Never

Chapter 4

My head aches when I rub the warm cloth over the bruise on my cheek. I cringe at my reflection in the mirror. My light eyes are circled by dark. My head is pounding, throbbing with each blink of my eyes and the color from my face has been drained in the night

“Tessa?” My mother knocks on the bathroom door.

I sigh and toss the towel into the sink. I woke up early today, before the sun, to have a little time to myself, but my mother obviously has other plans.

“Just a moment, please.” I turn the water back on and sit down on the cool toilet seat. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, or why I feel like I don’t want to be around my mother or Noah right now. I feel suffocated for some reason, like they aren’t letting me breathe. I know it’s not true, but I feel it. I need more medicine, that’s probably the problem. 

When I finally turn the faucet off and open the door, my mother is leaning against the wall. 

“Oh, you didn’t shower?” She questions, looking at me from head to toe.

“Not yet.” My voice is low, raspy and weak.

I tug on the frayed edge of my worn t-shirt and shift uncomfortably as she silently judges me. “Is there a reason that I need to be ready? It’s barely eight in the morning.

“Yes I know but I made lunch plans with the Porters down at the new steak house across town. You know, it’s supposed to be really nice so,” she finishes her sentence with another glance over my body.

“Got it.” I sigh and close the door. The hot shower wakes me and relaxes me. By the time I meet my mother in the kitchen my hair has been tamed and curled, resting against my shoulders and down my back. I don’t wear much makeup usually but today I borrowed some concealer from my mother’s basket to help hide the bruising from last night’s accident.

My maroon dress is ironed and my tights are lint free, my comfortable shoes are my favorite part of the outfit.

“Much, much better. Doesn’t she look beautiful?” My mother turns to Noah who’s sitting at the table, a cup of steaming tea in his hands. I will never understand how he could ever dislike coffee; it makes absolutely no sense to me.

“Yes she does.” Noah smiles at me and stands to kiss my cheek. I lean into him, wondering if he can feel how thick the air is, how awkward the energy in this house feels.

I mumble thanks to them and pour myself a cup of coffee. I take a moment and rest my elbows against the kitchen sink counter and look outside. The sun is out now, hanging bright in the sky, willing me to be in a better mood.

I’m lucky that I got out of that car with only a few bruises and scratches. It could have been so much worse. It is so much worse for Jace, the driver. He was on something and he put me in danger but I can’t help but worry for him. Is he okay? I sure hope so 

Noah’s lips touch my cheek again and I realize he’s been talking to me the entire time. “I’ll meet you at the restaurant.” He says, smiling.

It’s still too early to leave for lunch so my mother drags me to Macy’s, her favorite store. We walk through the woman’s department, shoe department, back to the woman’s department, up and down up and down. My mother buys me a latte, helping my headache slightly, and I put on a bright smile for her.

By the time we make it to our lunch reservation, the Porters are all seated, a bottle of wine already opened and resting in a bucket of ice in the center of the table.

“Theresa dear,” Mr. Porter stands to greet me. His blonde hair has faded to slightly gray and his blue eyes are guarded yet concerned as he hugs me. “We were so worried when your mother called us with the news.” He kisses my cheek, the way his son does, and gestures to the empty chair across from him.