1.2 The Chronicles of Us - Rewound & Retold

Chapter forty-two

Things have gone back to normal. Whatever the fuck that means. Well, normal is probably not the right word. Our conversations have been ... light. No heavy talk. There's a carefulness between us, like we're both afraid to tip the scales the wrong way. Or maybe that's just me. I try to do everything that's expected of me, but I'm not sure my head is always present.

I sigh, for the bazilyionth time this week, and then look to my right in hopes of finding a smile on Ellie's face. Huh. Where did she go? I swear, a minute ago she was sitting next to me on the couch.

The sound of her humming comes from the bathroom, so I move over there and lean against the doorframe. She seems in a good mood, but what's with the makeup and party-ponytail? "Why are you all dressed up?"

Her eyes meet mine in the bathroom mirror. "Charlotte's birthday, remember?"

I rub the heel of my hand on my forehead. "Fuck, I forgot about that."

"Well, get dressed so we can go." She fidgets with her hair and then walks passed me into the bedroom.

I stay in her trail. "I can't go out tonight. I have an early meeting tomorrow with a graphic designer. We're getting our logo redone."

Instead of changing back into something more comfortable, she keeps busy getting ready to leave. "We don't have to stay long. We'll be home before midnight."

I huff loudly. "Don't lie. When you're drunk there's no way you wanna leave early."

Her brows snap together. "Why are you getting agitated? We promised to be there."

"Yeah, so? I don't own them shit."

She inhales deeply through her nose, like she's in need of air, and then steps into the hall.  "I'm going. I could use a night out."

Away from me? "What's that supposed to mean?"

Her eyes stay on her hands while she ties her shoelaces. "Maybe you're not the only one who needs some space. Does it even matter if I'm here? You hardly talk to me anyway."

I touch her arm to make her look at me. "That's bullshit. I've sat next to you every evening."

I did. Didn't I? Yeah, yesterday we watched that movie. The one with the ... uhm—fuck. I haven't been paying attention. I was busy staring at floor. She must have sensed my mental absence.

Her fingers stroke my arm, a pitiful gesture. "If you're not feeling well, I can—"

"Never mind." I shrug her off. "You're right, I could use an evening to myself. You should go."

She eyes me suspiciously. "Are you sure?"

No.

It doesn't matter. She wants to have fun and I'm not capable of giving it, not right now, but fuck does it sting that she'd rather spend her time elsewhere. "Yeah, it's fine. We've been on each other's skin for too long. I'll see you when I see you."

My gruff tone confuses her, but she pecks my cheeks and opens the front door. "I'll be home before you wake."

That fearful part of my brain orders me to go with her. Fatigue, however, makes me stay. I'm so tired of juggling all these time-consuming pieces of my life. I need sleep. Ten straight hours of it.

Before the door closes, I say, "No drugs, okay?"

She smiles. "I promise."

With a sigh, I move into the bedroom and throw myself on the mattress. I'm overreacting. She's right, it's just a party. Normal couples don't show up everywhere together. It's no big deal nor is it realistic to expect her to be by my side all the time. That will only suffocate her and drive her away. I need to give her the space to move in her own way. Besides, she promised to take no drugs. She'll probably get a little drunk and then crawl into bed with me once she comes home.