and shut the door silently. I pressed my forehead against the frosted glass for a moment, and took a few deep breaths. Was this the end? I rubbed my arms against a sudden chill. My stomach burned with the guilt of what we had done. Where there any way to move on?
Chapter Thirteen
Elijah
I watched her go into the office and the door shut slowly behind her. My breath came out in a rush.
Why was I so terrified of speaking to her?
I could still hear Alicia's voice in my head: I swear, if you so much as speak another word to her, I'll leave you.
It wasn't that I was terrified to be alone – I'd had a few years between girlfriends, and when left to my own devices I was quite creative. But I loved Alicia, and I couldn't afford to ruin this.
I ran my hands through my hair and sighed again. Yesterday had just been pure hell, and I didn't know how I could do it again today. I might as well just try to go home early, and avoid the whole thing. I was such a coward, and it made me feel like a fool.
Could I really throw away an eight year friendship with Rochelle, just to keep Alicia? It didn't seem fair.
"Hey," Marion said, drawing me out of my thoughts.
I pushed back from the computer. "What's up?"
She blinked at me. "Really?"
I grabbed a pen from the desk and chewed on it absently. "Really, what?"
"Really, no 'Go away, M' or 'you smell funny, M' or 'how's the brats, M'... you feelin' okay, Elijah?"
"Sure," I said. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Oh, I don't know, maybe because today was the second day in a row that you and Rochelle didn't come in at the same time."
"So? We don't live together, M."
"Yeah, but you and Alicia do, and you have never come in together."
"She has a weird schedule..."
"Well, I'm just sayin'... it's weird, Elijah. When you guys aren't in sync, none of us are."
I really didn't have an answer for her.
"Alex and Tim have been raving about the party on Saturday night; they say it was really a good time. No one got too drunk, and everyone got home safe."
I nodded; she didn't need to know I didn't really remember. "It was a good night."
"So what happened?"
"Nothing, that I know of." It was the truth.
"Elijah, come on, something happened, else you'd still be talking to each other!"
"Look," I said, leaning forward and lowering my voice. "Alicia asked me to focus more time on her, since we're getting married in a week. Is that really so bad?"
"No, but..."
"And I do spend a lot of time with Rochelle, right?"
"Well, outside the office I don't..."
"Marion, the face is, Alicia is my fiancée, and Rochelle is a good friend. I have to get my priorities straight."
She shrugged, and her eyes darted about the room. "Okay, well, I hope whatever is going on doesn't last long, because I just don't like my friends not talking to each other – for whatever reason, okay?" She turned to go.
"Marion," I stopped her. "I need you to do something for me."
Chapter Fourteen
Rochelle
Elijah left around 9am, after tossing his completed articles unceremoniously on my desk without a word.
I braved the work day, hidden in my office. Tears threatened, and sobs thickened my throat more than once.
I cried that night, and wondered how I could fix this. I wanted everything back to the way it was, but it never would be. I knew then that he had remembered, and hated me for it. My dreams were nightmares of our time spent together gone horribly wrong.
The pastor stood stoic and silent behind his podium, his hands clasped on the Bible in front of him. He was decked in black, from shiny shoes to the dull black tie tight around his neck. His eyes avoided the crowd as they wheeled the casket to the platform. It seemed ironic that it was covered in shades of yellow, orange and pinks. Pastels had a difficult assignment: to ring in both new life and death. They struggled to be bringer of both good news and bad. Washed-out colors were appropriate for the fragility of life.
Matt would have hated them all and would have
Chapter Thirteen
Elijah
I watched her go into the office and the door shut slowly behind her. My breath came out in a rush.
Why was I so terrified of speaking to her?
I could still hear Alicia's voice in my head: I swear, if you so much as speak another word to her, I'll leave you.
It wasn't that I was terrified to be alone – I'd had a few years between girlfriends, and when left to my own devices I was quite creative. But I loved Alicia, and I couldn't afford to ruin this.
I ran my hands through my hair and sighed again. Yesterday had just been pure hell, and I didn't know how I could do it again today. I might as well just try to go home early, and avoid the whole thing. I was such a coward, and it made me feel like a fool.
Could I really throw away an eight year friendship with Rochelle, just to keep Alicia? It didn't seem fair.
"Hey," Marion said, drawing me out of my thoughts.
I pushed back from the computer. "What's up?"
She blinked at me. "Really?"
I grabbed a pen from the desk and chewed on it absently. "Really, what?"
"Really, no 'Go away, M' or 'you smell funny, M' or 'how's the brats, M'... you feelin' okay, Elijah?"
"Sure," I said. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Oh, I don't know, maybe because today was the second day in a row that you and Rochelle didn't come in at the same time."
"So? We don't live together, M."
"Yeah, but you and Alicia do, and you have never come in together."
"She has a weird schedule..."
"Well, I'm just sayin'... it's weird, Elijah. When you guys aren't in sync, none of us are."
I really didn't have an answer for her.
"Alex and Tim have been raving about the party on Saturday night; they say it was really a good time. No one got too drunk, and everyone got home safe."
I nodded; she didn't need to know I didn't really remember. "It was a good night."
"So what happened?"
"Nothing, that I know of." It was the truth.
"Elijah, come on, something happened, else you'd still be talking to each other!"
"Look," I said, leaning forward and lowering my voice. "Alicia asked me to focus more time on her, since we're getting married in a week. Is that really so bad?"
"No, but..."
"And I do spend a lot of time with Rochelle, right?"
"Well, outside the office I don't..."
"Marion, the face is, Alicia is my fiancée, and Rochelle is a good friend. I have to get my priorities straight."
She shrugged, and her eyes darted about the room. "Okay, well, I hope whatever is going on doesn't last long, because I just don't like my friends not talking to each other – for whatever reason, okay?" She turned to go.
"Marion," I stopped her. "I need you to do something for me."
Chapter Fourteen
Rochelle
Elijah left around 9am, after tossing his completed articles unceremoniously on my desk without a word.
I braved the work day, hidden in my office. Tears threatened, and sobs thickened my throat more than once.
I cried that night, and wondered how I could fix this. I wanted everything back to the way it was, but it never would be. I knew then that he had remembered, and hated me for it. My dreams were nightmares of our time spent together gone horribly wrong.
The pastor stood stoic and silent behind his podium, his hands clasped on the Bible in front of him. He was decked in black, from shiny shoes to the dull black tie tight around his neck. His eyes avoided the crowd as they wheeled the casket to the platform. It seemed ironic that it was covered in shades of yellow, orange and pinks. Pastels had a difficult assignment: to ring in both new life and death. They struggled to be bringer of both good news and bad. Washed-out colors were appropriate for the fragility of life.
Matt would have hated them all and would have
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