Happy Endings

40. ...?

"What do you know about it?"

"What's wrong you can tell me..."

"Why, I can't tell you. You don't- you can't- you can't explain now what's going on in your brain. You can't tell somebody how- wha-what's happening, what's going on in your- I can't."

"Why don't you just try?"

☼

Reality checked itself in on Monday afternoon. Time: around 1 pm, lunch hour. Location: Echo Culture headquarters. Witnesses: Kellin Quinn's coworkers who he liked to call the triplets. Motive: a simple, friendly question over the pizza they had ordered because no one had brought lunch.

"How was your weekend, Kello?"

How...

How was Kellin's...

Weekend...?

He knew he had an odd reaction. The slice of pizza in his hand froze mid-air, his eyes opened wide, eyebrows shot up, mouth hung open ready to bite on air. It was like his brain disconnected for a few seconds. Blanked. But he managed to get ahold of himself soon after, blinking, clearing his throat, forcing himself to laugh and lighten up his weirdness.

"Sorry," he left the slice back on the box, trying to ignore the looks his three coworkers were giving him. He shook his head, pushed his glasses up on his nose, and started to break a sweat mentally.

His weekend.

How was his weekend?

It was like someone pulled the plug and the lights went out. It was the rug yanked away from under him with nothing else there to keep him standing. It was a needle to his balloon.

Popped.

Kellin's mind flashed with memories of the last two days. Images of sex and kisses and rain and words and tenderness and the burn in his heart and laughter and banter and tears and—How was your weekend?

Oh, no... it was rising again. That dark cloud. That feeling in his chest Kellin thought was finally gone. Anxiety. Shame. Why...? Had it never gone away? Had he been fooling himself? Why did he feel so scared to say something, anything?

"I think he's having a stroke guys," Sierra's voice cut off the white noise from becoming louder.

Kellin blinked again.

"No I think he's back online," Ryan chucked and Kellin finally faked a smile.

"Sorry," he hated that he suddenly sounded out of breath, but he picked his pizza slice back up and took a bite. It didn't taste as good anymore.

"You okay?" Lynn asked carefully.

Kellin waved his hand and nodded, chewed quickly, swallowed.

"Just the usual," he finally answered their question, as if none of this had happened. "Stayed at home... chores, you know."

And just like that, the liar returned. So convincing. So easily. No one even noticed.

Sierra laughed lightly while Lynn frowned in confusion, but Ryan was the one who took the bait and continued the conversation like normal, derailing it into different topics and eventually forgetting all about Kellin's malfunction. He was silently grateful. But his knee never stopped bouncing under the table and he never stopped feeling like a piece of shit.

After lunch was over, Kellin headed back to his desk without noticing the dark cloud still growing above his head. For the first time, he didn't have to leave the office to go see his daughter because she was out of town. And he wouldn't have to for a full week.