Style // 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙇𝙚𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙘

18.

Tuesday

"Wake up!"

Stella's hollering scares the life out of me. I leap out of the bed like I'm possessed, pretending I wasn't just dreaming about being on the paddock with Charles. I grab the duvet by my side, creasing it in my fists, ready to cover Charles before it was too late. But, the space next to me is empty. Empty, messy, white sheets. 

He left.

"You realise we've got half an hour to leave, right?" Stella continues to rant on, oblivious to my confusion. "Come on!"

Stella leaves my room, shutting the door behind her. I look around the room, my head still feeling fuzzy from the late- and busy- night. Besides his plain white t-shirt covering my upper body, there's not a single trace of him in sight. Nothing. I reach for my phone, switching off the do not disturb mode and waiting for a text message or missed call to pop up. Still, nothing. Nothing at all.

I shove all my thoughts to the side, forcing myself to get up and get ready for another day of work. Another day of lying straight to Stella's face, and still feeling guilty. I try to ignore the thoughts, but they're still in the back of my head. A whisper. A crushing wave swishes around, ready to become a tsunami. Have I fell for it? His games? I couldn't have? I haven't been stupid, I held back until it felt right? 

"Emma, your jumper is out here." Stella calls, standing in my doorway again. "Do you want it?"

I stare at it with a blank expression, remembering how it ended up in the kitchen unlike the rest of my clothes. "Where did you find it?"

"It was on the coat hooks?" She explains, furrowing her brows. "Are you alright, did you drink last night?"

It was on the coat hooks. That's definitely not where I left- Charles left it. I gradually take it from her grasp, the fabric feeling foreign at my fingertips. Peering over her shoulder, everything is clean and tidy. All the plates have been washed up, even the empty bottles of Stella's wine have been taken out. Why has he done this, and how did he do it without waking me?

"No, just-" I pause, quickly coming up with an excuse. "Sorry, I haven't slept very well."

"Clearly, you barely look awake." Stella mumbles, wandering into our kitchen. "Get ready, I'll wait for you at the door."

"Alright." I sigh, disappearing off to the bathroom. "How was your night with Mark?"

"It was amazing, as always." She grins, faffing about with her bag outside. "I had a salmon dish for my main, it was literally the best thing ever."

"Nice." I quickly comment before starting to brush my teeth.

"We accidentally forgot protection though." She says, and I swear I almost choked on the toothpaste. "Waking up to a pregnancy test was not fun."

I pause my brush, leaning down to spit my toothpaste out as gracefully as possible. "Well..?"

"Oh, no, I'm not pregnant."

Thank fuck. 

"I had to go to the pharmacy to get the morning after pill, the bloke in there did not make me feel comfortable at all." Stella groans, and I can sense the eye roll. "He was looking at me like some kind of slag- which I am, but only for one person!"

I accidentally switch off, Stella's story- that I asked for- turns into background noise. The little devil on my shoulder has more importance at the forefront of my mind right now. Charles must've had a reason to leave, especially without waking me. But, if he had time to tidy up, why didn't he have time to wake me? If there was a sudden emergency, and he had to get up and rush out like he did, he wouldn't clean the kitchen before leaving? No one would! My throat feels like it's closing, guilt and doubt starting to settle on the centre of my chest. An invisible weight has been placed on top of me, crushing my ribs and sinking through my lungs. It's suffocating.

I knew it was a bad idea. I said it to myself, I even said it to him. I never should have invited him for tea. If I knew I was going to wake up alone this morning, I would've ate on my own and saved Stella's dish for my lunch. Instead, I called around the one person I know has trouble written all over them, and now I'm suffering the consequences of my own actions. What an idiot I am.

I spit my toothpaste out in anger, shoving my toothbrush back in the cupboard. "Alright, let's go."

Stella cuts off her story, staring at me in disbelief. "You haven't ate?"

"I've got paperwork to do." I lie, searching for my coat and shoes. "You don't have to come with me."

"Well, I may as well." Stella mumbles, shifting on her feet.

I can't speak. If I spark up one more conversation about last night, I'm bound to let the cat out of the bag. A flurry of guilt, anger, embarrassment and whatever I've got going on inside me will come toppling out like opening a dam, freeing a man-made waterfall. I didn't even get a text! Not a single apology, or good morning message. Nothing. Like nothing ever happened. I'm not having that! I'm not letting him leave me like some one-night stand. Especially after saying I'm more than that to him!

I scramble a hand into my pocket, unlocking my phone the second it's in front my face. I keep my head down as we walk, relying on Stella to guide me.

Me
Was it too hard to wake me up before you left this morning?
Or was it so much of a rush that you couldn't wake me up but you could cover up behind you?

I watch as the blue line slides across my screen, but comes to a halt about a quarter from the end. It isn't sending. Why is it not sending? I've got signal, everything on my end is working? Why isn't he receiving it? Then, it disappears, the green line taking its place as the iMessage fails to send.

"Fucker." I mutter, shoving my phone back in my pocket.

"Woah!" Stella gasps, putting a hand on her chest. "I haven't seen you get angry something on your phone in months!"

"So?"

"It must be someone really irritating to get under your skin." Stella explains, her eyes beaming. "Tell me already!"

"It's nothing, really." I shrug her off. "Just a complaint from work."

Stella continues to stare at me, the smile wiping off her face. I gasp as she gives me the bitchiest eye roll ever, facing forward as we approach our surgery.

"You're not telling me something, I know it." She almost announces. "You never get complaints."

"What?" I scoff, reaching for my phone again. "Stella, it's a complaint, it's confidential-"

"Are you seeing someone, and that's why you're pushing away Elliot?" She asks, still not looking at me. "Or are you seeing Elliot and you don't want me to say 'I told you so'?"

I can't help but huff. Not at Stella, at myself. Lying is all fun and games until you do it too many times. Like the boy who cried wolf. I'll lie and lie and lie about not seeing Charles, and when I actually need Stella's help, she'll totally ignore me. 

"You're reading into it." I sigh, brushing some hair off my face. "You're in a relationship now, you don't have to fuss over my status."

"No, I do." She corrects me with a stern tone. "Because you do stupid shit and then act surprised when it hurts you."