I’m on edge on Monday.
I haven’t spoken to Gemma since Friday. And she’s been away doingGod knows what. My brain had the entire weekend to come up with likely scenarios in my head, and none of them were good.
Sometimes I feel like she takes me for an idiot, as if I wouldn’t notice the distance between us. It’s not as if it was created overnight. It was there before I even kissed Claire!
Seriously, where the hell has she been?
I really hope she was at Gia’s.
I’m reminded again of my additional kisses with Claire on Saturday, but my ego pushes those thoughts away.
I pull on a white T-shirt and wheel myself to the kitchen when I see Gemma near the front door in a tight black dress, barely acceptable for work.
She looks exhausted.
So, for a second, I wonder if maybe I’m imagining this whole cheating scenario to justify my own betrayal.
How can this woman who once loved me so much be the cause of so much of my heartache now?
She stops in her tracks when she notices me, and we gaze into each other’s eyes with a million questions between us.
Full of frustration and questions, yet never any answers.
She puts on her coat and boots while I stare at her. Then she grabs her purse, ready to leave in silence, withnothingto say to me at all.
I can’t fucking take this silence anymore.
I can’t takethis—us!
I’m going to lose my fucking mind, I swear to God, because trying to solve a problem with Gemma is like trying to prevent the next war.
“Did youfuckhim yet?”
I’m done beating around the bush. I want answers. I deserve answers.
I don’t feel bad about the look of pity she gives me, as if I should cut her some slack. I don’t know what I’ll do if she answers yes to my question. I’m angry enough to destroy this entire house without batting an eye.
“What?”
Seriously? She’s just going to pretend?
Alright, Gemma.
“I’m talking about your boss.”
I know the answer when she drops her purse and comes closer to me, saying angrily, “How dare you ask me that after what you’re doing with Claire!”
I laugh with every malicious bone in my body.
This treacherous woman.
At least have the balls to say it to my face.
“I saw your drawings of Claire, you know.”
I stop laughing. It’s as if she stabbed me in the heart. I can’t handle the look on her face. I go from wanting to destroy something to wanting to save her from the hardships we’re going through.
“You what?”