Page 11 of Pretend to be Mine
I nod as my face heats up.
She laugh. “Oh my God, Savannah. What is wrong with you?”
I shake my head and cover my face. “I don’t know.”
Her laughing continues and fills the quiet room around us while my blood boils with embarrassment. “So, what are you going to do now?”
I let my hands fall away from my face and shrug. “I was planning on locking myself in the house until I die or he moves, so he doesn’t ever have to look at my stupid face again.”
My response only makes her laugh harder.
I stomp my feet, but they don’t make much sound on the carpeted floor. “Stop laughing and help me!”
She dries the tears from her eyes as she quiets her laughter. “Okay, I’m sorry. It’s just,” she lets out a few more giggles, “I don’t know how you get yourself into these messes.” More giggling ensues.
I roll my eyes and wait. “Are you done?”
Sarah nods as she wipes her eyes again. “I think so, but no promises.”
I scoff and lean back in my chair. I feel like a nerdy high school student again.
“Sorry. I really am. But I don’t think you need to lock yourself away. He probably likes your stupid face.”
My eyes cut to her with sternness.
She holds up her hands, palms facing me. “Sorry. Now I’m done.”
I sit up and try to focus on the computer screen and this morning’s emails.
“I’m sure it’ll all be fine. What’s meant to be will always find a way, right?”
I want to roll my eyes or smack her, but I just mumble, “I guess.”
She snickers once more before standing up and leaving me alone. Finally, I can fall apart in silence.
The day rushes by, but that’s probably because I’m not looking forward to going home. I get home a little earlier than I usually do and I’m relieved to see that Ben’s car isn’t in the drive. I can safely walk to my door without bumping into him. I park and make my way inside. The first thing I do is drop my purse and keys on the coffee table, then go into my room for some more comfortable clothes. I change into a pair of pajama shorts and a loose-fitting tank top. I pull my hair into a messy bun and go into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. I’m developing a headache and don’t know if it’s because I’ve worried myself sick all day or because I skipped my morning jolt—or, more likely, it’s from last night’s over-indulgence.
As my coffee brews, I search the fridge for something to make for dinner, settling on a salad with some grilled chicken. I set the chicken out to thaw and grab my creamer from the fridge. I mix up my coffee and take it back to the couch where I sink into the soft cushions. I take a sip and instantly melt. I turn on the TV, flipping through channels before settling on Netflix. I keep my eyes on the window, wanting to know exactly when Ben arrives home. That way, if someone knocks on my door, I’ll know it’s him. I tell myself it’s a way to ease my worries, but really all it does is keep me on edge. I finish my coffee and decide on a nap. I lie across the couch and my eyelids fall. Moments later, I’m sound asleep and escaping my embarrassment for the first time for the day.
