The Father

Chapter 14

No match.

He's wasn't an offender of any kind, he's never been arrested or booked for a crime, so his prints were practically useless.

It's been extremely hard for me to swallow. But I think it's somehow been even harder to swallow that I haven't heard from Katherine or seen her for two weeks. And the fact that Joe knows about my affair hasn't helped. I'm a stressed out, overly distraught mess.

As my feet pound against the pavement I try to control my breathing. My AirPods are at their max volume, playing that song we listened to and danced to in her apartment on repeat. I've had no time to exercise and plenty of time to smoke cigarettes, so I'm struggling to finish my run. I'm drenched in sweat, I've long since taken my shirt off and hold it tightly in my hand, and wipe it along my hair line. Maybe Lena is right. I should quit smoking. I don't know, I'm not sure I could right now. When I'm actually home I hole myself up in my office, sleeping on the couch in there instead of in my bed when I'm actually able to get to sleep, and have hoped to wake to the chime of a message from her. It's been silent. I've sent her countless texts, though, and considered going over there, but haven't. I can't stomach the thought of her pushing me away or telling me not to touch her again. It would be too much for me to handle. But I'd rather die than have to go through any more of this, even if I brought it on myself.

Did I, though? Did I really? I told her how I felt and how badly I wanted to be with her and even though I shouted, I assumed we could talk about it or even consider it. I've come to the conclusion that I must not mean as much to her as I thought. The fact that she can just cut me off is heartbreaking. And I can't even bear to sleep next to Lena, can't bear to feel her next to me, which is why I've resigned myself to stay in my office instead of the bedroom. I've barely slept and have almost wanted to get calls from work just to distract myself.

That withdrawing feeling is heavy and I need my fix of her. It keeps hitting me, over and over again, and I finally stop. As I lean forward I try to catch my breath, wrap my arms around my stomach, and want to fall to my knees.

God, I'm love sick. How can I be love sick at my age? I'm not even just love sick, I'm fucking sick. My body and heart and mind are fucked up because of one person and I don't want to feel this way anymore. I just want to see her and be with her and resolve this and move on.

I decided instead of going to the gym I would go to Washington Square Park in the hopes of bumping into her, since this is her neighborhood, but didn't have any luck in that. I take my headphones out as I walk, or rather limp, across the park. It's extremely busy and crowded, which is no surprise, because it's a beautiful afternoon. When I make it to my car I pop my headphones back into their case, grip the steering wheel tightly, and finally let my breathing calm. Still, my eyes are searching for her on the sidewalks, looking for black hair and tattoos.

Her place is right down the street. I could make it there in ten minutes, maybe a little longer with traffic, or I could even walk. The urge to go over there is almost overpowering, but I fight against it. I'm not that guy who forces himself into a woman's life. I can't do that, no matter how badly I want to. If we could just get together and talk or if she'd just answer my messages, maybe we could get somewhere. I'm suddenly angered yet again by what I feel is her immaturity. She's playing with my heart and my emotions and I'm not completely sure if she knows what she's doing.

Is she playing me? Is she doing this on purpose? Does she want me to come to her and get down on my knees and fucking beg? I may be pussy whipped, as Joe would say, but I still have a little bit of pride left. And I think I've begged her enough. If she loves me I shouldn't have to beg.

I take off my armband and slide my phone out of it, then pull my shirt on. I grimace at how wet it is from my sweat, then slip into traffic. My mind is racing because I'm so close to where she could possibly be. I could just drive by and see if her car is there, at least, just to check.