Kismet

Chapter 25- Thief

Lila’s POV

It used to be that I would wish away my days, waiting for Friday to come. The weekdays would drag, and every day would just be another day closer to the weekend when I could finally have some time to myself to sleep in and catch up on my reading.

It’s a little different now. I kind of wish I could turn back time to relive the last week of my life instead. I could put it on repeat like my favorite song, memorize every line and smile the whole time.

This Friday is much more melancholy. I shouldn’t feel this way. I should be excited to see Bran again. It’s the longest we’ve been apart since we got married, and we barely got to talk all week. Instead, I’m just overly emotional, and I know JK feels the same.

We both hug a little longer, a little harder than we have in days past when we go out to our cars. Part of me wants to call in to work just to make this last day stretch a little longer, but my responsible side won’t let me. I guess I have to say goodbye sometime. It’s not like it’s a real goodbye. I’ll still see JK all the time, I’m sure. It just won’t be the same, and I think we both know it.

“I’ll miss you this weekend,” he says, not letting the hug end.

“I’ll miss you too, JK,” I tell him. I would normally joke or tease him but now’s not the time. I don’t have it in me when I’m already feeling so down.

We pull apart, and I see tears in his eyes. I manage to not cry myself, under fear of ruining my makeup right before work, but I know exactly how he feels. This week spoiled me, and I really don’t want to go back to the life I was so used to living.

“Drive safe, okay?” I tell him, getting on my tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. He nods at me and tries to smile, but it’s not his real smile, not the one I’m used to. He holds my hand for a second before pressing a kiss to it and opening my car door for me to get in, always the gentleman.

The rest of the day passes in a blur. I’m not really focused, but I don’t think anyone at work really notices, except for Em. She eyed me and told me to make sure I got some sleep this weekend because I looked pale. I’m sure she thought I was sick. Probably better that way. How does one explain to their coworker that they broke their own heart?

When I get home and park, I wonder briefly what I’ll say to Brandon about the new car. Honestly, he probably won’t even notice it for a while. I justify not telling him until he asks about it himself because he didn’t seem to care when I was calling him about my car problems, to begin with. I know it’s petty, but I just don’t want to have to explain anything to him.

If I tell him the truth, he’s sure to be livid that a random man that he’s never heard of before bought me a car in full, but I also don’t want to lie and say I got a loan behind his back, either. So instead, I’ll say nothing. Leave that drama for my future self.

I’m so used to seeing JK as soon as I walk to my apartment door that walking in by myself feels particularly lonely. It’s funny. It used to be that any time I had alone at the apartment would be my favorite. I could do whatever I wanted without worry. Now it just feels too empty, too quiet. A lot can change in a week, I guess.

I try and distract myself from my emotions by getting dinner together. I want to make Bran something nice, so I defrosted some ribeyes last night. I get them out of the fridge and season them up, leaving them on the counter to get some of the chill off of them. I take big russet potatoes and wash them, slipping them into the oven to bake. Steaks with baked potatoes and salad sound like the perfect homecoming dinner.

I fry some bacon up. I’ll use it in both my salad and the baked potatoes, but most importantly, I’ll use the bacon grease for cooking my steaks. That’s my little secret. While the bacon cooks, I whip up a chimichurri to go with the steaks, and then the rest is just waiting time. I’ll actually cook the steaks and make the salad closer to the time Brandon is due to get home.