𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐇 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 [slow updates]

𝟑𝟐

CINDY

Levin laughs, pressing a kiss to my cheek as he stands up. "Okay, you're very good at distracting me, but I have to go."

I frown.

Why do jobs exist? Particularly his job. Why can't he stay with me all day long, forever? He's so warm. He's smells so good, looks so good. He's funny and kind and mine. And he has to go to work? BLEH.

But I'm super cool and not clingy, so I let him get up without another word. I stare at his butt until he closes the bathroom door behind him before flopping down on the bed.

My son doesn't seem to like that because he starts kicking me. Even when I stand up, he's kicking me. When I go to sit down at the couch, he's still kicking me.

I tap my belly a few times, matching the rhythm of his kicks out of boredom.

See, I have a few options. One: I could make breakfast. Two: I could read because I am seriously not in a cooking mood. Three: I could go back to sleep, then make breakfast, then read in my dreams.

Sounds pretty great to me. Who wouldn't—

My procrastination is interrupted by three knocks at my front door.

When I open it, the last person I expect to see on the other side of the door is Tommy.

It's like our kid was trying to warn me. That's why he was beating me up.

I narrow my eyes at Tommy.

We haven't spoken a word to each other in weeks. Not over the phone, not over text, and definitely not in person. What is he even doing here?

"Hey," he says. "Can I come in?"

Is he kidding me right now? Can he come in? Fuck no, he can't come in. Not after how he treated me, not after how he made me feel.

There's no way in hell I'm going to put on my big-girl pants and be mature about this. If he would have asked to "come in" several weeks ago, I would have let him in. But he's a coward and it's been over a month, and honestly? I'm over it. I'm over putting up with him.

Not that I say any of that to his face.

"Not really." I shrug my shoulders a little too high.

He makes a face. Like, "how could she say no to me?" NO!! That's how Thomas.

"Then, can you come out? I want to talk to you."

Well, I don't want to talk to you.

I cross my arms. "I'm busy, Thomas."

His shoulders fall and he tries to reach out to put a hand on my elbow, but I step away from him.

When he makes that face—his brows furrowed and his frown deep, I almost feel bad. Why, though? I didn't do anything wrong.

He sighs. "Come on, Cin. Don't be like that."

"Like what?" I don't look at him. I look at Levin's shoes by the door. "I'm just busy at the moment."

"What could you possibly be doing at this hour? You're never awake this early." He sound like he's accusing me, like I'm doing something wrong.

I narrow my eyes. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" He mocks.

"All right, I have to get ready. Bye, Thomas."

I try to close the door as I walk away, but he sticks his foot in before I can. Turning back around, I just stare at him. Is he being serious?