Page 132 of When In Doubt

It’s mild enough now that I don’t really need my coat anymore, but I still pull it around me. Even with the early May sun, I can’t get warm. The walk feels like it takes four times longer than usual, but the store finally comes into sight.

My eyes catch on something in the doorway. What is that? It’s too early for a delivery—has someone littered on my front step?

My pace picks up until I’m stomping towards whatever it is, but when the brown bag comes into focus, it stops me in my tracks.

Of course.

It’s a takeout bag from Becca’s, an insulated cup tucked behind it. Written on the bag in Oscar’s loping scrawl is my name. My stomach turns leaden. He left this here? After everything that happened, he’s still leaving me lunch? I hesitate to pick it up, almost like it might bite me, but once I’ve worked up the nerve to touch it, I can’t get the bag open fast enough.

I don’t need to check what’s in the cup to know it’s exactly what I want. The bag contains a pesto melt sandwich, a croissant, and a cookie. God, he’s so good. My knees feel shaky as I unlock the door and head in. It’s only been a day, but the room feels different. Colder.

I sink into my chair and tuck the sandwich into my drawer for later. The cup sits on the wood surface, taunting me. This is why getting involved with someone was a bad idea, I don’t know how to handle it. I wish Luci was here, I need one of her tight hugs that kept everything from tumbling down. As soon as I told her what happened she tried to move her flights to visit sooner, but everything was already booked up.

I spread out a napkin on the desk and start to pick at the croissant, ignoring the way my fingers tremble. I make it through three bites before the tears come. Everything that’s been bubbling up, everything I’ve tried to keep locked up all starts coming out, and there’s nothing I can do to stem the flow.

That’s the trouble with letting your walls down, it’s not just the good stuff that gets over them.

A tap on the window makes me jump, and my head whips up to where Becca is frowning from the other side of the glass. You okay? she mouths. I nod, but she just rolls her eyes and points to the door, gesturing for me to unlock it.

I cross to the door and open it reluctantly.

“Oh.” She sighs as she takes in my face. “That bad, huh?”

I shrug. “Just having one of those days.”

She quirks an eyebrow, not believing me for a second. “You know Oscar was in the diner this morning? His face looked a lot like yours does right now.”

I stare at the floor. I’ve dragged him into my whirlpool of misery and now he’s drowning too.

“You guys have a fight or something?” Becca asks.

“No.” I bite the inside of my cheek. “We’re just having a bit of space.”

“That doesn’t usually happen when everything’s all hearts and roses,” she says incredulously.

I gesture for her to follow me as I shuffle back inside, returning to my desk. “It’s fine.” I lean back in my chair, pasting on a casual expression. “It was moving really fast, so we needed to slow down for a minute.”

“And that’s what you want?”

My shoulders slump. I don’t know how much longer I can hold myself up. “It’s for the best.”

Becca perches on the desk, eyes looking like they want to crack me open. “Look, we don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to, but I’m here if you need a friend.”

“We’re friends?” I ask without thinking. What the fuck, Freya?

Becca just laughs. “I sure hope so.”

“I’d really like that,” I breathe.

She reaches out to give my shoulder a squeeze. “Yeah, me too.” Then after a beat, “so, you gonna tell me what’s actually going on or what?”

I deflate, dropping my forehead to the desk. “I kind of fucked things up,” I groan.

“What happened? I’m sure it’s nothing that can’t be fixed. You two are so great together.”

“It is great, I just…” I trail off, not able to find the words.

“Oh, Freya.” She taps the wood. “Look, why don’t you just run me through the events, then we can talk about everything else.”