I jumped back as a loud smack against the lounge table and a gust of wind hit me all at once. My chair squeaked against the tiled floor before I caught sight of the Us Weekly magazine slapped down in front of me by a tiny brown hand. I followed the length of the arm it was attached to and glared at Clare.

"You almost gave me a heart attack," I whined, but she just smiled at me, tapping the magazine with her stubby finger.

"You don't see that?" she asked and I glanced down at the magazine again. This time it was clear and I wondered how I missed the front page news.

I wrinkled my nose at the distasteful display of the mugshot-like photos of Jessica and Justin. Their heads were angled off to look like they were glaring at each other and I damned Photoshop to hell for a moment.

"That's terrible," I mumbled and I honestly felt bad even though my heart had a lept a little at the news. Not that it meant anything. They could be engaged still for all I know. These magazines never got anything right.

"Terrible?!" Clare squaked out and I grimaced. "This fantastic!"

"How the hell is this fantastic?" I asked.

"Girl, don't you see?" she asked and I blinked and stared at her. "He's coming to his senses! This is the first step! He broke up with her-"

"Wait, hold the fuckin' phone," I interrupted, "Are you honestly pushing this issue again? I could've sworn that two weeks you were telling me to get over him." I was angered by her switch. She was my only support system and now she was turning her back on me for an Us Weekly.

"No, two weeks ago it was you asking me how to get over him," she corrected. "What kind of friend would I be to not give you some tips? I never said I agreed with what you were doing." I stared at the puppy cartoon prints on her scrubs and tried to gather my thoughts. In two weeks, I only thought of him every hour or so which was amazing since I usually didn't go a second. I was making quick improvements and now she was standing in front of me, telling me it was a mistake.

"Clare, I don't understand," I said, "You were as confused as I was about him and now your his cheerleader again."

"Girl, I was confused because he kissed you like he wanted to stay and then left. And now, look. He left so he could leave Miss. Biel and come back to you." She smiled to assure me, but doubts filled my stomach with knots as I picked up the magazine and stared at the headline. The split must have been old since there were 'new' details on it. I wrinkled my nose because I felt stupid for thinking of how cute Justin looked with that mean face they had him wearing.

"Clare, this is nothing," I said, willing myself to look away from the picture of him to look up at her. "It's a tabloid and they lie all the time just to sell."

"They have personal sources dishing out the details," Clare argued back, "Besides, they haven't been seen together recently, which is really strange since they were always together."

"There's always a 'source'," I said, rolling my eyes, "And so what if they aren't spending every waking moment together, it doesn't mean it's over. They might just be taking a break."

"Or they might have broken up," Clarissa pressed on, "Why aren't you glad about this? Don't you want him back?" My chest tightened at the question because it was being pulled in two directions: yes and no. For the first time, I was honestly not sure if I wanted Justin. Him being single and ready to mingle (hopefully with me) was appealing, but at the same time terrifying.

Clare took my pause as an apocolyptic sign of danger and gasped dramatically. "No! Don't you dare say you're over him!" I rolled my eyes at her dramatics.

"Clare, first off, I'd like to keep this conversation within the confines of this room," I said, glancing around the white lounge area to make sure we were alone, "Secondly, I'm not over him... yet. But I'm trying to get over him. You waving around an US Weekly, trying to foil my plans, isn't helping me."

"Why would you try to be over him if he's coming back for you?" she wondered and I rolled my eyes.

"Says who?" I asked rhetorically, "Clare, you just came in here slapping US Weekly on the table with the news of a split. Before this moment, I never knew about a break up and why? I'll tell you why - because Justin didn't tell me he was breaking up with her. Because Justin didn't show up at my door, begging me to take him back. Because Justin isn't the one who told me he was leaving her for me. I didn't get the information from the man himself, therefore this break up has nothing to do with me or he would have let me know." I took a deep breath and pushed myself up from the table, finished with my lunch break. "I know you meant well, but I honestly feel a little worse. But even if it was him telling me this, I wouldn't know what to do with the information. I don't know if I even care to know what he's doing in his life anymore, especially since I don't fit in it anyway."

"Now who the hell told you didn't fit into his life?" Clare asked, annoyed with my negative attitude.

"I did," I answered before adding, "And so did he when he got on that plane again and flew away. He was saving me a lot of future hurt and he still is by staying away from me." I grabbed my trash from the table and tossed it into a waste basket by the wall three feet away from me. "I don't want to fit in anyway. I'll end up on US Weekly." She rolled her eyes as I walked around her to exit the room. I barely got around her before she grabbed my wrist to stop me.

