𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬, shawn mendes

two

cassandra mendes
03/05/18
11:13am
los angeles, usa

"Remind me why we thought that drinking all night was a good idea?" I complain, rolling over on the sofa and lying on my stomach. Emilia mumbles a response from the floor, knocking over an empty glass of wine as she gestures. "Because I do not think it was."

I reach my hand out for my phone, groaning from fatigue. We got hardly any sleep, staying up until the early hours of the morning talking about our lives. It turned out that after I signed the papers, we could talk about other things. Things that didn't make my mood drop, and my heart ache. We talked about things that made me excited about the future. And for the first time in almost two years, I felt happy.

That was all until I saw the time. 11:14am.

I was supposed to pick up the children from Shawn's at ten.

"Shit!" I exclaim, sitting up straight and scrolling through the several texts Shawn has sent me.

IMESSAGE WITH
shawn

shawn
where are you? we arranged for you to pick avery and ezra up at ten, didn't we?

pick up your phone, cassie. the kids are getting worried.

i'm supposed to be at the studio. but now i'm late. thanks a lot.

———

I roll my eyes at his messages, patronising and sarcastic as ever. The sarcasm was there when we were together, but never the patronising attitude. That came afterwards, when he got in his own head and began viewing himself on a pedestal; the superior parent.

I change out of my sweats as quickly as possible, opting for a white summer dress and simple sandals. I leave my face bare and my hair messy in a bun on top of my head, loose strands flying everywhere. Leaving Emilia the key to the house, I briefly explain why I'm in such a rush. I hardly get any sense of of her, seen as though she's in the same hungover daze I was, before I realised what a mistake I'd made.

I walk out of the door as fast as possible, but not before picking up the papers and slipping them into my handbag, ignoring the pang of emotion I feel as I do so.

I roll my eyes again as I pull up outside what I'd mentally nicknamed 'Shawn's bachelor pad', all glass windows and plastic walls. Nothing like the beautiful, classic home he and I bought the day I turned 19, the one he'd graciously allowed me to live in during our separation as if we hadn't split the cost equally. With his music and my acting, we'd afforded to live a far more than comfortable lifestyle in the years we were together.