Simmer & Stir

Chapter 19

A couple of days passed since our date debacle. It was also the same amount of time since Philip and I shared a word.

He didn't make an appearance in his office all this while and needless to say, any attempt to call or text him also turned out to be futile. After sending a few abusive voice messages and a few more wrapped in concern, I may have filled his inbox too.

I wouldn't say all my options to contact Philip was exhausted. I still had Sasha and John but the urgency to dial them up and narrate about our little fight suddenly seemed childish. It was Philip who decided to go off the contact map. How was calling his brother going to serve the purpose?

"Ready?" Linda called out from her bedroom while I stretched my body and acted too tired for an evening stroll. "Come on, get up."

I was too tired of watching my phone like a hawk and crying like it was my fault, pushing Philip off the grid.

"You still haven't changed?" Coiling her arms on her sides, Linda stared at me with a look that could send anyone packing to a hospital.

"I don't feel like doing anything. You go."

"Listen," she fell onto our quicksand couch and brushed off my fringes, falling over my eyes. "You're thinking too much about this because he was your first serious boyfriend. But he is, sorry to say this, being a jerk right now."

"He isn't. You should have seen the hurt that I saw when that waiter-"

"I'm not saying about the time at the restaurant where he felt being wronged. I'm talking about the time when he asked you for time and then up and left." Linda grabbed me up from my sink into her monstrous couch which seemed to devourer me. "Philip is justified in acting hurt for all things regarding his vision but he still has no right to hurt you in turn. That's where he is acting-"

"Jerk, I get it." Somehow my innate sense to protect him, even from Linda's verbal confrontation rose. She was right. But what she didn't understand was the part that men like Philip and John, who go to war fronts came back metamorphosed.

They changed from their true selves and become someone quite different. Their attitude and attributes weren't molded by day to day struggles at work but by the struggles of survival itself. If men like them threw a hissy fit, it wasn't for attention. It would only be for genuine reasons, things they needed to have control over.

"So how about this." Linda clapped her hands near my ears, trying to get my attention. "We take a quick walk and then I'll leave and get groceries and you can come back."

"If that's the plan, then why take me out? I can walk in here itself."

Linda may be very patient at work but the strings of her patience ran thin when I talked back. She plucked me up from the couch like a lifeless doll before shoving me outside. She locked the door and rattled the keys.

"You can now walk with me or sit here till I return."

Imagine the slump I had been swimming in for I looked at the marble lobby for minutes, contemplating if it was indeed a good idea to sit and wait for her to return.

"Fine," I tossed my hands up in surrender. There was no winning with her today.

"You'll love it," she cheered me up, rattling my slump shoulders on our way down. "It's gonna be fun."

The walk outside was refreshing but I wouldn't admit it to her. Linda would gloat and do her happy dance, all to rub it in my face. I was content, knowing that if tomorrow I felt like my life suddenly had no purpose, I can jog and set my mind straight.