He never fucking came.
And she waited. Oh, she waited.
But he never showed. And with each passing minute she felt worse and worse, sinking into a pit of pessimism, a feeling she didn't like.
Finally she left. Why? Because the restaurant closed on her. That's how long she waited.
They looked at her pitifully, and asked politely for her to leave so they could close. She didn't argue, and she slowly walked home.
Until she wasn't walking.
She was running.
She felt like screaming, she felt like shit. Her expectations hadn't been high, but she had at least wanted him to show.
The tears she couldn't hold back rolled down her cheeks silently, and the ones she could hold back boiled at the corners of her eyes.
By the time she reached the apartment, she was a mess. She was thinking, her thoughts racing, trying to find any excuse for why he didn't show.
She didn't wish to wake Bea, so she went to bed. Pent up emotions and pent up tears kept her awake, staring up at the ceiling.
Something must have come up.
Maybe I went to the wrong place.
Maybe he went to the wrong place.
Maybe he got in an accident.
Maybe he died.
Maybe he's a superhero and there was a super-villain in town.
Maybe he just . . . Got sick.
Grandmother died. Someone died.
Something came up. He just wasn't able to tell me.
Or at least stop by.
Or at least warn me.
Or at least reschedule.
Or at least fucking tell me.
Finally she cried, silently, because why not? Crying helped. It really did.
He showed me up.
YOU ARE READING
Sip by Sip
Romance(Lowercase intended on cover) "The simple things in life are never meaningful, and the meaningful things in life are never simple. So maybe I don't want meaningful. Maybe I just want someone who cares enough to listen." Gemma Summers and Noah Han...
