Page 30 of Back to Me

I laugh. A laugh so loud, she takes a step back, surprised by my behavior.

“Dylan?” I shake my head and smirk. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Lifting her arm in the air, she lowers it, allowing her hand to smack against the soft, flowy fabric of her emerald colored cocktail dress. “He didn’t get to pick his name, Graham. You’re being so ridiculous.”

“Whatever, Sara. I hope you both had a wonderful time,” I say, sarcastically.

I turn my back on her and pour the uneaten cereal down the sink, flipping on the disposal. Over the sound of the blades grinding the combination of cornflakes and milk, she asks, “What is your problem?”

With my back still turned, I watch as the water from the tap spills into the sink, washing down in a spiral. I shrug. “I don’t have a problem.”

I turn off the garbage disposal and place my bowl into the top rack of the dishwasher.

“Well, you never texted me back, and you’ve been ignoring my calls. Is this because I told you I wouldn’t be able to work with you tonight?” she asks, raising her voice up just above normal.

Turning back around, I lean against the edge of the sink, picking up a dish towel and pretend to dry my hands. Casually, I toss my head side to side, deciding how I should answer. I could lie and tell her yes, but I decide now is the time to stop with the lies. The endless lies and secrets have become a never-ending web spun around us.

“Nope,” I say, shaking my head. I don’t offer her a further explanation.

She stares at me in disbelief. Then I see something in Sara’s eyes I’ve only seen a handful of times. She’s crying. Tears suddenly spill down her cheeks, one after another. They aren’t sad tears, but angry ones. She balls her hands into fists, straightening her arms at her sides. Her face tightens, and her skin flares into anger.

“I don’t“—she takes a breath—“understand you.” Her voice is hushed and a complete contradiction to her body, but I can see her boiling on the inside. I drop the towel on the counter beside me and prepare myself for what’s coming. This is what I want. This is why I’ve been so nonchalant with her. I want her to finally tell me the truth.

“I don’t fucking understand you!” she screams, squeezing her eyes shut, causing more tears to spill down her cheeks. She’s sobbing now, and it takes all the strength I have not to go to her.

“What don’t you understand, Sara?”

Stiffening her body, she opens her eyes wide and angrily points toward me.

“You have no right to be angry with me for going on a date.” She doesn’t stop with her verbal assault, the words pouring from her mouth. “Ever since the day we danced in the loft, you’ve been different. I’m not an idiot, Graham, contrary to what you may believe. I see the way you try to touch me, try to get a reaction out of me. But you know what I’ve learned after all these years?” She pauses, allowing the hot air to suffocate the space between us. “Your actions mean nothing. You’re hot one minute and cold the next. So, don’t you dare stand there and act like I’m the one who’s in the wrong. We aren’t even together, so if I want to go on a date, I’ll go out on a fucking date!”

Raking my fingers through my hair, I release a heavy breath and look down at the floor. I pretend to be oblivious to the fact she’s figuring me out. I guess I’m more transparent than I thought. The last thing I want to talk about is how hot and cold I am with her. So, I ignore every statement she’s made and divert the topic to her date.

“I don’t even know who this guy is. For all we know, he could be some serial killer.”

Looking up, I watch as she stomps her way to me. Standing just a few short feet away from me, the anger radiates off her skin like a raging fire.

“Cut the bullshit, Graham!” she scoffs. “Tell the fucking truth—for once. Because we both know—"she points at me, then herself—“that’s not what the real problem is.”

I narrow my eyes. “What’s the real reason then, Sara? I want to hear you say it. You tell me how I feel since you seem to be so in tune with my emotions.”

We’re standing face to face, our three-foot gap now turned into one. There’s no reason for our voices to be so loud, but we don’t lower them, our anger reaching an all-time high. My skin tingles, feeling her hot breaths brush against me. Her green eyes have turned to fire, but hidden beneath the anger is an immense amount of pain.

“You know…” She releases a breath of utter disbelief and backs away. She paces to the edge where the kitchen meets the living room and spins back around, shooting me with her missiles once again. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset with me for going on a date, one time. One time, Graham!” she yells. “When you’re dating Jenna!”

My eyebrows furrow, and I lean back in confusion. “What are you talking about? Jenna who?”

An incredulous grin spreads across her face as she shakes her head. “Oh, don’t play dumb. I’m not stupid, Graham.”

Crossing the kitchen, I hold out my arms. “Sara, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. Her tears have subsided, but her eyes are still glassy and wet under the lights above our kitchen island.

“Jenna. The waitress from the Jealous Abbot?” Raising her arm, she points toward my room. “I saw her number in your nightstand when I went to grab your charger the other day.”

Pressing my palms against my forehead, I release a loud growl. “Oh my God.” I laugh, but there’s no humor behind it. “You think I’m dating Jenna because I kept her number?” Now my anger has reached the top, spilling over at an alarming rate. “I never even called her. I never even tried to call her,” I yell.

She doesn’t respond, the only sound the sharp breath she inhales. She wasn’t expecting the conversation to go this way.

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