Page 121 of Daily Grind
She nodded and stepped forward to grip him on the shoulder, a warm, friendly touch. “Start by going home and relaxing. The shop will be fine, I promise.”
He had to trust her.Hadto. Didn’t have anyone else and he wasn’t functioning. Too exhausted. Too strung-out. He ditched his apron, gave her a wave, and walked out the door.
He was greeted by a warm, partly cloudy day. Perfect for biking, hiking, or grilling. He wouldn’t be doing any of those, least of all with Rob.
Brian trudged up Murray to Darlington, body aching the entire way, and climbed the stairs into his warm and stuffy apartment. Throwing open all the windows helped, as did changing into shorts. He left off the t-shirt.
Though his stomach whined at him to eat something, the thought of food roiled. Nothing in the fridge looked palatable and his cabinets were empty, but for soup.
Too warm for that.
Delivery meant pizza but none of the good places delivered, so he might as well throw on a shirt and go out for something healthier. Greener. He’d been consuming a whole bunch of crap lately. Except dining out would remind him he was alone and why.
He flopped on his bed and stared at the ceiling, fingers and toes tingling and twitchy. Now that he was home, he couldn’t relax, not when his head hurt and his heart felt too heavy to be lodged in his rib-cage.
He’d never hurt this bad from a breakup. Usually there was heartache, but also an underlying sense of relief, of freedom. A chance to do his own thing. Focus on the shop. Photography. Whatever.
Now? Only the hollow depths of anguish and a deep sense that he’d done something horrible and irreversible.
He’d fucked up. This time, he’d completely fucked up.
Still no response on his phone. He checked the time—midafternoon—and called again. Once more, he got voice mail immediately.
That… wasn’t good. He slid the phone onto his nightstand. Usually it rang a couple of times, even when Rob had it muted. A creeping sensation gnawed up his body and he covered his eyes. More and more likely Rob had blocked him. No reply would come. Rob didn’t want to hear from him at all.
He sat up slowly and studied his bedroom. He’d lived on the sparse side since starting Grounds N’at, first out of necessity, later practicality. The shop ate a decent amount of time even when it ran smoothly. Besides, other than photo editing, he preferred activities that kept him out of the house and enjoying life.
Right now? Life was shit. Work was shit. Brian closed his eyes and tried to slow the pace of his heart.
When he and Anita had broken up, he’d spent his next day off in the Laurel Highlands, hiking. Now he couldn’t muster the energy to walk a couple of blocks to get a damn meal.
When his phone rang, he nearly jumped out of his skin.
Rob?
He snatched it up, but no, it was Len. Brian steeled himself—Len always knew when he was upset, just from his voice. Still, he went for chipper and upbeat when he answered. “Hey, bro, how are you?”
A pause on the other end let Brian know he’d blownthatperformance. “I’m fine. On layover in Atlanta. Figured I’d call and catch up.” Another pause, then the inevitable question. “What’s wrong?”
Everything. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I—uh. It’s the shop. And Rob and—” His voice caught in his throat.
A shuffle of something on the line. He imagined Len leaning forward like he did in person. “Shit, Bri. Did you break up with him?”
“Yeah,” he whispered. He had. That moment—Rob’s slapping down forty dollars and walking out—the paleness of his skin and his haunted look—it was now etched in Brian’s memory. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.
A sigh from Len. “Please tell me it wasn’t because he’s a guy.”
Brian stopped breathing for a second because he couldn’t believe what Len had said. “No. Why would you—?” Anger sparked in his chest. “Did you think I waslyingabout being bi?” That was thelastthing he expected from his brother.
A sharp laugh. “God, no. Like I said, I’ve known for years. But you did step out for Rob. Didn’t know if this was you getting cold feet… or because of the shop.”
Everything with Rob had felt natural. Right. Exceptthis. “The shop.” Brian swallowed. Never any other reason. All his relationships fell to Grounds N’at—and his pride. “Shop’s been bad. I’m in the red and there are less customers. Higher prices on supplies…”
A grunt. “And you’re working more hours?”
He nodded, though Len couldn’t see that. “I know that bothered Rob. I’ve been there most days.” Too many days. Not enough free time together.
Then, Saturday had happened.
