Roommates with Benefits [18+ only]

49. Just three words

It was easier than I thought. Okay, maybe I had to call in a few favors, pull some strings, but in the end, I made it. I couldn't be happy until I talked to Tara and she forgave me, though. Taking a deep breath, I unlocked the door, and entered the apartment. I saw her running through the living room before I could even step one foot in there.

Sighing, I went to the kitchen, with the two small bags in my hands. One gift was easy, the other cost me a month of rent, but if all this carves at least one single smile out of her, it'll have been worth it. Seeing the half empty mug on the counter, next to the kettle, made me waver in my resolution, though.

She ran off as soon as she heard I was home. There was this part of me, this ... hidden, repressed side of me that was afraid, I can't deny it. I mean, what if talking to her makes everything worse? What if she confirms we're done and she doesn't want to see me again? I've never been so scared like I am of losing her.

Nevertheless, I ought to man up and face the consequences of my actions. I unpacked one gift, and left the mug I bought on the same spot as the one she was using before leaving in a hurry. That time when she caught Sheila kissing me, her favorite mug broke into so many pieces, I thought I should replace it with something better. I considered buying a similar one, but then I didn't – in a way, it would have been like rehashing the past.

With the second packet in my pocket, I headed to her room. I listened in for a few moments, but I heard nothing. Did she fall asleep? I knocked at least three times before getting an annoyed "what?" in response.

"I bought Chinese, if you're hungry." That was a lie, but food usually works.

"I'm not hungry." Tara spat through the door, clearly still mad.

"You need to eat something." I insisted. "Did you take your pills?"

"Not yet ..."

"Why not?"

"Because ... not." That's not much of an answer.

"Did you run out of oxycodone?" I wondered. "Do you need me to go pick it up for you?" The lack of answers was frustrating. "Baby, come on ... I know you're mad at me, but this is about your health. Just tell me what you need. You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to, but please, don't risk your own health just because you're mad at me." I know it's just a dislocated the shoulder, but the discomfort she has been in ever since she fell in the bathtub, the waves of pain she barely gets through, it's worrying. I even asked the doctor without Tara hearing, but the woman said it was normal.

Thankfully, Tara opened the door, albeit not entirely. "Where's the food?"

"In the kitchen."

She furrowed her eyebrows at me. "You tricked me."

I shrugged. "Desperate times ..." before she could try to close the door on my face, I put my foot on the threshold. "You do need to take your pills and eat something."

"I'm perfectly fine."

Ugh, always so stubborn. "For God's sake, don't be such a child!" I groaned, losing it for a moment.

She narrowed her eyes at me. "A child is what I am, didn't you say that? It's only fair to act like one."

I rolled my eyes, pulling back. I wasn't getting nowhere by force. Sighing heavily, I dropped back against the wall opposite to her door. Honesty is the best policy, right? "I really am sorry," I stated, raking a hand over my face out of tiredness – I didn't sleep a wink last night –, "I know what I said was horrible ... I didn't mean it. I didn't mean any of it."

"How do I know that's not just sense of guilt talking?" Tara leaned against the doorframe. "Just because you say sorry, doesn't mean the damage will be deleted, Lukas."