"Sash, I honestly believe this is about you and I know you think I'm all crazy optimistic, but it's true. He didn't love her and he tried to, but now he has come to terms with what he feels. He might take a while to contact you because he fucked things up, but he'll come around." Her words were logical, but I knew better. My gut told me to keep my hopes down and my determination to forget about him up.

"Okay," I said, pulling my arm free from her grasp, "I'm going up to the nursery. Page me." I left on that note and headed up to see the babies sleep peacefully after the worst day of their lives come to an end. I would wish to be back in the warm cacoon of my mother's belly so I wouldn't have to worry about men and heartbreak and crazy people I called friends. I would be jealous of the carefree thoughts in their tiny heads as I press my hand to my stomach and think of what it would be like to have that ball of new life growing inside me. And then I'll start feeling depressed knowing that I'd be making that baby alone because I was getting old and no closer to finding a good man any time soon. Then I'd shed a couple of tears in the bathroom because I was pathetic and lonely and would never admit to how sad it made me at times when I mulled over the idea of being incapable of loving or being loved.

Then I'd get back to work and start the vicious cycle of emotional torment all over again.

That was usually how my days went by. They got better and some got worse, but it was all good. It would stop some day or I'd at least become numb to it. Whichever came first was good enough for me. I reached the nursery and walked up to the window. Two nurses were tending to the newborns as I watched. I frowned when I thought for a moment about Justin and how our kids would look like... Then I stopped immediately, criticizing myself for being so ridiculously corny and farfetched. The man couldn't even call me let alone have my babies.

I shook my head and pushed away from the glass, feeling agitated suddenly with babies. I walked down the hall toward the bathroom and pushed the door open angrily. I checked every stall to assure I was alone before walking over to the mirrored sink wall. I closed my eyes and breathed deep, making sure I prepared myself to see my reflection. I opened my eyes to the same face I saw everyday, but I mulled over its flaws like it was the first time seeing them. A pore here or a bump there...Bags developing beneath my tired eyes.

I shook my head and 'tsk'ed. Did I always look like this or was this a new look for me? I hoped that it was new because I felt bad for Justin for having to look at me. What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he ever want me at all? My stomach knotted up with agony. I missed him and it hurt and I wanted it to stop so bad that it hurt more. I held my stomach and my eyes watered against my will. I was a mess. I was a big, fucking mess.

I was also vibrating. I rolled my eyes and wiped my tears, grabbing my pager first, but the vibration wasn't coming from there. It was my cell phone, I realized as I reached into my pocket and grabbed the device. I read the caller i.d. and furrowed my brows at the blocked number. I rejected the call and sighed. I didn't feel like talking to anyone anyway, but block numbers were always a no, no. It was daytime and minutes weren't free. I put my phone on the counter and put my hand beneath the sensor of the sink. The water flowed down automatically and I was still amazed at technology. I didn't even have to turn the faucet on anymore.

At any rate, I dried up, tossed my phone back into my pocket and cleaned my face. I looked refreshed, and felt a vibration again. This time it was my pager and Clare was now waiting on me. I took a deep breath and exhaled. I didn't want to go, but I would. Work was a big distraction from my chaotic thoughts.

I took one last look at myself. You'll get over him, I reassured myself. You'll get over him.

-------------------------------------------------------

"You've reached Sasheirah Hanes. I'm sorry I couldn't get to the phone right now, but if you leave your name, number, and a brief message, I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you."

I hung up before the beep and sighed. What the hell was I thinking? I guess I wasn't thinking at all. I was just sitting here on my porch swing, thinking about her and her face and I felt the urge to call. I had nothing to say though, I just wanted to hear her voice. I was so sick with missing her that I almost called back again, just to hear her voicemail message. I suppose that made me a bit crazy, but I didn't really care. But I hesitated to do so, fearful of her actually picking up and me staying quiet on the line as she asked over and over again who was breathing on the line before cursing and hanging up unknowingly on me.

I frowned, disappointed because I was being such a pussy. Why was I so scared? I knew Sash. Se loves me. She said she does and I knew she always would. She wasn't a foolish girl who loved everybody, just the ones she deemed worthy. I guess she knew better now. I was far from worthy and I was proving it everyday that I didn't call despite the black hole in my chest growing larger everyday.

