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After a while, she decided waiting in the bedroom was counterproductive to leaving the building, so she made her way to the front part of the office.
Garrett’s shiny sleek desktop was password protected, so she settled on the couch with her phone, streaming a movie on the tiny screen.
Look at you, you fancy bitch.
As little as three months ago, the phone screen would have been huge to her. More than adequate to watch a movie. Now, thanks to Garrett’s many flatscreens, it was too small.
Soon you’ll be putting on airs.Emma had read that phrase in a book and it had stuck in her head. It was too late, she thought, nestling deeper on the couch.
She was already a fancy bitch.
“Hey.”
Emma looked up. Fletcher was standing at the threshold, holding a manila folder in front of him like a shield.
“Oh, hi,” she said, putting her legs down and sitting up straight.
“I was looking for Garrett.”
“I thought he was with you,” she said.
“He was until ten minutes ago.”
She lifted a shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”
Emma went back to her movie, expecting him to leave, but he didn’t. After a minute she looked up and he was watching her with this weird considering expression on his face.
“I’m sorry, is there something I could help you with?”
“No.” Fletcher shook his head. “I was just thinking. Life is…”
“Yeah?” she prompted when hetrailed off.
“I was just thinking. Life is so weird.” He scratched his thinning hair. “You know, the way things turn out.”
Fletcher gestured to her as if she hadn’t figured out who he was talking about.
“Seeing you like this,” he continued. “Here waiting for Garrett like a… a…”
“A wife?” she asked.
“Yeah!” Fletcher’s answering laugh sounded forced.
Emma pressed her lips together, the unpleasant realization that she’d been living in a bubble hitting her just as it burst.
Most of Garrett’s friends were nice and supportive. They liked seeing him with someone. Except for Fletcher. He was from their hometown.
She didn’t know what he saw when he looked at her, but she didn’t like it.
Emma was about to ask what his problem was, but Fletcher was feeling chatty and was ready to tell her.
“It’s just that you and Garrett were always at each other’s throats.” Fletcher leaned against the doorjamb with exaggerated casualness. “Seeing you this way, so domestic. I mean you’re hiswifenow. It takes some getting used to. And to think it would never have happened without the accident.”
Emma must not have looked as offended as she felt because he didn’t run away like he should have.
“Because somehow I started working here?” she asked.
“No. Well, yes, but also no.” Fletcher pushed away from the door. “I just meant you and Garrett, getting together.”