I nervous clean the house while the boys sleep on the sofa, while Connor has an appointment with his doctors and while I wait for my doctor to make a house call.
I've baked, I've prepped dinner and I've reorganised the kitchen drawers.
My refrigerator sparkles.
Work is quiet and I think Terrence may be making up for his own absence and covering my workload too.
I watch the way Donny and Jerome both have their heads on the back of the sofa and their feet up on the ottoman, they don't look exactly comfortable but I envy their sleep.
I'm tired.
I'm too nervous to sleep, visions of everything I've heard today fill my mind.
How do they sleep?
What if Jerome's vest didn't catch the bullet?
What if they took his arm?
What if it was Donny with the case?
Would Jerome be able to save him?
I hear the screams of the children Connor couldn't save...
I see him laying on a dirt road covered in blood, my baby brother.
I remember when he was little and he skinned his knee running from a bully, I remember the anger I felt as I punched that stupid bully in the nose.
I can't protect him now, not from everything he does.
My stomach churns with sickness and worry.
I run down the hall to the bathroom and empty my stomach, I sit in the bathroom and cry for everything I can't change.
Everything I can't make better.
I cry because I need the one person who isn't here.
She's gone and left me when I need her the most.
With the phone in my pocket I type out an email.
Luce....
Today is not a good day, don't worry, Myles has been quiet since the fucker couldn't fit through my broken window.
Donny's back, Jerome just barely.
I haven't thrown up this much since that road trip we took in Mexico, neither a bad burrito or tequila is to blame this time.
I think it's anxiety.... Real, debilitating, anxiety.
The boys are sleeping and I'm here writing this to you from my locked toilet floor.
I wish I could talk to you, I hear your voice in my head.
The "and why do you think that is?" Rolls through my thoughts when I question every emotion I have. But I can't see your face, I can't read your eyes when I'm getting close to figuring myself out.
I'm too tired, I'm too lost... I just need you to tell me.
Tell me I'm okay.
In what I guess is some good news, Jerome hasn't gone home since he first stayed, I bought him a pillow... it's just a pillow, no big deal. But he noticed, he smiled.
God, that smile nearly undid me... we're so close during sex, I can kiss him without anything held back when Donny is there.
But alone together..... the slightest touch feels like so much more.
I like it.
I like him.
Tell me how this ends, who gets hurt?
It's not like I love Donny any less, it's possible I love him even more.
The sex... mind blowing, Donny is insatiable right now, we all are.
Tell me I'm not a bad person for letting this happen.
Oh yeah, Connor dropped by... he caught me with Jerome, he looks at me like I'm an abomination.
Or maybe it's because Jerome dropped his ass to the floor thinking Connor was another guy I just slept with while my boys are being shot at on the job.
What?
I can't have a half naked man in my kitchen that I haven't fucked?
Oh yeah, Connor is about to kill your ex, I don't think it was hyperbole, we can hope I guess. His eyes lit up when I told him you were single.
P.S I love you.
P.P.S I hate yoga.
