Resentment - (18+)

C38

MIA

"So, let me get this straight," Eric says, putting his fork down over lunch the next day. "You and Justin fucked in my kitchen?"

"After everything I just told you, that's what you choose to harp on first?"

"Mia, that's my goddamn kitchen. I eat in there!"

"Could you please act like my older brother right now? My older should-be-concerned-with-my-emotional-well-being type of brother?"

"I am acting like your brother. When you drop a bombshell like that, how do you expect me to react? Where exactly in my kitchen did the two of you have sex?"

"Eric!"

"Don't even worry about it. I'm going to get it cleaned from top to bottom within the next twenty four hours." He shakes his head. "How did I not know about you and Justin in high school after all this time?"

"I mean, how would you have known? You weren't there. It happened long after you ran away."

"But we kept in touch."

"Yeah, but we didn't talk about each other's love lives. Besides, would you really have wanted to hear about a teenage romance?"

"Mia, every older brother looks forward to beating the ass of the guy that hurts his little sister."

"Well, do you mind beating him up for me now? How can we make that happen?"

"We can't." He rolls his eyes. "It's too late. He's my best friend now-although I'm starting to wonder why he never told me about you before."

"Probably because it didn't matter."

"Or because I would have beat his ass and never let him move in with me." He laughs, but then he gets serious. "Then again, Justin never talks about his family. And actually, when I think back, the two of us never went in depth about any family members. I know he hates his dad. You know I hate our mom, so that doesn't really leave much conversation about anything further. He really might not have had any idea about you, that we were related."

"Possibly..."

"I just wish I would have known the two of you had such a past. I would have never suggested that you come and live with me. I would've gotten you your own apartment much sooner. You know?"

"I don't regret coming here at all," I say, completely honest. "Living here with you these last few months has been one of the best decisions I've ever made."

He gives me a blank stare.

"I'm being serious!" I toss a napkin at him. "Are you mad about any of what I've just told you?"

"Why would I be?"

"Your best friend and your little sister? That we kept it from you?"

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not thrilled with any of the revelations I've heard today, but I can get why you hid it."

So, is there any other furniture that the two of you fucked on? Anything else I need to disinfect or just get rid of? I'm definitely getting new countertops, but do I need to search for a replacement couch? A flimsier coffee table maybe?"

"You're being serious?"

"Yes, I've being very fucking serious."

***

Later that day, I stare at my sketch pad, wondering how I've managed to sit at my favorite café for almost two hours without completing any work. I only have another few weeks to complete a new requested piece for the gallery, but all I can think about are break-ups.

"You know what, today is going to be a good day." I tell myself. I take a sip from my latte and turn to a new page in my sketch pad.

Skimming through some of the images in my phone's photo gallery, I select the cathedral building as my next source of inspiration and start drawing. The piece I'm supposed to submit is supposed to be something bright, bold and rich with color. It's supposed to incorporate the scenery in Portland's neighborhoods, the one aspect of architecture for one of their buildings. Once I finally get a good momentum going, I get lost in my work, not stopping for hours.

When I do eventually pause to take a break, my fingers are smudged in black charcoal and I've completely filled the pages of my current sketchpad.

I walk over to the register and order another latte. When I return to my table, I look out the window and see the last two people I need to see right now, Justin and the same woman he was with that night at the bar.

I sit and watch as they slowly approach the line of white food trucks at the corner.

I can literally feel my heart starting to ache all over again. When I imagined how Justin was feeling since our breakup, I never pictured him smiling, laughing, or looking completely happy.

I've barely had a moment when I'm not sad or not thinking about him. But I guess I really shouldn't be surprised, I've always been the one left feeling like a fool in the end.

After Justin and the woman get their food, they turn around and walk across the street, heading straight toward the café. He suddenly glances in my direction, and his eyes lock on mine.

It takes every ounce of will power in my body to break our gaze and look away, to pick up my pen and pretend to be engrossed in my sketches.

After about ten minutes, I reluctantly glance up, relieved to find him gone.

(A/N): since this one was short too, I'm double updating :)