Page 111 of Unholy Obsession

My throat tightens. My stomach hollows out. Iknowit’s stupid, Iknowit’s small, but the feeling slams into me anyway. Aridiculous, overblown, shameful devastation that makes me feel like a wind-up toy running out of spin.

My fingers slip, and then?—

“Shit!”

The cup crashes to the floor.

Coffee explodes everywhere—on my shoes, on the cabinets, on myperfect fucking skirt. The sound of ceramic shattering echoes through the empty kitchen, and my body seizes up, my breath catching hard in my throat.

Oh.

That’s just fuckingperfect.

Hot coffee seeps into my socks. My lip trembles. My stupid fucking liptrembleslike I’m some pathetic little girl about to cry overspilled coffee, and I want to scream at myself. I want toshakemyself.

It’s nothing. It’s just coffee. It’s just an outfit. It’s just a moment. It doesn’t mean anything. He still loves you, he still wants you, you are not being abandoned, you are not?—

I swallow hard, pressing the heels of my palms against my eyes.

Get it together, Moira.

I take a slow, shuddering breath and force my shoulders back.

I’m still meeting Kira for lunch.

I’m going to clean up this mess, fix my makeup, and pretend none of this happened.

Andifmy brain decides to gnaw on this for the rest of the day, I’ll deal with it later. With tequila. Or bad decisions. Or both.

No. I don’t do that shit anymore.

I’m being good now. I’mmarriednow. I feel a low, horrified drop in my stomach. I’m married to apriest,for Christ’s sake.

I grab a towel and fall to my knees to furiously wipe up the coffee, tears squeezing out of my eyes.

Kira looksannoyinglyradiant.Not that I’m bitter. I mean, I’m alittlebitter, but that’s beside the point.

The point is, we are at lunch, and I amon. Big, bouncing, shining like a goddamn supernova because that’s what I do.

That’s how I win at life. I perform until everyone believes I’m the happiest bitch in the room, even when my insides feel like a squeezed-out juice box.

“So, tell me.” I lean forward, chin propped on my hand, eyes twinkling like I haven’t spent all morning wrestling with the void. “How’s living with Mr. Silent & Broody? Does he still do that thing where he stares into the distance like he’s contemplating existential threats everywhere he looks?”

Kira snorts, stabbing at her salad. “Every day.”

“Does he talk more now, or do you just sit in eerie, muscle-bound silence until one of you passes out from sheer lack of stimulation?”

Her lips twitch. “He talks.”

“Oh, groundbreaking. A wholeword? Or are we up tosentences?”

She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “Yeah, he’s still a grumpy bastard,” she says, casually twirling her fork, “but he’s going to be a great dad.”

Boom.

I barely stop my fork from clattering onto my plate. My fingers spasm around it, and for a second, I swear the whole restaurant tilts sideways.

I cover fast. Big grin. Big eyes. Big voice. “Adad? Holy shit, Kira! Congratulations!”

---