Stilettos in the City

Chapter One

(A/N: The first few parts of this story are kinda bad, but they get better as they go on. I'll come back through and edit this once I'm finished with the book.)

"Is that the last box, babe?" I asked, putting my hands on my hips.

"Yeah. This is it. Then, we have to unpack." He said, not making eye contact with me.

He stepped into the house and sat the box on the floor. I walked over to one of the boxes and started unpacking.

"I'm excited for our new start." I said happily.

"Yeah. Me too." He agreed unenthusiastically, pulling out a lamp and sitting it on the end table next to the couch.

"Aww, I remember this! Don't you?" I recalled as I looked at the picture of Toby and I at the beach, I showed him the picture.

"I remember. That was a fun day." He said, finally smiling.

This was the first time I had gotten him to smile all week. He had been really distant and wouldn't even look at me. It had been worrying me. I strolled into the bedroom, still carrying the picture, and sat the picture on the dresser. I walked back into the living room and continued to unpack.

Once we had finished packing, I grabbed my sleepwear and went into the bathroom. I sat the clothes on the toilet seat and turned on the shower, then set the temperature. I began to undress, but I couldn't help but hear Toby talking to someone on the phone.

'Who could he be talking to at this time of night?' I thought.

I ignored it. Maybe it was just one of his friends, or maybe even his dad. I got into the shower and cleaned up. The cool water running over my face was refreshing. We had such an exhausting day. I got out of the shower and dressed into my sleepwear. Then I went to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up and picked out an outfit for the day, then got dressed. I walked into the kitchen, passing by Toby on my way there. I was making eggs and toast. I wasn't a coffee lover, so Toby fixed his own coffee while I poured myself a glass of milk.

"Would you like more toast, babe?" I asked Toby.

"No, thanks. I'm good with however many you fix." He said as he grabbed the plates and sat them on the table.

When I finished making the food, I served it to us. I sat down at the table across from Toby and ate. He didn't look too happy.

"Is everything okay​?" I asked concern evident in my voice.

"Oh, yeah. Everything's fine.." He said while looking down.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"We can talk once we finish eating." He said making direct eye contact with me. The look in his eyes was ... different.

Once we finished eating, I picked up the plates and put them in the sink then washed them.

'The way he said that worries me. What does he want to talk about?' I asked myself.

I ambled into the living room and sat on the couch facing Toby.

He looked down. "So ... um ... What I wanted to talk about was ... uh ..."

He sounded nervous, so I put my hands into his hands and held them. I loved holding his warm hands. I thought it might help him say what he wanted to say, and it did ... but it was the last words I was expecting to hear.