Come Back Home (Tom/Andrew Love Story)

Chapter 12.

*Raquel's POV*

After our Chinese takeout movie night, I had a hard time falling asleep. My heart seeps into its own agony of the hard truth, spiraling thoughts, images of the past, the disappointment of what our future looks like now. I sit on the kitchen counter, stirring my coffee, over and over again. Resting my head on my left hand, while my elbow sits on top of the counter. For a second, I didn't even want to go and look for Peter (T). I don't know if I'm ready to face him.

But another part of me hopes that he and I could still work this through. The minute we lay eyes on each other again, everything will...all be okay. Lots of explaining to do, lots of jealousy that would need to get over, lots of forgiving, lots of potential arguing. But it's all going to be okay. Right?

It has to.

If not, everything we've been through together for the past two years, all our hard work that we've built in our relationship will be for nothing. 

But I am still second place. 

My tears pile up the moment I think of MJ, him grabbing her hand.

I remember the way she looked, the way she looked at him even.

I find myself stirring my coffee harshly, tightening the grip on my spoon, irritated at the image of her in my head.

I jolt a little at the sudden bang I hear from the garage, that I quickly pulled out my spoon from the cup, spilling drops of coffee on the countertop. 

"PETER!" Aunt May screams at him from upstairs.

I jump again at her scream, sigh in exhaustion, placing both of my elbows on the countertop, resting my face on my hands.

"Sorry!" He hollers from the garage.

I sigh, forcing myself to find the energy to get a paper towel and clean up my little mess.  I almost forgot he's been working on the machine all morning. He is so dedicated, and here I am contemplating if I even want to face my Peter (T). What if I told Peter (A)  I didn't feel like finding my Peter (T) anymore? Or even want to go back home? The confrontation of everyone and everything is becoming too much to bare. 

Peter (A) has already started this machine and he's provided immense effort to genuinely help me. I'd feel terrible telling him to pause.

The following day,  he noticed my frown and sudden silence in between morning greetings and conversations. He offers to get some air at the park with me, or sit down for some coffee at a nearby café. I didn't feel like it.

He understood, and let me be. He said he'd be here if I needed anything.

The next day after, brooding away on a heartbreak and indecisive thoughts, I noticed that I slept the whole day. Probably wasn't able to catch as much sleep from the other night. I needed to be productive. Stay distracted from the dwelling thoughts of my boyfriend being in love with his ex. Moping around and being in bed all day is not good. Where was my dignity?

I open the garage door, trying not to look groggy. Peter (A) and I lock eyes and he puts his tools down.

"Ah, she awakes from her slumber." He gently smiles. "You okay? Hibernated well enough, huh?"

I smile back, nodding. "Oh yeah. Is there anything I can do?"

"You sure you're up for it?" He stands tall now, brushing off some saw dust from his white coat lab jacket.

"Yes," I wince a little. "Well I need to at least be productive."

"Oh NOW you want to be productive." He teases.