"You gonna stay out here forever?" My mother's southern twang came flowing in the wind toward me as she stepped out onto the porch. I could here her sandals scrape against the wooden planks before she sat down next to me. I just stared out into the street of single homes, illuminated by the sunlight. I squinted a bit from the glare, but relaxed in the warm weather I missed so much over the long winter. It was spring time and new life was all around me, but I never felt less alive.

"Mama," I called and I didn't have to look at her to know she was facing me. "Have you ever been afraid of nothin'?" She made a strange, thoughtful grunting noise and I saw her shrug out of my peripheial vision.

"I'm afraid of a lot of things," she said, "I'm not afraid of 'nothin'' though... There's always something to be scared of."

"I dunno..." I argued with a shrug of my own, "I'm scared out of my mind right now and I don't know why. I can't even leave her a voicemail." I didn't have to elaborate on who the 'her' was. My mother knew everything there was to know about Sash and I. She knew who I was referring to without hesitation.

"Well, baby, there's lots of things to be scared of when you're on the subject of Sash," she told me, "For one, you're in love with her."

"That's not scary," I said, cracking a small smile, "I love that I love her."

"She doesn't know that," she shot back, "Last I heard, she was the one beggin' you not to go." I frowned again.

"I know," I sighed, "I guess I don't want to see that look on her face again. I don't want to hurt her."

"Then stop prolongin' this torture and tell her how you feel," she said, "Justin, if you love some one, you tell 'em. It's really simple. Love is the most beautiful thing in the world. And she loves you too! Jesus pieces, you've already got your foot in the door."

I rolled my eyes at her. She was too optimistic sometimes. I couldn't really argue though. She was right. I knew how Sash felt and that was a good thing. I was assured a yes, but I wasn't assured that I wasn't going to be a douchebag to her anymore. I couldn't assure that I'd stay. I had the tendency to ruin good things, especially women. I blame myself for every girl cheating or leaving me. I wasn't the best boyfriend in the world. I wasn't around much. I was annoyingly famous and so consumed in work at times that I even forgot to call my mama. Why wouldn't I do that to Sash? Why wouldn't I one day break a date or forget to call and say 'I love you'? I guess that's what I was afraid of. Treating her badly at anytime. It would devestate me as much as it would devestate her. I already put her through enough drama. I felt that if I was going to be her boyfriend, I should be there all the time. But I had an album and a tour and movies and a clothing line... She would always be second best, like every woman I've ever loved, to my career and business. She wouldn't be the exception to the rule, no matter how much she mattered to me. I didn't want that for Sash. She deserved a thousand percent of me and I didn't want to waste her time unless I could assure her that much of me.

"What's runnin' through that big ol' head of yours?" my mother teased, tapping my temple for emphasis. I shrugged.

"I don't think I'm the man she's gonna need," I told her, "I don't think I can love her as much as she needs to be loved." There was silence for a while, the trees rustling in the breeze for a moment as the birds chriped. Then a snicker and full blown laughter shout of from my mother's form. I had to look at her this time, not being able to resist the smile that spread across my face instantly. "What in the world are you laughin' at?" I asked as I laughed along. She was tearing up now and fanning herself down into giggles.

"Oh Lord!" she huffed with a grin, "Men are the dumbest creatures on earth." I furrowed my brows, but smiled nonetheless.

"Why's that?" I asked and she wiped her tears.

"Boy, you think women expect some perfect boyfriend? Sash is no fool. She knows what you do and who you are and all the things you're aspiring to be... She knows the Justin in you and she knows the Matthew too. And amazingly enough, she loves you both. She opened up herself to you after a great deal of hurt was thrown on her and she trusted you with her heart after all the bullshit. She just needs you to give her that much back. She just needs you to love her too. She doesn't need you in her face twenty-four-got-damn-seven tellin' her she's the most beautiful girl in the world and showering her with kisses. It would be nice, but she's a realistic woman. She knows you'll kiss her in the mornin' and miss her when you guys are apart and that's what matters. She just needs you to be a part of her life and you can give her that much, right?" I stared at my mama and wondered how I could go a day without her voice. She was the only one crazy enough to stick with me and deal with my drama.

"I could give her that," I said softly before looking down at my lap. I was twiddling my thumbs, hesitating again. "I don't know why I'm so worried."

"Well, you did break her heart... twice," my mother made a face when I looked at her that sympathized with me and Sash. "She's a tough nut to crack, so you may have to weasel your way back into her heart. But she loves you and that doesn't go away overnight, so you have an advantage."

