Page 32 of His Bittersweet Regret

“This you?” The cabbie asked.

“It is, thank you for coming so quickly,” I told him as I passed him a twenty-dollar bill. “Keep the change,” I offered, knowing I just gave him seven extra dollars that I didn’t really need to part with right then. Thanks to being pregnant, and needing to take some time off of work, I had to pay four months ahead on my rent when I got the place, just to be sure that I would be covered for any emergencies that might pop up and give me enough time to start working and earning a paycheck again.

It was true, I made plenty of money, and could even afford a place in a slightly better neighborhood. The problem was, I couldn’t afford to pay ahead for emergencies in those places. What savings I had managed to put away, thanks to not having to pay rent for the past six months, was quickly dwindled down with doctor bills, baby items that needed to be purchased, and a few clothes that would fit my ever-expanding waistline. Not that I splurged on those. I had exactly three pairs of pants and two shorts that I shifted between along with a few different tops, now that hiding behind a sweatshirt was no longer an option. It was either quit wearing them or suffer a heat stroke, so I was glad to be over hiding my condition.

I just needed to get past people’s need to talk. More to the point, let them talk themselves out of being interested in my life before I gave them a little something else to gossip about.

I unlocked my door and hobbled my way inside. My feet were killing me, and my leg cramp felt like what I assumed labor would be like. It was nearly unbearable. I grabbed a banana off the counter and started eating it without thought as I made my way to the couch that dwarfed the current living room it resided in.

I had left my bed behind, knowing that the new apartment only had one tiny bedroom that would be just big enough to fit the crib, changing table, and a little rocking chair in it. The couch had become my bed, as evidenced by the sheets and blankets still thrown over it. What was the point in making it look like a couch again anyway? It wasn’t like I’d have any guests beyond Bethany.

My already dark mood plummeted even further as I pulled my shoes off my aching feet. It didn’t occur to me to get my own first aid kit before I sat down and got comfortable. I stared longingly at the bathroom, as if thinking hard enough would make the damn thing come to me. Unfortunately, my mind powers did not work to teleport objects to me. Too bad. That could have come in handy one day.

Just as I finally talked myself into getting up, there was a knock on my door.

“What now?” I asked the universe. “Maybe this time it can be one of those sweepstakes things that I don’t enter, and I could be the winner. That’d be great.” It didn’t escape my notice that talking to myself had become a regular thing of late, but it took place of the banter that used to occur between Marsh and me.

I didn’t even bother looking to see who was outside. Instead, I threw caution to the wind, tossed the door open, and allowed the doorjamb to prop me up before I even realized who was standing there.

“Opal?” Ryker said my name so gently that I thought he might cry. “Why didn’t you tell me this was where you were moving to?”

“Ryker, go home, please. I’m tired, sore, and I just want to bandage up my feet, eat something more than a banana, and go to bed.”

He didn’t listen. Not that I thought he would. Instead, he pushed his way past me, but not before he leaned his head back out and looked down the open-air hallway. “It’s 1272,” he yelled, much to my dismay.

Then he pushed past me again and stood dead center of my living room-slash-kitchen combo and frowned at the couch with my bedding still on it. I didn’t see what he did after that because another body was busy pushing its way through my door. I was more familiar with him, and he wasn’t exactly welcome in my home or my life for that matter.

“What the absolute fuck, Opal?” Marsh asked as he made his way inside and closed the door behind himself.

“I really don’t have the energy for this visit. I’d appreciate it if you’d both leave.”

“Where is your bed?”

“What bed?” I asked Ryker.

“Exactly. You just told me you were going to see to your wounded feet, eat, and go to bed. I don’t see a damn bed anywhere.”

“Why the hell not? I left a perfectly good bed behind with you at the apartment.”

“It wouldn’t fit, and honestly, I didn’t want the reminders of you in my new place. The other furniture had to come because I didn’t have anything else, but I was glad to leave the bed behind.”

“Do you hate me that much?”

“Yes,” I answered him before turning to face Ryker, who was glaring at me.

“Opal, you better not be sleeping on this couch.”

“Where the hell else do you expect me to sleep, Ry?” I was so damned tired and frustrated. “I didn’t invite you here,” I whined to both men while wishing they would just go away.

“You can’t stay here,” Marsh demanded.

“I can. I have. I’ve already paid up for four months in case of emergencies with the pregnancy or baby. This is my home now, for better or worse.”

“Opal, I know you can do better than this place.”

“No, you don’t, Marshall. You don’t know anything about me anymore. You know absolutely nothing. Now, I really want you to leave.”

I pointed to the door, or tried to, but my body was just too exhausted to have much follow through on the gesture. Standing sucked. My feet hurt. My back hurt. And I just wanted to close my eyes for a solid week.

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