Page 2 of Something Real with the Sea Monster
I’m not very good at patient.
Later that night, I’m on the couch with a half-finished bottle of pinot gris and a pizza when my phone screen lights up.
Mark: Hey, sorry about before. It’s been a tough week
That big stupid smile is back, and I’m already typing my reply when the second message comes through.
Mark: there’s actually something we need to talk about. I just couldn’t today
I frown, deleting what I was about to say.
Tegan: what is it? Is everything OK?
There’s a pause. It’s a drawn out, horrible thing, like watching an ant struggle to carry away a dead bug.
Finally a new message appears.
Mark: Look, the long and the short of it is, I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry
I blink at my screen. Then my fingers fly over the letters:Do what?
Mark: this. Us. Listen, I don’t want things to be awkward at work, but I can’t keep seeing you after hours
A sick feeling wells in my stomach, and I wipe my greasy hands on my track pants before I type my next message.
Tegan: you mean you want to wait until the divorce is final? Keep things professional at work?
There’s another long pause. I’m about ready to throw up when his next message finally appears.
Mark: No Tegan. I mean I’m ending things. With us. I’m staying with Stacey.
What the fuck?
I fling my phone across the room in horror. There’s a crack as it hits the wall, and I can almost see the smashed glass on the screen.
This isn’t happening. Not to me. Not like this. I’m the one who leaves relationships. I’m not the one who gets left. And I know Mark. He wasn’t happy with Stacey. She wouldn’t even suck his dick!
I angrily switch the true crime documentary I was watching back on, but I can’t see the screen properly through the tears that are making my vision blurry.
God damn it.
This is absolutely the very last time I cry over a man.
There’s a buzzing from between the cushions on the floor, and like an idiot, I scurry over on my knees, brushing away my tears. It’s probably Mark ringing to apologize. Ringing to say he’s made a mistake and is definitely leaving his wife and wants to take me away for a weekend getaway to make it up to me.
Instead, it’s my best friend, Mia. I’m about to swipe to dismiss the call when my stomach does a guilty flip. This would be the third call of hers I have ignored in a row, and I miss her so much since she moved to Kraken Cove, a tiny little coastal town a few hours south.
The phone keeps ringing, and I stare at the little icon on the screen, unable to decide what to do. Another second and another, and my palms are sweaty and the guilty knot twists tighter in my belly.
Hastily I swipe right and put the phone to my ear. “Hey, sorry. I lost my phone down the side of the couch. How are you?” I don’t know why I felt compelled to lie. I’m flustered, I guess.
Mia’s voice is warm. “Hey, Teegs. I’m good. How are you? I feel like it’s been ages since we talked.”
“Yeah, sorry. I’ve just—” My words catch in my throat, and I have to force them out around the lump that’s formed there. “I’m just having a rough week.” I hate that I’ve just repeated Mark’s words to Mia. I wish I could take them back. My best friend deserves better.
“Oh no. Is it work?”
I sniff. “Sort of.”
