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By late afternoon, Freddy couldn’t take it anymore. Fuck giving her time. He needed to know what was happening. Studying how the tendons of her hands flexed like piano wire as she typed, he decided to make homemade pizza for dinner. It was Sabrina’s favorite, so luring her out to add her own toppings wouldn’t be hard. Then all he’d have to do is convince her to eat with him.
“I’m making us pizza for dinner,” Freddy announced a while later. “Join me or don’t.”
He bounded down the stairs to the kitchen without waiting for a response. There wasn’t time for a good, fresh crust to rise, but he had some large naan. They both loved using that as their pizza base. Once he had the pans and bread ready, Freddy grabbed toppings from the fridge and pantry and built his pizza. The familiar routine calmed his nerves, but only slightly. Usually, they’d be doing this at Sabrina’s house. He didn’t mind doing it here, but only if she was with him.
“Sabrina!” he called out, his voice echoing up the steps to the office. “Come pick your toppings!”
“Whatever you pick is fine,” she hollered back.
“Pineapple it is!” He knew that would get her. She hated hot pineapple and was firmly encamped with the anti-pineapple pizza wackos, but that was why he knew it would work. Sabrina knew him well enough to anticipate that he wouldn’t just put pineapple on her pizza, he’d chop it up fine and hide it, so she couldn’t pick it off.
Sure enough, hesitant footsteps announced her arrival in the kitchen, though she didn’t say a word. When she stopped in the doorway, her eyes downcast, Freddy plastered on a smile and held out the black olives and gestured at the fresh mushrooms he’d sliced on the counter.
“Here,” he said. “Your favorites.”
Sabrina mumbled a quiet thanks and began arranging the toppings on her pizza. Freddy watched her for a moment, the silence between them growing heavier by the second.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he took a deep breath and leaned back against the counter beside where she worked. “Sabrina, why are you being so distant?”
She froze, her hand hovering over the pizza. “I’m not. I’m just tired.”
“Bullshit,” Freddy said, his frustration bubbling over. “After last night, I deserve to know if I hurt you or why you’re suddenly giving me the cold shoulder.”
Sabrina’s eyes flashed. “It doesn’t matter, Freddy. Just drop it.”
“No,” he said, stepping closer. “I’m not letting this go. Whatever’s going on, it matters to me because you matter to me.”
“Freddy, please,” Sabrina pleaded, her voice cracking. “Just leave it alone.”
He shook his head, his jaw clenching. “I can’t. Not when it’s clearly affecting us both. How can it not relate to me?”
“Because it doesn’t!” Sabrina snapped, slamming her hand on the counter. “Not everything is about you, Freddy!”
“Then what is it about?” he demanded, his voice rising to match hers. “Just tell me!”
Sabrina’s face contorted, a mix of anger and pain. She opened her mouth, closed it, then suddenly screamed, “I’m moving back to Nebraska!”
The words hung in the air between them, heavy and suffocating. Freddy felt like he’d been punched in the gut, all the air leaving his lungs. They stared at each other, both shocked into silence by her outburst.
“Patrick’s going to fire me anyway,” Sabrina broke the silence with an explanation so quiet, Freddy had to lean toward her to hear it all. “And if Mom and I share a place, we only have to support one household. It makes the most sense and fixes everything.”
Freddy choked down his resentment. He could never walk away from them the way she was planning to, and it hurt like hell to hear that she could. Clenching his jaw to prevent himself from screaming, he snarled, “You swore you’d never go back. No matter what, you said. So why now? What’s suddenly changed?”
This time, when she tried to speak into her half-dressed pizza, he hooked a knuckle under her chin and turned her face to reveal her expression. Her eyes swam with tears that spilled over as she explained, “Ma’s trailer was destroyed by a tornado last night.”
Well, fuck. That did explain things. After years of listening to Sabrina rant about her mom’s living situation and how she needed to move somewhere better, Freddy knew she’d lived her biggest fear last night on the phone with her mom.
His focus shifted as Freddy realized she confirmed something else he’d suspected for a while. “How much does she rely on your support?” he asked.
Sabrina just shrugged, and Freddy brushed away her escaping tear with his thumb. She might not be willing to say it aloud, but he was pretty sure Sabrina covered most, if not all, of her mother’s monthly bills.
He wanted to fix it, but it wasn’t that simple. Freddy had never met Sabrina’s ma, but he understood how messy and complicated family relationships could be. Using the hand he had cupping her cheek to pull them closer together, Freddy pressed his forehead against hers and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”
“I knew you’d want to argue and tell me to stay.”
Their faces were so close, he couldn’t see her expression, but their whispered words and shared breath created an intimate bubble he didn’t want to burst. “Of course I want you to stay.”
“But I can’t afford to rebuild my house and hers, especially if I lose my job.”
