Page 85 of Smash

About an hour later, I heard yelling from downstairs.

It was Calder and Rafe.

I couldn’t understand everything they said as their voices echoed up the stairwell. My heart raced as I considered whether to go down there. But then I heard someone coming up the stairs just as my phone chimed with a text.

Rafe: He’s drunk. If he tries anything, come downstairs.

When Calder walked into the apartment, I could smell the alcohol on him. But rather than say anything, he charged toward the bedroom and slammed the door.

CHAPTER 24

After two days of silence, I’d decided not knowing what Calder was thinking had to be worse than anything he could say.

There had still been no explosion. No big blow up, no drag-out shouting match, no packing my shit and tossing it to the curb. Just…existence. I went to work. Calder went to work. I came home. He showed up hours later smelling like booze and marched straight to the bedroom, slamming the door. I slept on the couch. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. And it felt absolutely awful.

I’d always been a planner. I thrived on stability, on having goals, on knowing my next step before I took it. My mind couldn’t function without structure. Floating in the wind, feeling like my direction could change at any second with the slightest gust, was a fate worse than Calder being cruel.

Cruel I could handle.

Cruel I deserved.

Silence kept me in a constant state of on-edge.

Tonight, I checked the time on my phone for what was probably the tenth time since I’d gotten home at seven. It was 9:38. No sign of Calder. No sign of Rafe. Just me and my horrible, soul-crushing thoughts.

I paced the living room, stopped when I realized I was doing it, and then thought hell, why not? and paced some more. I tried to distract myself. Turned on the TV. Turned it off five minutes later. Put in my AirPods and cranked up Taylor Swift. How could she make anyone feel worse? Newsflash: she did.

I organized the mail. Twice. But my mind kept circling back to the same place.

What is Calder thinking?

What is he going to do?

Is he waiting for me to make the first move?

Should I leave?

Should I stay and beg for forgiveness?

Should I…

Could I…

What if…

And I hadn’t even gotten to the tornado of questions swirling around the other man in my life, Rafe.

Why did I do it?

Was I just lonely?

Was I self-sabotaging?

Are the feelings I had with him real?

Am I in love?

With Rafe?