a work in progress

Chapter 14 - A Supporting Character

"MC?"

"Uh, huh," I answered softly.

"MC?"

"Yeah?"

"Noe," Luca practically yelled from his kitchen into the living room where I was snuggled up with a blanket and a new book.

"Yes?" I answered, confused at his abrasiveness.

"Why haven't you answered me?"

"I have. Every time you've called me, I've answered."

"Maybe you just thought you answered. You're always so caught up reading that you probably only imagined responding to me."

"I resent that. Yes, I read a lot, but that's not new. I've always read a lot, and I definitely know what's real and what's not," I began, slamming my book shut and looking directly at him.

"And I know that I responded to you when you said "MC" question mark, "MC" question mark, and then finally yelling my name." I paused and awaited a response. Hearing none, I added, "Your apology will be accepted," before rolling my eyes and returning to my book.

Luca and I had been in a funk for over three weeks. We engaged in more than the occasional lover's spat. These loud conversations generally erupted out of nowhere, and they always became obstacles that we side-stepped and never really seemed to deal with. We'd been exclusive for one year and six months before all of this started and it just seemed like we were in too deep to implode

"Luca," I called more calmly, laying my book down.

"What?" he answered with disdain, not moving from the doorway of the kitchen.

"Luca, can you please come and talk to me?"

"What for? I'm tired of doing this."

"What do you mean? What is this? Can you come and sit down?"

"I don't want to sit," he added standing his ground from the kitchen.

"Please sit with me here. Please," I pleaded. He obliged, and sat next to me on his sofa. "Thank you."

"MC, I'm so tired of this," he sighed running his fingers through his hair.

"What is this? You keep using that phrase and I don't understand what you mean. You're done with me? What is it? Are we breaking up?"

"No, no, no. We've fought every day for the past month. I don't want to anymore. I'm tired of always being angry and yeah...I'm tired of it."

"I don't think either of us likes to argue," I began.

"Oh really, if that's the case, why do you start them?"

"Are you being completely serious right now," I asked huffily. "I rarely, if ever start our arguments. We can use today for example. That was all....you know what? Actually, I'm not. I refuse. This is what you want, I think. Luca, what is the matter?"

"Nothing."

"It's obviously something. I feel like you're picking fights with me so I'll get angry enough to walk out. Which unfortunately, my track record says I will, but not today. What's wrong with you? Talk to me."

"The only thing that's wrong with me is I'm tired of fighting with you," he said, his eyes blank and glazed over as I searched them for hidden meaning.

"Okay then. Clearly I can't win here. I'm going to go," I started and made my way to the door.

"This is not a contest, it's a –" he instigated before I interrupted him.