All Tonight

New York City, June 19, 2019

It's been a month since I found out Chris cheated. I said I forgave him but I still can't get over it. There'll be times when I'm watching him cook and I'd be so happy knowing that that man is all mine,... and then I'd remind myself that he isn't.

I can't believe he'd do such a thing to me. That he'd really go and fuck someone else. I don't know if it would've been easier if he'd just broken up with me because then I couldn't be mad at him. It would've been easier if he'd loved her too, I can't be mad at him for loving someone else but he didn't love her.

It sucks knowing that I love someone who'd do this to me, drunken mistake or not.

Most nights I go to sleep looking at him wondering what went through his mind when he did it. Was he thinking of me? Did he care enough to? Was I even a single thought in his mind? I hope that I wasn't because to know that he thought of me and did it anyway is a pain that I couldn't bare to feel.

I sit in my car parked outside our building with the AC blasting. It's quiet in the car, nothing but me and my wandering thoughts. It's late, almost 8 but the sun is still out. It's safe to say that summer in New York is my favorite. It's the perfect balance of hot and it rains still. In LA it barely rained which I hated because I love the rain. Although, driving through some parts of New York in the rain or the heat, it'll start to smell like garbage but I'm used to it now.

I've been off work for two hours now and I've just been sitting in my car ever since I got home. I don't want to go in yet. I don't want to have to face Chris yet. It's the hardest part of my day to go home and see his face and remember what he did.

I want to not think about it, ever, but I just can't stop my mind from wondering. It plays in my mind on a loop until I feel like I'm suffocating.

I finally decide to get out of the car and go inside. The elevator ride is faster than I'd hoped it would be, so, I take my time going down the hallway. I purposely stop to analyze every painting hung up on the walls leading down to my apartment. In the months that I've lived in this building I've never noticed the paintings until now. Until I needed something to focus on.

I make it to our unit in due time and go inside. Chris is sitting on the couch watching TV. On the table in front of him are a few scattered beer cans as well as one in his hand. I don't say anything about the mess.

He stands when I enter. "Hey, where have you been, I've been calling you?" He says walking to me. I avoid eye contact with him and turn the corner to go to the bedroom.

"I've been outside in the car." I say but it comes out barely a whisper.

He follows me down the hallway. "You've been sitting in the car all that time?" He says his tone accusing. What a fucking joke, for him to be accusing me of anything.

"Yes." Is all I say. I get to the room and close the door before he can enter. Fuck. I wish these doors had locks on them so I can lock him out. I just want some peace to be alone and do my work in the comfort of my own home. Work always makes me feel better.

"Don't fucking close the door on me, Ava." Chris says as he enters to room.

I drop my things on the floor and kick my shoes off in the corner. I try to ignore him but he's there when I turn around, towering over me. His face is hard, intimidating if I were afraid of him but I'm not. I just can't stand to look at him.

"I have to work Chris." I tell him I nudge him over to walk around him and grab my computer from my bag on the ground.

"I don't care, Ava." He takes my computer from my hands. "Where the fuck have you been and don't say in your fucking car 'cause you could have answered my calls." He says.