Played By Riggs

22

I needed a glass of wine, or a bottle, or maybe even two.

No. What I needed, was exercise. The past few weeks had been so busy, jam packed with work, events, interviews and James, that I had seriously slacked in the exercise department. A long, intense run was perhaps what I was due, to clear my head and make reason of yesterday's incident.

So, on Sunday, I ran 5 miles. And Monday morning, I woke extra early to get in another 3 miles. Ended up calling Keith for a ride to work thirty minutes early, too. He was surprised, but didn't say anything. I deeply appreciated that. Because on Saturday when I arrived with James, and left without him, the explanation was pretty much clear.

It seemed the explanation was pretty clear for Tina, too, because when she walked into the office with my coffee, she didn't mention my early start. It was a miracle if Tina didn't mention something she could. Miracles didn't happen often, so I was grateful, but at dinner time, I had to wave it off.

"You don't have to tip toe around me, Tina."

"I'm not tip toeing," she said gently. "I'm wearing heels. You can't in heels."

I rolled my eyes. "Metaphor. You're acting weird, I don't like it. So stop it."

She wiped her mouth with the napkin and attempted to throw it in the bin. She missed and sighed loudly. "I'm not sure what to say, if I'm honest. I don't want to say the wrong thing, so I won't say anything at all."

I took the late bite of my sandwich and nodded slowly.

"Unless you want to talk about it..." she paused, then laughed, "never mind. I just heard how it sounded. You, talking about your problems. It's so..."

"Alright." I sat up in my chair and cleared my throat. "I'll talk about it."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Wow, really? I was throwing you a bone, but okay, sure. So, how big is he?"

Despite the sullen mood I was in, I managed a snort. "You threw the bone a bit too far, there."

"Always worth a short," she grinned toothily. "Okay, so what happened yesterday? I know I left you to go check out the stalls, but I saw you both stood together and then suddenly you were on your own looking like you had unbuckled his belt to find two inches, hard."

I managed a loud laugh at that one. "Shit, Tina, trust it to be you that cheers me up."

The grin remained on her face as I tried to come up with a way to explain it. How did I explain yesterday?

"Did you get yesterday's paper?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said, frowning. "You were on it. Something about that fostering meeting you went to... they think you said some shitty things and... oh." She cleared her throat and tried not to wince. "Oh right. Shit."

I did love how quickly she could piece things together. On this occasion, especially, given that my job of explaining had now lessened to a minor vitality. "Yeah. Well, he saw it. Read it. He said that they sounded like things I would say..." I blew out a long breath. "Tina, I've never felt worse."

Sympathy blossomed like rose buds in her eyes, and I tried really hard not to cocoon myself into a ball and roll out of the office. I hated sympathy. I didn't need it, it didn't help. It made me feel even smaller and after yesterday, I was already tiny.

"Have you spoken to him today?" she asked.

"No. He said he would, but he hasn't called. I don't want to call him in case he's still..." I paused, thinking, "I want to give him space."