now that we don't talk [tom blyth]

28.

The apartment was quiet, only the muffled noise of the wind outside filling the space. I sat at the kitchen bench on the stool, sipping at the glass of red in front of me, my eyes fixated on the clock on the wall. I watched it tick around, counting each minute and waiting for the time that I knew his flight would be landing.

I don't know if my message was opened, or even acknowledged, because the moment I hit send I had blocked him on every media source he may have tried to contact me on. I even blocked his email - not taking any risks. This could go two ways. He either saw my message, knew what I was referring to or read between the lines to know what I was implying. He would have found someone else to pick him up from the airport and we live our lives apart. The other option was that he hasn't seen it, hasn't read it, and still thinks he is stepping off the plane to my open arms, only to be met with a blank space and a head of confusion.

The hands found 10:50 pm and a bubble of anxiety filled my stomach. Mia had assured me that the best thing to do was go no-contact, at least until he reached out or tried to mend things. She told me to take care of myself, drink some tea, watch some movies, and search for new jobs, ignoring everything that happened with Tom.

Well, I had drank wine instead of tea, refreshed his name in my search tab on Google, applied for one job, and spent the last two days thinking about how everything had gone wrong in just a few short moments. It felt like I blinked and I lost everything.

It was like time was moving slower than it should be. I watched each hand on the clock move around slowly, and steadily, not missing a second or a minute. There was no doubt I was going cross-eyed from staring ahead for so long.

When it hit midnight and my eyes started to fall heavy, I dragged myself up the stairs, leaving my glass on the bench, and crawled into bed, not without sending Mia a text.

Kira: He would have come through arrivals by now. I'm scared for what comes next.

Mia: I love you so much, everything will be okay. I promise. Call me if you need anything.

I locked my phone and placed it on the bedside table, curling into my duvet and praying that I would never have to see him again.

-

It was 8 am when the pounding at my door woke me up. I couldn't help the groan that escaped my lips as my bra-and-underwear-covered body crawled out of bed, finding the robe on the floor and trudging down towards the front door. I had a feeling I knew who it was, and when his voice boomed through the wooden door, that feeling was confirmed.

"Kira, please open the door!"

I quickly turned back around, running up the stairs but staying light on my feet so he didn't know I was there. For all he knew, I was at work and I wasn't going to give him the liberty of knowing I wasn't. Instead, I darted straight for the bathroom and shut the door, muffling the sound of his voice and the thumping of his hand on the door.

5 minutes passed when he finally stopped and I assumed he had decided to leave, accepting his fate that I wasn't home, or at least wasn't prepared to talk. I sighed, turning on the hot water and standing under it, letting it scold my skin just slightly, enough that I would feel something.

I definitely started to feel something. I started to feel everything. My body shook as strained sobs escaped my lips. I fell to the floor of the shower, wrapping my arms around my knees, letting the hot water soak my body and wash away the tears that were streaming down my face. My heart ached as I let every desperate cry out, hoping that each one would be the last.

I had lost everything. I had lost the job that I worked so hard to get. The one that I had put my everything into, that I had loved with every part of me, the one that I had hoped would be my forever job and could see myself making my way up to some kind of superior position. I loved the travel I got to do, the people I got to meet, and the amazing actors and directors I got to speak to. This job reignited my love for film and TV. It had been years that my spark had been out and when I started with Variety and was immediately placed in their Film & TV Journalism team, I knew that I was going to fall back in love. It was my passion, my saving grace, it was everything to me.

I had also lost Tom. Again. For a second time. I had hoped and prayed every night that this time around would be forever, that we had grown and matured and fallen back in love with ourselves so we could love each other more. I had told myself that, and I couldn't have been more wrong. He's just a man is what Mia told me as she poured me a second glass of wine that night.

I don't know who this girl is, or if anything even happened with her and Tom, but what I did know is that he had no issue wrapping his soft hands around her waist on New Year's Eve, whilst I was at home praying that time would move a bit quicker and I wouldn't have to wait so long for him to get home.

I had given him every part of me, maybe too quickly and maybe without enough thought, hoping that it would all work out. I risked my job, my life, my mental and physical health, and it had all backfired.

I felt stupid, ignorant, idiotic, pathetic. I felt like all of the signs were there and I ignored them completely. I was wrapped up in the excitement, the butterflies, the sex and the dinner dates. I didn't think there was anything that could go wrong when the red flags were all there, staring me right in the face.

Of course, my work was going to find out I was dating Tom. Of course, the next time he went on holiday he would find someone else. Of course, I was going to end up alone.

Without thinking about what I was doing, I stood my soaking body off the wet shower floor and stepped out onto the towel, scrolling to find the name and, with shakey hands hit the call button. It rang several times, and my hope started to fade until there was a click of them answering.

"Hello?"

A stray tear slipped down my face as I choked out the words, "Mom?"