The Make-Up Artist: Part 2

Chapter Twenty Four: Feeling Good

"What?" Richard echos with a slight edge of panic to his voice.

"What??" You repeat, now more confused than ever.

"Fuck...", you hear him hiss under his breath. "You have no idea what I'm talking about do you?"

"No Richard, I don't. What do you mean THEY. BROKE. UP??"

"Godammit. Why do I keep doing this?" He exclaims with a heavy sigh.

"I don't know but would you please explain what the hell is going on? Is that why he was being so weird last night?" Your mind is replaying the events of the previous evening and this morning, trying to locate any clue you might've missed that would've indicated he was harboring such a huge secret.

"I don't know about last night but maybe? All I know is he told me he was going to see you, and knowing what I know, I figured you might need a friend to talk to. But apparently he hasn't told you yet."

"No, I guess he felt that little tidbit wasn't important enough to share", you sigh. Laying back down onto the bed, you cover your eyes with the crook of your elbow. Why in the world would Taron not feel the need to tell you this?

"I'm sure he has a good reason love", Richard says tenderly.

"Richard, I'm just so tired of all of this. I don't know how much more I can take", you say, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

"I know. Just don't give up quite yet. You've made it this far. Give him a chance to explain." You already know that of course you're going to give him chance. You always do.

"Ok, thanks. Thank you for telling me. I'm glad at least you think I deserve to know the truth."

"You're welcome", he says with an exhale. "I'm so sorry but I have to get going now. Text you later, ok?"

"Ok Rich. Bye."

"Goodbye." The line goes quiet and you toss the phone to the bed and cover your face with both hands, trying to block out the events of the last few hours. Your heart is so confused right now. On one hand, shouldn't you be thrilled that Ashley and Taron have apparently broken up? Especially after what happened between the two of you last night, even though you have no idea what the circumstances are surrounding the break up. On the other hand, you can't help but feel hurt that Taron didn't even bother to tell you. Is that why he was so upset? Is he happy about the break up? Sad? Were you just a distraction? Who broke up with who? And why? Maybe you're just overreacting. Maybe he has every intention of telling you and just wasn't ready yet. You decide to give him the benefit of the doubt and not condemn him just yet. He said he'd be back tonight so you'll just wait to confront him then. Feeling resigned to this decision, at least for now, you roll back over onto your side, pull the covers up over your face and fall numbly into a restless sleep.

Several hours later, you reluctantly drag yourself out of bed and check your phone eagerly just to see that you have no notifications, figures. You decide to continue on with your normal routine of coffee and breakfast, even though it's closer to lunchtime now. Afterwards, you find that you still need a distraction, so you proceed to clean your tiny apartment from top to bottom and do a few loads of laundry, including the sheets from your bed. When that's complete, it's well past lunchtime so you make a sandwich and pick up your book that you have stopped and started more than twenty times. Even though your mind keeps wandering, you force yourself to keep reading, needing something just to pass the time. After finding that it is indeed an interesting book and spending a good amount of time curled up on your couch with it, you feel it's probably time to stretch your legs and get out of this cramped space, so you decide to go for a run.

Even though it's hotter than hades out here in the late afternoon L.A. sun, the pavement against your feet and the sweat dripping from your pores feels glorious. It's like you're literally sweating out all the tension, anxiety and confusion as you pound into the ground with every step. Who needs therapy when you can just go for a good run? With every corner you round, you decide to go further instead of taking the turn that will bring you back home. It's cathartic in the most primal form and you revel in the feeling of the oxygen expelling out from your lungs, the pounding of your heart and the blood rushing through your veins. In the end, you run over and beyond your usual three miles and go a full five. The time flies and you don't even realize just how far you've gone until you look down at your run tracker to see the mileage. Luckily, you are right around the corner from your apartment so you finally slow your pace and begin the half mile walk home to cool down. You pass the coffee shop on your way and as an impulsive treat to reward yourself for your efforts, you pop in and order yourself an iced latte.