Page 35 of Breakaway

I halt in my tracks, my hand on the doorknob. Looking over my shoulder, I notice Nevaeh sashaying toward me. Her white dress with lacy details on the skirt spotlights her golden skin and the narrow curve of her waist, pushing her round tits up. A high ponytail bounces left and right with each step she takes in her nude stilettos. It’s the perfect view except for one tiny detail—the huge bouquet of pink roses in her hands.

“Hey.” Nevaeh stops beside me, her eyes crinkling with a devilish glint. Her gaze roams over me, lingering on the helmet in my hand. “You went for a ride?”

I nod, eyeing the bouquet like it’s the source of my misery. “What’s this?”

Her smile fades immediately. She looks down at the roses and then back at me with her eyebrows knit together. She shrugs, pressing the roses closer to her chest. “They’re from Travis.”

“The ex,” I exclaim as I jerk the doorknob and open the door wide. “I thought you said you wanted him to move on.”

“I still do,” she says quietly, following me inside the building. “I felt bad saying no to him.”

“Giving him hope when you know the breakup was final is bad. Saying no to him giving you flowers shows mercy.” I start climbing steps, not sparing her a single glance. Her footsteps stop, and that’s how I know she’s taking the elevator instead. Good. Maybe walking to the sixth floor will help me ditch this insufferable agitation. It’s like the cherry on top of my already fucked-up mood, and I don’t need it.

Stair after stair, I ascend until I’m on my floor. Breathing heavily, I stomp to my apartment door. A drop of sweat slides down my cheek, and I wipe it away with my hand.Na huî vsyo eto?2. Why am I getting so worked up? Because I want her?Na huî.?3 It’s stupid. She’s as off-limits as she was the day I met her.

But she’s my wife.

The words flash in my head, and I grit my teeth because it means shit. Our marriage is a joke. Stupid ink on paper. No one in their right mind would want to be married to me…I’m a disease. Destructive and poisonous. I demolish everything around me until there’s nothing left but the scorched earth. It makes no difference that we’re legally tied together now. When it’s time to sign the divorce papers, she’ll hate my guts so much, she’ll be relieved to be free from me.

It will be so much better if I keep my distance. She doesn’t need my mood swings or my jealousy. Especially if I have no right to feel jealous.

I’m just her roommate, after all.

A little greenand yellow cardboard box appears in front of my face. Looking up from my laptop, I find Nevaeh with a Sour Patch Kids pack in her hand.

“What is this?” I close my laptop and put it on the coffee table.

“My favorite. Chewy candy. Really sour chewy candy,” she replies, holding my gaze.

“And you’re giving it to me…why?”

“Peace offering.” She tosses the box onto my lap and plops down beside me on the couch. “I hate conflict. It makes my skin itch and turns my brain to jelly. I don’t want to feel like that at home…sorry, at your place.”

I chuckle, taking the box and opening it. “It’s your home too,” I tell her.

“Your silent treatment doesn’t really scream hospitality. And it definitely doesn’t make me feel at home,” Nevaeh says, watching as I take a candy and put it in my mouth. I extend the box to her; she takes it and quickly tosses a candy into her mouth too. “Thanks.”

“I should be the one thanking you. And also apologizing to you.” I turn to her, letting my eyes wander over her makeup-free face. This girl is absolutely perfect, with and without makeup. With her hair down or in a ponytail or braids. I’m mesmerized by her, falling deeper and deeper in the river of denial. Soon, convincing myself to stay the hell away from her is going to be very difficult. “I’m sorry for what I said. It’s not my place to comment on you and Travis, and I have no right to talk to you like that.”

Nevaeh tosses a few candies into her open palm, and returns the box to me. “You were rude, but you were also right. I shouldn’t have taken the flowers from Travis. It gives him hope, and that’s not what I want.”

“Did he come to your office?”

“Yes. No. Not exactly.” She dumps the candies into her mouth and chews, while I continue to stare at her. With an exasperated sigh, she turns to me. “We work in the same building. Yesterday, when I was on my way to Angie’s, I saw him in the elevator.”

They work in the same building? My skin becomes hot, and before I say anything stupid, I stuff my face with six candies. The sour taste fills my mouth, and I close my eyes for a second, wincing. It’s better this way though. It’s better to chew on these, than say things no one wants to hear.

“I was sure he’d try to see me, so I planned to leave later than usual so I could avoid him,” Nevaeh mumbles, sitting cross-legged. “But he showed up at my office with the bouquet when I was about to leave. He even insisted on walking me to my car, telling me over and over how much he and Happy miss me.”

“Happy?”

“His dog. The cutest French bulldog,” she explains, a gentle smile blooming on her lips. “Trav knows I love Happy.”

“So he’s using him to guilt-trip you into getting back together.”

“No, it’s more about making me miss him, so I’d want to see him.”

“And you’d need to go to his place for that.” I nod in understanding, putting the empty box on the table. “He’s good. Using anything he can to get you back.”

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