What Twisted Webs We Weave

Some Secrets Weren't Meant To Be Told

(Pete's POV)

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Fucking shit.

It was 6:00.

Patrick told me to pick him up at 5:30. And he'd said it to me multiple times. To the point where it was annoying. Constantly reminding me of the time he wanted to leave the office. So of course I would oversleep and be late. Fate fucking hated me.

What the hell happened?

I know. It it was that damn headache. My body always chose to sleep longer than necessary when I was in pain. Usually that defense mechanism worked in my favor. Today it totally fucked me over.

I pressed on Patrick's contact for the third time since I entered the car. Completely ignoring all those pesky laws about not using your cellphone when driving. It's not like I didn't know how to multitask. Again, Patrick's phone sent me to voicemail. It wasn't like him to let his phone die.

My disregard for the speed limit was helpful in my quickened journey to his office. There was one car still in the parking lot. Which meant he was probably still in there. Waiting for me. Pissed off. Shit.

I didn't bother turning off the car as I got out. It wouldn't take more than a minute for me to go in, apologize and convince him to get in the car with me. As I approached the front entrance, I notice the lights were off. So he was probably in his office in the back. A hard attempt to turn the knob revealed that the door was locked. A small part of me expected it to be. Of course he wasn't going to sit in an empty office and wait for me for thirty minutes. The car probably belonged to some patient who was unable to drive it home from the condition the medicine put them in or something.

For some reason, Patrick getting home without me made me feel guiltier than him waiting out for me did. I couldn't for the life of me make sense of why. Maybe it's because it meant he gave up on the idea that I was coming. I wonder how long it took before he realized he should just take a cab or something.

My mind raced through different forms of apologies as I sped to get to his house. I should probably stop and get him flowers. No, Patrick wasn't really a flowers guy. The truth might just work. Lately he seemed desperate enough for my attention that he might not even be that upset. Annoyed probably, but not upset.

I parked beside Patrick's car in the driveway. Muttering reassurances to myself before finally getting out and walking up the pavement to the front door. I tried he knob and cursed under my breath when it didn't budge.

"Patrick." My knuckles rapped against door. I waited a few seconds. Listening for the sound of approaching footsteps. There were none. "Patrick!" I said louder. Letting my fist hit against the wood a little harder. "I'm sorry I didn't pick you up. I over slept, okay?" Again, no response. Shit.

What were the odds that he was in there ignoring me? Slim to none. If anything, Patrick would want to open the door just to scold me.

Now that begged the question, where the hell was my boyfriend? Not at work. Not home. Which only left one option. He was somewhere with Brendon. Jealously flared in my chest before I could stop it. No, I couldn't think that way. We talked about it. We're getting through the infidelities. Patrick wouldn't do that again. Maybe Patrick wasn't even with Brendon. We had other friends. He had other friends.

I took out my phone and dialed another number. It rung twice in my ear before I heard the click of an answer.

"What's up?"