Mr. Elitist [ A Novel ]

39

| Isabella |

I expected Nathan to come back eventually, or at least call me, but the rest of the day went by and I got nothing but radio silence. I knew he would need his space, we'd just had our first serious fight and I didn't expect him to get over it quickly. So I waited all day Sunday too, and again, nothing. I called him Monday morning, and afternoon and evening, but he never picked up the phone. Soon each day morphed together until finally it had been an entire week with no word from him- no attempt to communicate and try to figure this out. 

I was disappointed. I wanted him to call me and get over whatever he was trying to work out but I also knew that was selfish of me. Since I'd been the one to keep this secret from him, it made sense that I would be the one to make everything better. But I couldn't get myself to do it. 

I went to work just fine all week, but as soon as I got home I'd find myself glued to the couch, either curled up in a blanket moping or watching TV. The colder weather didn't help me either, as the chill from winter began to pop up, I found myself less and less motivated to leave my sad spot on the couch. I didn't cry as much. 

The first day after he walked our I broke down immediately. Sobbing to Rachael about how I'd screwed everything up and that now my relationship with Nathan was never going to be the same. She was able to calm me down enough to pull myself together but that didn't stop me from spending the rest of the week in a state of emotional turmoil unlike any I'd ever experienced in my life. It was paralyzing . . . so much so that I was still on the couch, even a week after it had happened, waiting desperately for a call I knew would never come. 

"He's overreacting." says Rachael and I nod. We were currently in the apartment, she had decided to join me in moping around, taking a day off from her busy wedding schedule, to sit with me while I ate ice cream and binge watched TV. 

"I know I should have told him but I didn't expect him to be this mad." I sigh. 

"I understand why he's mad . . . but I think he could at least have the decency to call you back." she says. "If he's this quick to give up . . . after one bad fight . . ." 

I sigh again, feeling so forlorn and hopeless that I can barely stand it. "This is all my fault." I say, feeling tears burning in my eyes for the millionth time. 

"Maybe he's waiting for you to actually go over to his apartment." she says thoughtfully. "And make some kind-of grand gesture." 

"I've apologized a million times- in all my messages I left and in all the texts I sent." I say and she shakes her head, eating another spoonful of cookie dough ice cream. 

"But that's all so much better in person you know?" she says and I nod, I knew she was right. I knew I should go over but I can't seem to find the motivation to get off the couch. I'd been motivated enough to go to work and hope every single day he'd show up during my lunch break again but he never did. I wondered why I'd hurt him so much. I knew I should have told him right away, but I didn't think it was that big of a deal. To him it was about trust- that much I'd figured out, but it was killing me not hearing him explain it to me. 

I was emotionally drained and tired- very tired. It was my own fault for getting us in this mess, and now it was up to me to fix it. 

"Should I go over now?" I ask, clicking the home button on my phone to check the time and also see if maybe, against all odds, he'd texted me. But a measly 7:32 blinked back at me and nothing else- no messages or missed calls. 

"I mean, I don't think that's the worst idea you've ever had." she says and I laugh lightly, rolling my eyes. 

"I get it Rachael, I screwed up." I say and she smiles at me.