Too many times I've hoped

Work

Work was horrible today.

The punk was itching to take her break, get a smoke in and breathe for just a minute. Until then, thirty minutes from now, she was stuck behind the counter praying no one would come in. She just wasn't in the mood for anyone today.

She was ashamed to say she was even smart to Max on the phone earlier, and she seriously did regret it but it was hard for her to say sorry when she didn't even know why she was so moody. She's be off in an hour, then it was home with the nerd who was no doubt crafting something or making and awesome vegan dish and just being a fucking light and damn she should call and apologize on break. She'd do that. Totally. If break would ever get here.

Thirty minutes finally came and went, and after many boxes moved, Chloe stomped out the back of the store and immediately took out her phone. Her heart lurched when she saw a text message from none other than Max.

From:Bae

Hey...I don't know what's going through your head rn, but you can talk to me. Or if you just need a back rub or something. Ice cream? Just lemme know. I love you.

Always so sweet, even when she didn't have to be. How did she know how to deal with her so well? She debated on texting back instead of calling, but pressed dial anyway. It took a few rings, she counted four, until a gentle hello sounded in her ear.

"Hey, Max. I'm...i'm sorry. About earlier. My head is all gunked up right now but..thats not an excuse."

"Eh, it's ok. I could tell."

She memtally rolled her eyes, propping a boot up on the wall and leaning back, cold brick digging into her skin."Why are you so damn nice?"

"Why not? I love you, even when you're an emotional ass."

She could hear the smirk in her voice, and it made her smile a bit."That's me. Two years of therapy and I'm still a mess."

"You're a controlled mess, Chloe. You're doing really good."

The sound of dishes clacking, a thump to follow. So she was cooking."Please don't tell me you're cooking-"

"Tacos? Fuck yeah I am. You need to nom on some good stuff. Food helps with everything."

"Dear God, why do I have you? You're so good to me."

"Chloe, I will say this until you get it through your thick, blue head, I. Love. You."

A few years gathered in her eyes, but she brushed them away."T-thanks Max. I love you too."

"You better. Ok, go ahead and smoke and then get back to work. I'll see you in a bit ok? Don't throat punch anyone."

"Aye aye captain."

They hung up, and Chloe felt herself relax a bit. With Max's reassurance and the nicotine invading her senses, she felt a bit better. More calm. But her head still wasn't that clear. Just one more hour, one more hour....

Before she knew it she was on the road home, then turning into the apartment complex, parking in front of their little home. Her car turned off with a monster of a roar, shook then went quiet like always. She sat there, taking a deep breath, still feeling on the verge of tears for no reason. She didn't want to walk in and just break down. Used to she would never do that. But therapy had taught her to be more in touch with her emotions, wich was good, but sometimes she still felt vulnerable when she cried in front of Max. She'd been through so much, and sometimes Chloe just felt like she was adding to her burdens. Tonight, maybe she missed her dad. Next week she might hate herself for being a bitch to her fiance. It was...she felt like she was slipping sometimes and it scared her.