Could It Be You? |✓

(31) Downtime

A hundred and thirty messages. Fifty-nine missed calls.

Emma stares coldly at the notifications on her phone. A throbbing ache and a heavy head continue to plague her, eating away at every part of her. These low sensations don't seem to go away.

The last message in her outbox was, "Did you sleep with her?"

The answer was affirmative.

She fell into a deep slumber the moment she reached home the night before because she was too tired to think, too tired to care. Thank goodness her office has a flexi-space policy so she opted to work from home today. She would do anything to avoid seeing him.

Not very professional, she knows.

But she needs the downtime.

She locks her phone and leaves it on the couch. Walking to the kitchenette, she pulls off her hair tie to let loose her curls, and they fall onto her shoulders with a soft bounce. She pinches a lock of hair and gives it a whiff, wondering how much it must be stinking since she didn't have the energy to take a shower yesterday. She pours a glass of water and gulps it down, and goes for another. A blaring ringtone pierces through the silence, causing her to spill a little water on her pristine white shirt.

Emma walks over to the landline and peers on the screen. Realising that it's Tess, she answers.

"Girl, you're worrying me. How're you feeling today?" Even though Emma is weary, a small smile succeeds in sneaking its way onto Emma's face at the sound of Tess' high-pitched voice.

"Not so bad? Thanks for calling. And thanks for making sure I'm okay yesterday," she says. A sharp ray of light claims its way into her living room and Emma squints her eyes in reflex. She raises a hand to block it from her vision. Some of the light filters through her fingers anyway and Emma is momentarily distracted by the cumulus clouds in the distant clear sky. She realises that it is such a pretty weather, such a beautiful day. Why is she moping around in her house?

"If you want me to cover for you, just tell me, okay?" Tess says.

"Nah, I shouldn't bail on my work just over a man. It isn't even my fault," Emma mutters as she brings a hand to her forehead.

She hears a gasp. "That's right, girl! Keep your head high. You deserve better!"

"Don't you have to work? Get off the phone, Tess," Emma says jokingly. She plops down onto the couch.

"What? C'mon, you love hearing my voice!" Tess protests. "But for real, I hope to see you back soon. I miss you. Baby Tess misses you too."

A chuckle escapes Emma's lips. "Aww. I'll be back soon!"

"You'd better."

"I know."

When Emma returns the phone back to the handset, the loneliness returns. It seems that Tess' presence was an oasis in the desert, and now, she's back to free falling down an abyss of self-loathe, hurt, and anger.

Why did he cheat? Is she not enough? Was he playing with her all the while?

She curls into a sphere on the couch and clutches her forehead. After a moment of thought, she flips open her laptop and types the words, "Why did he cheat?" into Google. She selects the very first link that supposedly gives her the top five reasons.

But she knows very well that she will not get them. She will not understand the why, because she is not a cheater, will never be one, and she will never empathise with Matt.

Her vision blurs, as she presses the 'x' on her browser.

* * *

"What's this?" Emma asks with a raised brow. Joshua has given her some off-the-counter medication of sort from the pharmacy.