Golden Hour

Chapter 13

Twenty hours. 

For twenty hours after sending the email, I couldn't sleep. I couldn't relax. I couldn't stop berating myself for being so forward with Neil.

I'd received nothing from him. Not even the tiniest peep.

Though I didn't pretend to myself I was the center of his universe--especially with a pending divorce, a busy job, an actual life, and a kid in college--I'd hoped to hear something. Anything. 

Even "Curse you, tiny toilet, and the turd of a message you sent me."

A rude rejection would suit me better than waiting on tenterhooks.

My heart thudded against my ribs as I paced in the living room. Once again, I read my email, overanalyzing every word I'd written. Wondering where I'd gone wrong.

Should I backtrack in advance?

No, that's crazy. Just be patient and wait.

"I know exactly what you need." Emily plopped down on our much-loved, fraying sofa. "A girl's day out. You and me. We'll go to the movies like we used to do."

"That's a great idea," I said in a wary tone, "but my finances are a bit tight right now."

"I know." She wrapped her arm around my shoulders after I'd sat down beside her. "Which is why it'll be my treat."

"Oh, no! I couldn't possibly--"

"Look, I know you're paranoid about being like he-who-must-not-be-named."

"Voldemort?"

Emily grinned. "You could never be like The Leech, all right? Now let me be a friend and distract you from the whole Neil situation."

"Are you sure?"

"We both need to get out of this house for a reason other than work," she insisted. "How about that new DC flick? Birds of Prey?"

"The Fantabulous Emancipation of A Sociopathic Donut Smart Enough to Know Better?" I scrunched my nose. "Hard pass, thanks."

"You always say that about superhero movies," she groaned. "Then you watch it and tell me in this super-shocked voice how awesome it was."

"Marvel, maybe. But DC hasn't made anything decent since Nolan's trilogy."

Emily snorted. "You think all modern superhero movies are like those bad nineties flicks."

"Teenage Mutant Ninja Numbnuts," I sang, "Dummies in a half-shell."

"Turtle power!"

We chortled before Emily conceded defeat. "All right, all right, no Birds of Prey. But how about The Invisible Man?"

I pursed my lips. "Isn't that horror?"

"Yeah, but it's your kind of horror," she said, "like...more psychological thriller-y."

"Thriller-y?"

"I ain't on the clock. Stop crapping on my mastery of English." She paused in thought. "Or lack thereof."

"My bad."

"Look, it's got all the suspense of a thriller and all the emancipation of Harley Quinn without all the bullshit superhero crap."

"Sold."

"Woo-hoo!" Emily dug her phone out of her pocket. "I'll book tickets."

"Wait a sec!"

She furrowed her brow. "What's up?"

"Is it really dumb to be going to the cinema with everything going on?"