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Smoky Darling

Page 134

by S.J. Tilly

Beckett

It’s taken allmy free will to stay focused on my meetings today, instead of taking my phone out to text my girlfriend.

Since I spend so much of my time working from home, I’m aware that my appearance in the office isn’t taken lightly and I want to be present when I’m here. I also want my employees to see me as accessible, so I made a point to stay dressed down today. And it worked, but it might’ve worked too well because I feel like I’ve had a conversation with every-fucking-one and I just want to leave. My office manager even had the lunch-hour catered so with the exception of the times I’ve stood in the bathroom taking a piss, I haven’t had a moment alone since stepping foot in the building.

With one final round of goodbyes, I excuse myself from the impromptu parking lot conversation and try not to run as I head toward my truck.

Work is fucking exhausting.

Unlocking my door, I admire my new windows as I slide into the driver’s seat with a groan. Maybe I’ll just sell this location too, and I can be a stay-at-home husband to Elouise. Packing her lunches every morning and licking her pussy every night.

Truck on, I pull my phone out of my pocket and smile at the missed text I have from Elouise.

Swiping to read the message, the smile slips off my face.

Flowers?

Ice crawls up my spine. I didn’t send her any fucking flowers.

I hit the phone icon next to her name and wait for it to ring, but it clicks straight to voicemail.

I hang up and try again.

Same result.

“Fuck!” I shout the word, slamming my car into drive and peeling out of the parking lot.

I barely miss the bumper of a car as I cut across traffic, aiming for the fastest route to the freeway.

One hand on the wheel, I tap my phone again.

Silence… “Hi, sorry I missed your-”

I let it play through, taking deep breaths. She should still be doing her parent conferences, so maybe she just turned her phone off to avoid interruptions.

I force in another long inhale through my nose. It could be a simple misunderstanding. Maybe Maddie sent her flowers but didn’t include a card and Elouise just assumed they were from me. But then images of my broken truck windows, a man trying to enter her tent, and cars crashed together in a parking lot fill my mind.

“-call you back.”

I wait for the beep, then work to control my tone, “Babe, I’m on the way to your school now. I’ll be there in…” I press the gas pedal down further, “twenty minutes. Please wait for me before you leave.” I hesitate. I don’t want to freak her out, but I need her to know. “I didn’t send you any flowers. Just… call me when you get this. Okay? I love you.”

My fingers are trembling when I hang up and I press the gas down even further.