay, but I don’t want to.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t change the fact that you do.”
“Don’t training mission test me right now,” I grouse during my crossing over to the table. “I need more cheat codes, less no-win scenarios.”
He pushes the container of fruit to the shared space between us. “You’re gonna name my god kid after something from that show, aren’t you?”
“Franchise.”
“Fuck you,” Calen lightly laughs on a shake of the head.
“Only if you promise to hold me afterwards.”
My best friend’s grin slightly fades prior to him inquiring, “Wilcox really hasn’t been around?”
Shaking my head occurs before viciously chomping down on the yellow cube.
“You haven’t had dinner together?”
The action is repeated.
“Lunch?”
Yet again I execute the movement.
“Breakfast?”
“I have been on more dates with Nes at this point than him.”
“Fuckten,” grumbles the man beside me as I stuff another piece of food into my starving mouth. “Although, her Fed boyfriend doesn’t strike me like the type of dude who would object to her dating other women.”
“Dating? Yes. Occasionally banging? No.”
“Really?” Curiosity creeps into his gaze. “No shit?”
“Can we not talk about my other best friend’s thriving sex life and maybe focus on the demise of mine? How I haven’t been fucked in weeks? Or touched?” I shove more fruit into my mouth. “Who doesn’t hug their pregnant fiancée?!” Another square finds its way inside despite the fact that I haven’t even chewed the other. “Who doesn’t hold them when they’re crying?!”
Additional chunks are jammed against the others
“Whodoesnttellthemotheroftheirchildtheylovethem?!”
The jumbled mess of the last claim is what prompts Calen to stand and wind his arms around me.
To no surprise, there’s no hesitation for the tears I had previously banished to begin pouring from my eyes, coating his work shirt in wetness, whatever flakes of mascara haven’t rubbed off yet, and tiny specs of fruit littered spit. Through incoherent sobbing, I thoughtlessly confess everything that’s been eating away at me since I physically lost sight of the man I love.
I cry angrily over the media.
Their latest lies.
Their latest highlights of our notable failures as a couple.
I bawl about them blowing this possible sibling thing out to the Andromeda Galaxy.
Turning Monica’s well-planned ambush into a war with no possible winner.
Destroying Wes to the point he’ll miss his chance to be a father because trying to defend the one he had is all he can fathom.
And it’s that blubbering that leads me to the ugliest, scariest fear I actually have.