"I feel like I'm pulling her around, but I'm not tryin' to, ya know?"

"I know, baby," my mother cooed, given my short curly hair a russle, "I'm not the one that needs to know that though."

"Should I call?" I asked.

"Would she answer?" she challenged. I shrugged, unsure. I had purposely blocked the number in fear that she would auto-reject me if my name came up on the screen.

"I dunno," I mumbled honestly and my mother shrugged.

"Well, she can ignore a phone call, but she can't ignore that pretty little face of yours," she smirked, "You going to call for plane tickets or should I?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Everything that moved on me hurt. My arms, my legs, my ass, my stomach... Ugh, the agony. As if pain wasn't enough, I was slick with sweat and funking up a storm. Why was I doing this to myself every other day? The hospital couldn't pay me to do this a month ago and hear I am, trying to keep up with this cardio crazy son of a bitch.

"Come on ladies!" the class instructor shouted, "Get those knees bent and feet up!" The thumping music matched my manic heart beat as I kicked, punched, and grunted in unison with the crowd of women, sweating and panting along with me.

"Just ten more seconds! Keep it up!" Her words weren't encouraging at all, but she was counting down and my burning legs were going limper and limper. Every kick less energized than the one before. "...8...7...6....5...4...3...2...1...and walk it off!" I dropped my legs down and hunched over to catch my breath. The girl beside me rolled her eyes and we shared a quick smile of understanding as the instructor clapped for us. "Good job!"

There were collective groans as she released us. I grabbed my weights and mat and jump rope and placed them back into the storage room. I was dragging myself around now, done with the gym and dreading the ride home. Hopefully I wouldn't crash from getting a leg crap. My back was aching as well as the rest of me when I bent over a water fountain and quenched my thirst before grabbing my gym bag and heading out to the lot.

The air was warm outside, but the light breeze felt good against my skin. I took my sweet time walking up to the second floor platform and searched for my car in the lit lot. The lexus was still shiny and I frowned remembering that I went to the gym as a distraction to this. To his face in my head and his voice echoing in my ear. To the tingling of my lips when they longed to kiss him. I shook my head, rattling them around a bit and almost nauseating myself before I settled into the car. I locked the doors and started up the vehicle as I buckled up. I paused for a moment to rotate my shoulder (which hurt) and then shifted the gear into drive.

It was was only about ten minutes to get home. It was almost eight and traffic died die drastically. I found parking behind a pick - up truck. It was as shiny as my Lexus and I figured my neighbors decided to get a car rather than pay their light bill. I rolled my eyes and got out with my bag and keys in hand. It took me a little longer than usual to reach my door with my legs still hurting and my back almost breaking, but I was grateful to manage to put the key in the lock and turn it without falling to pieces.

I was midway into my house when I heard the door of a car open and quickened foot steps headed in my direction. I didn't wait around to see what or who it was. I stepped into the house a little faster and hardly closed the door before a hand reached out for me. I screamed when it grazed my skin and twisted the cap of my pepper spray open as it hung off my keys. The sprayed it haphazardly, still screaming as the man yelled and let go of my elbow. The pepper spray irritated my lungs and eyes for a moment before I slammed the door shut and locked it. Bob ran off shrieking. The bastard didn't even wait to see what the noise was about. I could hear the man groaning in pain from outside my door before I crept to the window and saw his hunched over figure on the ground by the steps.

My mind flashed back to the faithful day in December and my heart almost flew out of my chest as I practically yanked the door from the hinges.

"Justin!" I yelled and he groaned as I hurried down the stairs to his side. He struggled to look up at me, but when he did, my guilt overwhelmed me. His eyes were red and a rash looking pinkness was spoting his face. I had gotten him good and would've been proud had he been an attacker and not the man I'm in love with. "Get up, I gotta take you to the hospital." I struggled to get him up before I ran and locked my door again. I left my bag, but took my keys as I guided him to the passenger side of my vehicle. He was groaning and mumbling profanities the whole ride to the ER. Clare was there in two seconds, getting him into see a doctor. I stood outside the door as they aided him.

I hoped to god that pepper spray didn't cause blindness or any other serious problems. I didn't even think this was that good of a spray. It was five dollars in Chinatown, but I guess it was enough now that half his face was as red as cherries. Clare stepped out of the room and looked me over with a sour expression.

