Chapter Thirty-Nine

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Blue

Fuck.

Every bone in my body shuts down except for my feet that carry me over to the door. I curve my hand around the door knob and begin to open it, to chase after her, and kiss her, and ask for another chance, and to beg for her forgiveness when I don't deserve her in the first place, but I don't have the heart to do it. Instead of making this shitty situation any shittier, I take a step back and contemplate what the hell I am doing before intensifying her hatred toward me. Even thinking she despises me makes my chest hurt and my head fuzzy. But, then again, that could be the high I'm floating on, have been for the past forty-eight hours.

Going after her when she's this irritated would only result in one scenario: my head on a stake. Not literally, but I'd rather it be literal than her scowling at me like she just did before slamming the door in my face, for the second time today. To be fair, I did the same before I left, but she crossed a fucking line, then. I barely did anything wrong. Sure, I left her for a few days, but it wasn't like I stayed away for a month or something. She went through my shit and had the nerve to be mad at me because I wouldn't tell her what Amanda brought me. When she forgave me and gave us another chance, I was so fucking excited, so over the moon. But just because we are a couple, that doesn't give her the right to demand to know where I am or what I'm doing; I didn't agree for her to interrogate me all the time.

I shift my focus from her disappearing act to the present. I'm hungry as hell and I may as well watch a movie while she walks around town, contemplating what she should do with me, before coming back home. I love Lily with all that I have and more, I'm willing to do anything for her. And I know she feels the exact same way about me. We piss each other off, we make each other feel whole, and we're not right for each other, but that doesn't stop us from defying societal standards. If it came down to it, I would eagerly be slayed for. And no matter how much she seems done with me at the moment, I know she will forgive me, because you forgive the ones you love.

Where ever she is going, she will be back.

I'm delightfully surprised to find my favorite dish, lasagna in the fridge. My heart aches at the image of Lily cooking it for me that first night I was gone. The pain intensifies as I imagine her watching TV and wearing one of my shirts, waiting for me to walk through the front door. I pull out my phone and contemplate calling her, to ask for her to come back, but I can't. She left. She wanted to go, so I'll give her space and let her think before coming back home. It's already been five minutes. I give her another half hour before waltzing through the door, demanding me to explain myself and kissing to makeup.

In the meantime, I'm hungry as fuck and the bite I take of the cold dish is delicious. I warm up a huge slice—nearly the whole fucking pan—and grab a can of beer and walk into the living room. I take note of how the floor shines and there's not one speck of dust on the TV or coffee table, or anything really. Even the wall of windows is spotless and shiny. Did she get on one of those rope things outside the building and clean them? I wouldn't be surprised, she loves to clean. I'm pretty sure she does it as a 'fun' activity. Of course, she considers cleaning as a pastime.

I queue up Netflix and click on the first thing that pops up, a show called How to Get Away with Murder. Unease winds through me. I have no idea what this show is about, but the title makes me nervous. She couldn't possibly be angry enough to plot my murder... right? No—no, of course not, she loves me. But that doesn't stop me from squirming as I watch a few episodes. I'm so confused by what the hell is going on and how the writers could jam pack these many plots into every episode, but it grabs my attention and has me on the edge of my seat. It'd be even better if Lily were next to me, scolding me for making commentary and laughing when I should be silent, trying to hide her beautiful smile behind my arm, but she'll be here soon enough.

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