On The Run: Part Two

Chapter Twenty-Eight - "Delayed Gratification"

I was in such a state of confusion that I simply nodded wordlessly.

What just happened? Was that going to happen all the time? It couldn’t possibly – I was such an insignificant element in the grand scheme of things.

I walked into the apartment as the daze wore off. Stepping into the sitting room, I found Kayla lying on the couch, portraying anything but a sense of urgency, as she stuffed her face with potato chips.

“Kay?”

She sat up, “Oh, hey.”

“What’s up? You said it was urgent.”

She grinned, “It’s been kicking again.”

I always missed it. I smiled, “That’s good.”

“Thought you’d get to feel it this time. It did it for like four minutes straight.”

I sighed and slumped onto the couch next to her, “Next time, I guess.”

“What’s up with you?” Her pregnant belly had risen above her face, so I needed to sit up to see her.

“Um . . . nothing.” Not Kayla. We’d been getting along since her pregnancy, but I was still a little wary of her, so she wasn’t exactly in the confidant position yet. She probably wouldn’t ever be. Fitch and Trey would always be the uncomfortable elephants in the room.

Kayla shrugged, “Okay.” She really didn’t care, unless it had anything to do with her unborn child, and I was okay with that.

I got up and paced, uncomfortable in a place that used to be my home. There was only one person on my mind whenever I walked in, and everything else simply disappeared. I could feel him everywhere, and I longed for him, but even greater, I could feel his absence. His absent presence.

Everyone’s absence.

Trey was in D.C. of course.

Ricky had been taken into the foster care system, because he was under-aged, had no legal guardian, and Benjamin was being investigated, so he couldn’t be associated with that.

Kayla was stubborn and pregnant, so she wasn’t leaving.

I was halfway between dwelling and longing for the past, and moving forward.

“How’s Fitch?” Kayla asked, breaking into my thoughts, “I haven’t gone to court in a while. The entire thing really drags on you know. And this,” she pointed at the belly, “Well . . . I’d just rather stay home sometimes.”

I stared at her blankly for a second and murmured, “Um . . . yeah. I don’t know.”

She frowned, as she sat up on her elbows, “What do you mean? Is he hopeful or . . . angry or just sad?”

“I don’t know, Kay. I don’t . . . I haven’t seen him since— We broke up. I don’t know how he’s doing,” I snapped.

She stared at me silently and lay back down.

If I didn’t feel uncomfortable before, I certainly did now. I pulled out my phone; I had an open invitation to have a late lunch with Courtney and Megan at Saks. As much as I didn’t want to be in a place where they’d drag me to look at these shoes and this bag, it was starting to seem like a more appealing option by the minute.

“I’m going to go. I have . . . I have to go,” I said, heading for the door.

“Chloe, look. I know this is a sore topic, but don’t . . . you can’t just . . . so he broke up with you, so what?”