"I just came from the gym," I answered her, "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine," she assured me, "They're flushing out his eyes and skin. He's just going to be red and itchy for a day or two." I frowned.

"I didn't mean to," I childishly mumbled and Clare reached out to pat my arm.

"He knows that," she assured, "But what a way to say hello to someone."

"He grabbed my arm and it's dark out and I didn't expect Justin to be back here," I argued and Clare smiled.

"What did I say a week ago?" she asked smugly. The US Weekly flashed through my mind as I rolled my eyes.

"This is a coincidence."

"I'm sure..." she said sarcastically before the door cracked open behind her and Justin came strolling out, red as ever, but not as crazy looking as before. His eyes were a pink tint and swollen a bit. He looked like shit and his full on pout wasn't helping matters. Dr. Thompson came out behind him and a prescription write up in his hands. He handed it to Justin he grunted a 'thanks'.

"You'll be just fine, Mr. Timberlake," he said cheerfully, "Just be more careful around this one." He chuckled and patted Justin's shoulder.

"I'm going to go back up with Dr. Thompson," Clare said, "Y'all be more careful." She said 'y'all' but she was staring at me with an amused expression before her and Dr. Thompson walked up the hall and disappeared around the corner. I turned back to Justin with a sheepish look as he read his prescription over.

"Anti-biotics and ointments and eye drops..." he shook his head with an emerging smile. "You fucked me up, baby." My heart jumped at the word 'baby', but I remained nonchalant.

"You really shouldn't be sneaking up on people like that," I said, "Especially at night."

"I wasn't sneaking up on you, I was waiting for you to come back from work," he said, "I was in the pick up you parked behind, but I fell asleep and didn't realize it was you until you had gotten up to the door. I guess I was too excited and I just grabbed for you..." Again, another heart jump at the thought of him being excited for me.

"Well... I'm sorry," I said, not having a smarter than to say, "I honestly didn't know it was you and I was just scared because I don't live in the best area, ya know?" Justin snorted a laugh.

"Yeah, I know that pretty well..." he said, implying his whole beating situation. I nodded solemnly in agreement.

"So what are you doing here anyway?" I asked, "I mean... I thought you were in LA." I felt like I was lying somewhat because I knew about the break up and I knew that that's why he was actually here.

"I broke up with Jessica," he told me and even though I knew, it was still somewhat shocking to have him confirm it. "I couldn't do it anymore. It just wasn't going to work." I nodded again.

"I read about that," I confused, "US Weekly or something."

"Figured you hear about it someway or another," he shrugged, "I'm sorry for not calling you first."

"It's none of my business who you break up with," I told him, "That's your life."

"I don't want it to be like that," he told me, "I don't want it to be my life."

"But it is," I said, confused, "That's what you chose...twice." My heart shook a little in my chest. I felt like I had been knocked down two times lower.

"Those were my worst choices," he mumbled as I looked down at the white, clean hospital floors. I saw his footsteps move closer to me. I took a step back and he stopped walking with a heavy sigh.

"I don't know what to say to that," I told him honestly, "But I'm really not looking to go through this back and forth thing again."

"I'm not looking to do that either," he said, "There's nobody else to go back and forth between. There's only you." I snorted an unamused laugh.

"Is that suppose to be a compliment of some sort?" I asked, looking up at him briefly before staring off to my right, "I don't want there to be a no 'back and forth' policy just because you're single right now and nobody else is interested."

"That's not what I meant," he said with a sigh, "Sash, I cannot tell you how much I want to be here now, just so I can be here with. Not because nobody else is 'interested', but because this is where I need to be."

"For now," I mumbled doubtfully, "You staying in a hotel?" Justin looked like I slapped him in the face for a moment as I defensively folded my arms over my chest. He looked away at the floor.

"I didn't make plans to, but it can be arranged." I felt bad, but at the same time angered. Was I really that easy that he didn't bother to look at hotels? My door would just be wide open for him no matter what? It was insulting, to say the least, to be seen as that much of a pushover. It was working down my self-esteem and the way I saw myself was changing. I needed to be the old Sash again. I needed a backbone.

"Than arrange it," I said, fixing my ponytail as a distraction to the knots tying up my stomach. "I'm sorry about your face. Let me know how it goes." I turned and started down the hall toward the exit.

