Page 87 of Skating the Blue Line
Is she crying?
There is no hesitation in opening her bedroom door and figuring out what is going on.
As soon as I step into the room, I find Chloe sitting on the middle of her bed with tears in her eyes and clothes surrounding her.
It looks like her closet exploded.
“Hey.” I say, closing the door behind me and walking over to her bed, taking a seat next to her.
Chloe sniffles some more, wiping her nose on the back of her hand.
“Hi,” she says, a tear rolling down her cheek.
“You want to tell me why you’re crying?” I ask, reaching out and bushing away some hair and tucking it behind her ear.
She shakes her. “No, because you’re going to judge me.”
“I won’t judge you,” I state.
Chloe gives me an eye roll and I think she’s about to tell me to go fuck myself when she gives in and tells me.
“None of my clothes fit,” she says, this time wiping her nose with the sleeve of the jersey she still has on. “When I got out of the Uber tonight, my pants ripped. I thought they were just old and had been wearing them a lot, they were about to rip anyway. So what do I do, I come up here and decide to try on all the other pairs of pants that I have, to find my next favorite and guess what? Not a single pair fits. The only thing that fits are my leggings and even those feel tight.”
Pants.
She’s crying about pants.
I was prepared for a lot of things, but this wasn’t one of them.
In a few hours, I went from being on the highest of highs, to sitting with the woman who isn’t my girlfriend while she cries about her pants not fitting her.
“We can go to the store and buy you new pants tomorrow.” I suggest.
“I don’t want to buy new ones. I want the ones that I already have.”
Of course she does.
“Sweetheart, your body is going to keep changing, so the ones you already have aren’t going to fit for a while. We can save those for after the baby comes.”
Daggers. All I get is daggers directed right at me and if they were real I wouldn’t have any eyes, maybe even lose a tongue.
“You know if it wasn’t for your pretty smile, charming personality and your magic dick, I wouldn’t be here crying about pants.” She spits out.
Damn, she’s feisty when she wants to be and I’m not going to lie, I like more than I should.
“Me and my magic dick apologize.” I try to say it with a straight face, but I can’t. A laugh that I try to hold in leaves my mouth and more daggers get thrown at me.
“Get out and let me wallow with my pants.” she says, shoving me off the bed and out of the room.
The more I laugh the more I get cursed out by hazel eyes.
Eventually there is a door between us and even though I’m laughing at the whole situation, I can’t help but feel bad.
“Chloe, I’m sorry.” I say to the door and all I get is a grunt in return.
Great. Instead of consoling her, I pissed her off. Over pants.
I rake my hand through my hair, knowing that messed up and start making my way over to my bedroom.
