Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 129110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
"I've been the worst," Travis' voice knocks me out of my daze.
I open the door.
"How was the concert?"
"Great," I mumble, pushing past him.
He follows as I get ready for bed.
"Come on, don't sleep on the couch again," he groans. "I don't want to lose this."
I narrow my stare, wondering what happened to him that's changed his tune.
He seems different.
But so am I.
I almost think about asking him. Part of me wants to know why he's always on his phone and computer, and about the girls, especially the one from work, and his moodiness and constant attitude, but I stop myself, because it doesn't matter. I don't care anymore. I bite my lip as tears threaten my eyes. "I'm so sorry I can't do this anymore."
Asher or not, I do deserve better than Travis.
"What does that mean?"
"I'll move out this week."
"No, Elle, don't do that! We can work this out."
I shake my head.
"Okay, so a break. Maybe we just take some time. Moving out is drastic, Elle. Don't throw away two years."
"Goodnight, Travis."
I shut him on the other side of the bathroom door and get in the shower.
By the time I get out the bedroom door is closed.
By 3am I’m still wide-awake.
My thoughts are jumbled - elated, confused, and hell, even messy. My kiss with Asher meant everything, yet I'm well on my way to convincing myself that it didn't. Plus getting out of a two year relationship needs time. I should be single right now.
Yet my thoughts are getting twisted.
Soon I can't tell the difference between not wanting to be with anyone right now or not wanting to be with anyone but Asher.
I have to remind myself that I sound ridiculous.
It was one kiss.
But that's how the cycle began.
And it's mean and vicious and drives me crazy, all the way until light is shinning through the windows.
Post-Asher-Make-Out, Day One
Does it count as a new day if I had yet to fall asleep?
At that first sign of light I can't wait any longer.
With heavy eyes and indecision I throw my things into boxes and make a million trips to my car.
It takes hours.
The next thing I know I'm picking my things up off the sidewalk.
It all happened so fast.
Travis was less than thrilled to find my things nearly gone when he woke. Then it got ugly.
Mean words. Unpleasant confessions. Lots of yelling.
He started tossing my remaining things out the window.
I guess it's officially over.
After I finish picking my stuff up off the concrete I call out of work and drive upstate.
Mom is waiting outside as I pull into the driveway.
She holds me as I cry.
Weird thing is I don't even know what I'm more upset about.
I feel lost.
By that evening my thoughts return to Asher.
I should call him.
Why did I walk out like that?
Post-Asher-Make-Out, Day Two
The following morning I try to call out of work again but Amelia pretty much says I’m fired if I don’t show up with my concert review.
Honestly, I’m tempted.
Maybe a fresh start is exactly what I need.
I chicken out though.
I don’t know if I can totally uproot everything right now. One change at a time and I already feel like I'm in the the midst of a million different things.
Thanks to my new commute it takes forever. It's something I definitely didn’t take into consideration in all of this.
Travel time.
Traffic.
Tolls.
Parking.
Gas.
Shit at this point I should have just stayed at a hotel.
When I arrive everyone is still talking about Sunday's concert. They ask about my thoughts before I even have the chance to set my bag down on my desk.
I say it was good.
Good.
I realize I've gone nearly two days without talking to anyone about it, and I still can't say a thing.
I can't tell anyone Asher and I kissed, or that I messed up and walked out and we haven't spoken since, and I don't know what to do now.
Later that afternoon Asher's full album details are released.
An hour after that Amelia calls an emergency staff meeting when new photos of him roaming around LA hit the Internet.
Two hours later I'm still gawking at the same picture of him leaving a meeting.
Sam pops her head over my cubicle and it startles the crap out of me.
“Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?”
"Uh, yeah."
I quickly ex out of the screen like I wasn’t doing anything dumb.
Nope, not at all.
I expect her to take a seat but she spins and heads out the door, which is weird.
I follow, surprised when we end up in the ladies room.
The door closes behind us and she starts checking under the stalls.
“Um, is everything okay?”
“How are you feeling?” Her tone is accusing.
"I'm... good?"
“You left in such a rush at the concert and then called out yesterday.”
She’s definitely acting strange. Is she that mad I ditched her?
“Oh yeah. I'm better, thanks,” I shift my weight from foot to foot, treading lightly.