"I can't even get a ride back to my car?" Justin called after me, completely ruining my angry stomping by his reasonable question. I just stopped walking and he caught up shortly, walking silently beside me to the car. It was still warm out and my Lexus looked shinier, like it was showing off for Justin. 'Hey, look at me! Look at how well kept I am!' Of course it's well kept - I would spit shine it clean if I had to. It was the only stable thing Justin ever gave me. It was the only Justin thing that I had, really. Sad as that was.

I suppose I could have the man himself too, I thought as we got into the car and started towards my home. He was here and he told me that this is where he wanted to be. No hotel arrangements were made, so he had every intention of staying here... Possibly in my bed. My body quivered. It felt like forever since I had a taste of him. My lips tingled at the thought and I imagined his mouth crashing on top of mine... I was so glad that the light was red or I would've killed us both with the direction my mind was going. I couldn't stay focused on the road and that would lead to nothing good.

"Are you mad at me?" Justin asked quietly, breaking into my thoughts. I wish he didn't because he sounded so cute and worried that I almost said no.

"Justin, I really just want to lie down," I told him tiredly, yawning just on cue as I pulled into the empty spot behind his shiny black truck. I didn't waste time sitting in the car. I was halfway to my door before he even got out. When I heard my passenger door open and shut, I locked the doors with the key remote without even turning around.

"You didn't answer my question," I heard Justin say. I ignored him. My hand was already holding my door key. "Sash..." I paused my walking. I didn't want to turn around, but he was silent to let me know I had to. I rolled my eyes and faced him.

"Yes?" He looked at the keys in his hands, his truck, and then pointed to his face.

"I'd really hate to be a bother, but I can't see that well right now since I got pepper sprayed and all, so driving, especially at night, isn't really the smart thing to do."

"Where's Mike?" I asked.

"In LA," he answered curtly, "I do travel alone sometimes, you know." I sighed and turned back to the door.

"You're sleeping on the couch," I announced as I heard him jogging up behind me. I put the key in the lock and opened it. Bob meowed and Justin crept around me to swoop him up off my living room floor as I locked the doors again behind me.

"I've missed you too, buddy," Justin cooed and Bob purred as he scratched behind his ear. Was it stupid to find the scene endearing and sickeningly sweet? Bob was such a little traitor today, but I couldn't really blame him. I missed Justin more than he did. I was just a bit more subtle about it.

"How long do you think you'll be staying?" I said, interrupting the moment between them with my hands placed on my hips and my lips pursed.

"The doctor said two to three days," Justin said.

"Okay, two to three days," I said, "But after that, I think it's best if you go." Justin placed Bob on the floor gently and clapped the fur from his hands.

"Sash, I can't help, but feel like you don't want me here," Justin said with a sad smirk on his face, "I don't want you to hate me. I thought we were okay at least... I know I left, but I thought we were okay."

"Well, I thought about it and we're not okay," I told him, "We never were and we won't be, so I just don't want to waste my time on this anymore."

"How can you just say it like that? And what are you talking about? We're good. We're good and we can fix this issue here."

"I don't need to fix anything," I stubbornly shot back, "I'm not the one with issues." He gave me a bored look.

"I think we both have issues, more or less," he said camly, "But I know that my issues were really what made us so awkward, but I'm here, right? I'm trying to be here now."

"Yeah, now," I emphasized, "That's my point, Justin. You're here today and gone tomorrow. I can't live like that."

"I didn't know what I was feeling then, Sash."

"And you know now?" I asked, my doubt and hope battling it out in my mind.

"I couldn't be more sure," Justin told me, "Sash, I love you. I'm in love with you and I know that now. I know that my heart belongs to you." I held my breath to fight the words 'I love you too' from flying out of my mouth. My heart was beating furiously, trying to fly out of my chest and rest in his hands. I wanted to hear those words come out of his mouth, but as I stared at his red and irritated face, I realized that part of me was happy that I did it. At least he felt an ounce of the pain he put me through, intentionally or not.

And because of that, his words lost a bit of their intensity. "I'm going to bed. I have an early shift." I looked away just as his face dropped. "There's some pillows in the side closet and a blanket at the end of the sofa. You already know the routine." Bob meowed in the awkward silence that followed and I scooped him up in my arms as he rubbed himself against my legs. "Goodnight, Justin." I said more to my cat than him as I nuzzled my face into his soft fur and turned toward the stairs. A part of me wanted Justin to call out to me, but I reached my room without a word from him. Bob jumped from my arms once we entered the room and I let go of the breath I had been holding as I shut my bedroom door.

"I love you too, Justin," I said to nobody, "I love you too."