I started flipping through the channels, trying to find something to distract me as I took out my chopsticks and white to-go boxes. Finally, I settled for some mushy old movie and brought my legs up to sit more comfortably. I could barely watch the movie as I ate, thinking way too much about Walker. It surprised me how much I thought about him, how many things seemed to remind me of him, and how badly I wanted him to be there with me. It almost felt like I was divided right down the middle. Half of me wanted something more with Walker, and the other thought the notion was utterly ludicrous.
Forcing myself to shut off my brain, I watched the end of the movie, envious of the couple living happily ever after at the end of their drama-filled love affair. I glanced down at my phone, realized it was only eleven thirty, and couldn’t help but wonder when Walker was going to be home. I tried not to think about that, and where he was. I dragged myself upstairs to shower off my crazy day, and climbed into bed with another glass of wine and a good book to, hopefully, lull me into a peaceful sleep for a change.
Before long, my eyelids started to get heavy. I set the book and wine glass down on my nightstand, glancing at the clock one more time. It was almost two in the morning and there was not one sign of Walker at all. A little bit of worry danced into my mind, hoping that, wherever he was, he was safe. Pushing the bad thoughts of Walker’s terrible drinking and driving habits into the back of my mind, I willed myself to fall into a deep, wine-endorsed slumber.
13
I woke up the next morning realizing that I hadn’t heard Walker come in the night before.
Remembering that we had plans for breakfast, I jumped out of bed, truly excited to see him. Even though Walker had seen me at my worst, I felt the need to make myself a little bit more presentable than usual.
I lifted my shirt to take a look at my freshly peeled tattoo. The skin was still tender and itchy, but it was healing fast. I loved my bird, and the memories it provoked were all warm and happy, helping relax my crazy mind. I stroked the tender skin, applying a fresh coat of ointment, hearing Randy tell me about these birds, as I curled up into his arms on his boat one sunny afternoon. The thought of Randy made me feel a little guilty for a moment. I had to make it a point to remind myself all my thoughts were innocent and justified, at least for the most part.
I pushed the memory of Randy out of my mind in a hurry, and got back on task. I got changed out of normal pajamas of an old Army shirt and sweats, and into short jean shorts and a black scoop neck; simple with just a hint of sexy.
Figuring I had the time, since it was eight in the morning and Walker would probably still be sleeping, I turned on my flat-iron and sat cross-legged in front of my mirror to do my makeup and hair. It only took me about ten minutes to tame my sleep-tousled hair and apply a quick layer of eye makeup.
Without hearing any movement in the house still, I made my way down to the kitchen to start brewing a much-needed pot of extra strong coffee. Even though I slept straight through the night, I felt like I hadn’t slept well in the slightest, figuring my brain hadn’t turned off entirely. Everything was still overwhelming to me, but I tried my best to keep the confusion, worry, and guilt at bay. So much had changed over the last few days and my thoughts were a jumbled mess that I didn’t want to deal with anymore on my own. I longed to go wake Walker up to start to work through the tangled mess in my brain, but I forced myself to stay put.
Leaning up against the counter next to the humming coffee pot, my eyes caught onto a strange purse sitting right next to mine on the table by the front door. I froze, my mind racing around and around, my stomach lurching. I felt like something had stabbed my heart.
Before I could make a move toward the foreign bag or to run back into the safety of my room, I heard Walker’s voice from his bedroom upstairs. “Hush, my roommate is sleeping. I don’t want to wake her.”
A familiar giggle emanated from the girl coming out of his room, making my heart sink more. I knew I’d heard that laugh before, but I just couldn’t seem to place it.
Still clinging to the counter for dear life, I could hear two sets of feet tiptoeing down the stairs, coming close to the kitchen. Walker was leading someone by the hand, but stopped dead in his tracks when he realized the kitchen light was on. I could only see him as he quickly turned to face me from the entrance of the kitchen.
A panicky frown filled his face. “Morning, Mags. I was trying not to wake you.” His eyes darted to his hand as he pulled the twittering girl into my view. My jaw dropped in disbelief as the blonde bartender from The Saloon came scooting into the entryway. “Mags, you remember Cindy, don’t you?” He wasn’t making eye contact with me.
I shook off my shock and moved toward Cindy, rage bubbling up in my stomach. I wanted to punch her in her giggling face; she was intruding on my home and my man, but I surprisingly kept my composure. With the images of tackling the whore to the ground in my thoughts, I forced a smile, my anger and calmness colliding making my brain thump angrily against my narrowing eyes.
“Hi, Cindy.” I waved. “Coffee? It just finished.”
I could not believe what was coming out of my mouth; my normal course of action would have been screaming for this bimbo to get the fuck out of my house, slapping Walker for the last forty-eight hours of torment he had put me through, and now this. He had just told me he wanted to be with me a day ago, and bringing this girl to my home was how he showed it? I did my best to mask the disdain in my voice, and to my surprise, Cindy didn’t seem to notice how upset I was.
A wave of relief came over me when Cindy declined my offer for coffee, claiming she needed to get home to walk her dog. My stomach churned when Cindy kissed Walker deeply goodbye, and headed out my front door. By the time she was gone, tears were forming pink streaks down my pale cheeks.
Walker turned to me, in shock. His desperate green eyes tried to search mine for any answers. His face was twisted into painful distress and seeing it made me want to hold him. I got angrier with those emotions and screamed out loud in frustration. When he tried to choke out an apology, I just held up my hand and told him, in the most even tone I could manage, “I frankly don’t give a shit what you have to say while that bitch’s scent is still on you. Go take a shower, give me a minute, and maybe I will be able to look at you.”
Sullenly, he let his gaze drop to his feet. “Yeah, okay.”
He walked up the stairs and turned on the shower right away. I heard his sighing and frustrated rants at how stupid he was as I made my way back into the kitchen.
At least we’re agreeing on one thing at the moment, you are an ass!
I sulked over to the kitchen table, collapsing into a hardwood chair. Seeing Walker with Cindy made me see I actually wanted to be with him. My stomach was killing me, and tears were surging down my hot cheeks as sobs choked out of my burning throat.
I detested the way I was feeling. It was an utterly different type of broken heart than what I had grown accustomed to. A wave of rejection and shame crashed hard as I replayed the morning’s events in my head. The worst part of it all was how stupid I felt for being like this. The last time Walker and I spoke, I told him we were friends and roommates, and that was that. I had no claims over him whatsoever. It was not my place to say he couldn’t sleep with whomever he wanted.