Page 14 of Unexpected

“Maybe I’ll just ship them to you for a week and see what you think.”

“That’s quite alright,” I began to argue, but she cut me off.

“Actually, I think that’s a great idea. What do you think about the week after—”

I started to make noises with my mouth, mimicking the line breaking up. “I’m going through a tunnel. I can’t hear—call you—bye.”

I hung up the phone as she was attempting to persuade me that sending her hellions to me was a good idea.I loved them, but I was not ready to care for children full time.

I was going to slip back under the covers, but I glanced at the clock next to the TV on our dresser and saw it was already well past eight in the morning. I had a video meeting at nine, for which I had to look at least a little presentable. So, I begrudgingly flung my legs over the side of the bed and walked to the bathroom. I whipped my sleep shirt over my head and tossed it in the basket right inside the bathroom when something in my peripheral caught my eye.

Just out my window, I saw Luke, a towel hung loosely around his waist, hair soaked from his shower, staring wide eyed at me and my completely topless upper body. It took us both more than a second to comprehend the entire scene, but when we did, I sprinted forward into my bathroom as Luke jogged farther into his room.

I sank down onto the floor against my sink to try to calm my breathing and my sporadic heartbeat.

Well, my hot neighbor saw me naked. Or naked on the top, as I liked to call it as a child. Hopefully he enjoyed the freaking peep show. But as worried as I was about him seeing my boobs, there were other more revealing and telling parts of me that I was more concerned he had seen.

EIGHT

Hazel

My desk was litteredwith papers of handwritten outlines, ideas for character development, and interesting dialogue that I could use in my book. I had a lot of decent ideas, but I couldn’t seem to bring any of them to fruition. I couldn’t get the dots to connect, and I sure as hell lacked the creativity and imagination needed to make the characters come alive and appear to be more than just words on a page.

I manifested my frustration by furiously scribbling through bad ideas with a red pen and aggressively backspacing through the entire two-thousand-word chapter I had written.

After my actual technical writing work—drafting documentation for manufacturing equipment—was done a little past lunchtime, I was excited to have time to sit down and write. I was sorely disappointed in myself.

For the most part, I enjoyed my position as a technical writer for an engineering company—it provided me the ability to work from home and set my own schedule, which was vital when I decided to relocate to Austin with Michael. I wanted a flexible schedule and opportunities to achieve goals outside of work.

It was especially important when we decided to have kids, because I wanted the ability to stay at home.

That wasn’t happening anytime soon, though, and until then, I hadn’t realized how much I would miss going into an office every day and getting to see someone else’s face. Working from home, I’d go days without seeing anyone. And my only friend I’d made at work, Stephanie, had her own family and friends and life. So, without much else going for me, I was at least thankful that my job afforded me the ability to write creatively and often.

As I stewed in my self-pity and questioned my life choices, my phone buzzed with a new text message. Eager for distraction, I clicked on the new message.

Michael:I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon. Flight was already delayed.Did you get your exercise bike fixed?

Me:No, I’ve been running in the evenings instead. I like to be outside while the weather is so nice.

His texts had been short and sporadic the entire day, but the dots indicating that he was typing a response immediately appeared.

Michael: I gave you the guy’s number to have it fixed. Why haven’t you texted him yet? Also, the bike is a better workout, and I spent a fuckton on it.

Michael:Get it fixed and use it.

Michael:Please.

The damn exercise bike had been broken for weeks, and as evidenced by my lack of trying to have it repaired, I didn’t really want to. I preferred outdoor activities. My nightly run was something I looked forward to every evening just before dinner and after I had completed work. It was a nice way to get out of the house and was my time to unwind, throw my headphones in, and leave the rest of the world behind me.

The bike had been a surprise gift from Michael at the beginning of the year. It was top of the line, and he said it was to help improve my overall physical health and fitness. When he was home, I used it frequently, but when he was traveling, I went back to my preferred method of exercise.

My time outside was sacred, but Michael was more concerned that I use my exercising time wisely. And I had to admit, my ass looked rounder the longer I used the bike. Michael took notice of it as well.

Me:I will. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow!

I stared at my phone for a few minutes, hoping for a quick response, but when one didn’t come, I locked my phone and set it screen-side down on my desk. I had renewed hope that I would find my muse and write something actually worth reading. Maybe I would include an exercise bike in the next chapter.

I poised my hands above the keyboard, pushing my worthless notes to the side, but before I struck any keys, my attention was pulled to the front yard.

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