Page 38 of Debts and Desires
Instead of dwelling on it, I took my guitar and notebook to the back porch and tried to come up with something, anything. It took a few minutes of warming and playing random chords, but I was able to get a small portion of a song written—the first since I’d been here. I smiled, happy with myself as I played it again, making minor adjustments.
I’m just buildinga sandcastle in an hourglass.
A grain of sand isn’t worth your soul
One grain is gold, give your soul.
I was happy with what I had done and the corrections so far. I’d iron everything else out, eventually. It was just nice to have some kind of idea. I picked up my phone to check the time.
“Shit!” I said, scrambling to my feet. I grabbed my things and headed back in. I hadn’t been paying attention to the time and only had forty or so minutes to make dinner. Once my things were put away, I headed to the kitchen and began checking the cabinets, hoping to find something quick to make. I grabbed a jar of pasta sauce and spaghetti noodles and began cooking. Miraculously, Carter had a bag of frozen meatballs and frozen garlic bread, too. He must’ve planned this dinner at some point, and I was thankful.
I barely got it all finished and set the table a little after five thirty. It was just a waiting game, then. At about six fifteen, I decided to go ahead and get my plate together and eat. He was probably having an issue at the shop again and would want me to go ahead. To be safe, I texted him.
Emmy
Are you coming home for dinner?
I made spaghetti.
Thirty more minutes went by and there was no answer. I began to wonder if our conversation earlier had anything to do with him not being there. With a sigh, I stood and headed toward the cabinet, grabbing some food storage containers. How could he possibly bethatbusy on a Sunday?
I sent another an hour or so later.
Emmy
I’m still taking an hour off for dinner even if you didn’t eat it. Asshole.
Nothing.
I could’ve screamed. Instead, I made sure Mac had his kibble and headed upstairs to my room. I made sure the door was locked before heading to the bathroom to get ready for bed.
I woke to a loud noise,followed by a grumbled, “Shit,” as a figure stumbled in. My door shut and there was a “shhh” right after. I turned the lamp on, making Carter wince some before he lifted his shirt over his head, tossing it on the floor. The clock read two ten in the morning.
“Didn’t mean to wake you, Buttercup.”
“What are you doing?” I hissed.
“Comin’ to bed. What’s it look like?”
“Your bed is down the hall.”
“I wanna be with you.”
“Well, I don’t want you near me. Hence why the door was locked.” I gestured to the door. He didn’t seem to care. “How did you get in?” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a key before sitting at the foot of my bed. He turned to me slightly, his eyes glazed over as he handed the key to me. “Are you drunk?”
“Nah… Well, maybe a little,” he said, untying, then kicking off his boots. He stood again, swaying as he undid his belt. It took him a few tries before he finally got it, shedding his jeans not long after. Now completely naked, he crawled in bed beside me, fighting with the covers some. Carter placed his arm over my stomach and pulled me into him. He breathed in, as if sniffing my hair, and let out a sigh of content. I let out an agitated grunt as I pushed him away and got out of bed.
“Where you goin’?” he asked, sadness in his voice.
“Down the hall.” He went to sit up. “No. Not you. Me. You’re staying. I’m leaving.”
“Don’t leave, Buttercup. I’m sorry.”
“Do you even know why you’re sorry?” I asked, crossing my arms.
“What do you want me to be sorry for?”
“How about being a dick all the time? Or not giving me the decency to text so I wouldn’t have wasted my time making dinner tonight only to put it all away? Or how about not letting me get a job for whatever weird, selfish reason you have?” He stared at me, his eyes barely focused.
