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(5) | .Riley. | Now

Sydney didn't show up until six in the evening that day. She hadn't texted me either. Something had happened in the time between now and yesterday afternoon when she had dropped Bella with me but I had no idea what. 

She wore the same clothes. A black leather jacket on top of her white tube top to match her skin-tight leggings. Her face was powdered with make-up to make her rosy cheeks look somewhat pale. Her eyes were red and had shrunk slightly but it was nothing compared to her eye-bags which dragged down to her cheekbones. 

"Thank you, Riley. Again, sorry about the tardiness. I owe you, remember," she says as she neared closer to the door. 

She was in a hurry to leave but that was probably because if she didn't get her and Bella to leave now, the six-year-old would have found another Barbie movie to watch. It was all she seemed to have done in the past twenty-four hours aside from sleeping. 

"No worries." I shed a smile and then watch the two of them leave, closing the door behind them. 

Adam was on his way home from court. He was stuck in traffic but I treated the spare time as a luxury. When he gets in, it'll be back to normal. The usual fussing over the simplest of things. 

I had already sent an e-mail about the fridge earlier this morning and they responded asking me to sort it out myself. It was mine and Adam's property after we got rid of the old one. I suppose it was only fair that we take care of our property ourselves. 

It made it difficult to eat dinner though. The temperature in the fridge had decreased. Nothing would be as chilled as it's meant to be. 

I stand in front of the appliance, figuring out what to do. Adam wouldn't have had a chance to do anything about it. As soon as he gets in, he'll most likely head off to bed. 

A knock on the door distracts me from staring down the appliance as if the longer I look at it the more wisdom I would endure. That wasn't the case at all. 

Closing the fridge door shut, I breathe in a sharp intake. It was probably just Sydney and Arabella again. She might have left a toy of hers, like usual. 

Most of the time when she left one at ours, Adam was first to find it and he would throw it in with the rubbish carelessly. It's not fair how many gifts Sydney gives me while my partner is left throwing her daughter's toys in the waste. 

I uncross my arms, opening the door but I don't find Sydney stood there at all. 

He's quite the opposite. 

I don't say anything because I'm too-busy contemplating over this moment where he's stood on the other side of the door to my flat with a box of tools in his left hand. His movements slacken and so do mine. 

He's chewing the inside of his cheek. I can tell because of the way his jaw points inwards. 

I look away from him before I made eye-contact. Those eyes. Those darn eyes. 

"Problem with the fridge?" His voice is stern and thick yet so emotionless. I can't tell what he's thinking at the moment - whether he's thinking the same thing as me or not. 

Is this an excuse to see me or did Adam put him up to it? - Because he knew I would never sort out the fridge on my own. 

When I don't step aside, he barges past me himself and makes his way over to the appliance like he owned the place. 

I bite my lip and turn around to watch him. I keep the door open, too. I don't know why I feel the need to but I do. Maybe because if I was too-close, shit would go down and I'd find myself spiralling. It's hard not to spiral with him stood within a five-foot radius from me.