Page 61 of Between Never and Forever

Me: Ha. Ha. So funny.

Dex: I’m not kidding.

My eyes flew to the dresser, and my mind wandered around thoughts it shouldn’t be having. Did he think I was using it now? Did he actually think I couldn’t handle it?

Instead of worrying over it, I rushed out of my room and down the hall to the kitchen as I texted back.

Me: Don’t be ridiculous. Most guys do not want that in the morning.

At least not one I’d ever met. I’d only fooled around a handful of times, but I knew a man only was going to do that if I reciprocated.

Dex: I’m not most guys. I’m your fiancé and I want your pussy in the morning. Noon. And night. No doubt about it. Doesn’t mean I’m stupid enough to indulge in it.

My whole body shivered and then balked at his words. My fiancé knew how dirty to be through text. I shouldn’t have been partaking in it, but I knew if I ignored him or showed weakness, he’d think I couldn’t handle any of it.

Me: Well, doesn’t matter because you shouldn’t expect me to give you a meal if you can’t join me for one.

Dex: Food was catered up for you, heartbreaker. Had you been up, you could have eaten with me.

That text was what began the muddling of my emotions. Without acting like he cared, he still somehow managed to show me he did. My breakfast was scrambled eggs and a cinnamon roll. It was what I loved so long ago for breakfast, and time hadn’t changed a thing when it came to my taste buds.

I didn’t know how to thank him for it, didn’t know if he even wanted a thank you. So, I didn’t text him back. I didn’t text him that night either, even though I heard him in his office at dinnertime. I couldn’t even bring myself to knock on the door.

We were strangers who’d once been lovers and were now wobbling on a tightrope of indecision as to whether or not we could be anything more.

The whole next week, though, breakfast seemed to be the one thing that unraveled me. I wanted to share a meal with him, and I knew he ate at home, so I woke up earlier and earlier. Truth be told, I wasn’t an early riser, but I wanted to catch him before he left.

The first day it was 9 a.m.

Then 8:30 a.m.

Then 8 a.m.

Then, I told myself I didn’t need to talk to him. I had rehearsals and other things to do.

I went the whole weekend and even Monday and Tuesday of the next week trying to ignore him.

The following Wednesday, though, I woke up at 7 a.m.

Was he avoiding me?

Every morning, my cinnamon bun and scrambled eggs were there waiting, but now he didn’t text me about them. I tried not to let it get to me. I focused on how I needed my performances to be great rather than on how I felt about what was happening between Dex and me.

That was nothing.

It couldn’t be.

I finally woke up at 5:45 a.m. the next day and called my dad. He gave me updates on my mom like always. Then he rushed me off the phone because she kept asking who he was talking to.

She sounded so cheery, so lucid, so normal. “Tell her I love her today, Dad.”

“Will do, Kee. Ah, your mother says do well in school today. She says you shouldn’t be using that cell.” He sighed at the storyline I knew all too well. Then he stopped for a second as my mother instructed him. “Your mom wants me to tell you that majoring in music for college is only possible if you focus on your grades.”

“Right,” I whispered out. “Love you. Miss you both.”

Mornings were hard when I talked to him, but they would have been lacking if I didn’t call. I swiped away a lone tear before I turned.

I jumped back and grasped at my heart. “Jesus, what are you doing here?”