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I wrap one of the towels around myself before stepping out and wrapping my hair. I walk out of the bedroom, taking one look at the bed and ripping the cover off to the floor before the sheets follow it. Gathering them in my arms, I move over to the washing machine and stuff the sheets in and then the cover. I set it on heavy-duty wash before going to the kitchen and starting my coffee. Grabbing the mug, I walk back into the bathroom to start blow-drying my hair. I ignore even looking at the bed, just like I avoid looking into my eyes in the mirror.
But now I’m standing in front of it as I take the towel off my head, combing my hair, moving to the side and seeing the reddish-purple mark. My hand drops the comb as my fingers come up to touch it, and I immediately get sick to my stomach. I lean over and vomit out the coffee I was drinking. I dry heave for a few minutes before I stand back up, trying not to think about the fact I just fucked my best friend’s boyfriend. Sorry, scratch that, my dead best friend’s boyfriend.
The whole time I’m getting ready, I think about how stupid I was last night. How it took one touch from him to light my body on fire. How it took a kiss and for that one kiss I forgot I hated him, but how it took one minute to make me hate him even more.
I put some concealer on the mark on my neck before getting dressed in white jeans, grabbing a light denim-blue button-up shirt, pulling up the sleeves, and tying the front in a knot before grabbing my white sneakers. I make my way to the dryer and put the sheets in there and hang the quilt up.
I get into the office later than I have in the last week. I pull open the door and step in to see my father behind the desk. “Hey there, sweetheart,” he greets me, and I smile at him. He looks a little tired today, more so than yesterday.
“Hey yourself,” I reply, walking over and bending to kiss his cheek. “What are you doing here?”
“I work here.” He laughs. “I would ask you the same thing.”
I sit in the chair in front of the desk. “Same,” I tell him as he looks over the invoices in front of him, closing the book so he thinks I won’t see them.
“Did you eat?” I ask, and he leans back in his chair.
“You know I’m the parent in this relationship.” He chuckles, folding his arms over the book in front of him.
“Is that a yes or a no?” I raise my eyebrows, waiting for him to answer me.
“I was going to grab something when I came in,” he admits. “I wasn’t feeling so hot this morning.”
I get up right away. “I’ll go get you something from the bakery,” I tell him. “What do you want to eat?”
“Something light,” he says, leaning back and taking money out of his pocket. “Here.”
“It’s on me. It’s not every day that you can buy your father breakfast.” I make a joke out of it. “I’ll be back.”
I’m about to walk out of the room when he calls my name. “Autumn, this was outside for you.” He picks up the white envelope, and I grab it, seeing my name written in the middle in black writing and underlined twice.
“Thanks, Dad,” I say, holding it in my hand. “I’ll be back.” I turn and walk toward the front of the bar and head to the bakery. Walking in, I’m greeted the same way I was when I got here. “Morning, Ms. Maddie.” I smile at her as she walks out of the back with a tray of donuts on it to refill the front display case.
“Morning, Autumn,” she returns. “What can I get you?”
“I’ll have two yogurts with granola and fruit,” I say, and she nods, going to the back to get my order. I open the white envelope in my hand, finding the folded white piece of paper, pulling it out, and the card dropping to my feet. My heart speeds up when I see it’s the same card I got yesterday at the bar.
The back of my neck tingles when I pick it up and then unfold the paper.
Autumn,
I would love to talk to you and get your side of the story.
Clear up some facts.
Call me at your earliest convenience.
Darren
I tear up the letter and walk over to the garbage can in the corner, tossing the letter and the card. My hand shakes as I move my fingers watching the papers fall into the can, the pieces falling away. I turn in time for Maddie to be there with my white bag. “Here you go,” she says. I walk over, pretending everything is okay as I open my wallet and take out my cash to pay her. “I threw you in a donut on the house.” I smile at her. “You need to fill out a bit.”
I laugh at her remark. She was always saying I was sticks and bones anyway, so I’m not sure why she noticed it more now. “Thank you.” Grabbing the bag, I leave her the rest of the change for a tip.
I’m walking out of the door with my head almost down when I bump into a hard shoulder. “Oh my goodness,” I say, looking up. “I’m so—” The words are stuck in my throat when I see the woman in front of me. Waylon’s mother, her bleached-blond hair styled perfectly. Her makeup just right, the string of pearls around her neck, and more at her ears. Her outfit is slacks and a knitted sleeveless shirt with the matching sweater tied around her neck.
“I don’t believe it.” The snarl is more than I remember it to be. “What the hell are you doing here?” I’m sure there are people all around waiting for this showdown.
“I live here,” I reply, putting my shoulders back, trying to show her I don’t care what she thinks of me.
