I stomped my foot, "Not changing!"
He turned around and gave me a sly smirk before leaving.
I release a deep breath and grab my tray. Blame it on my pride, but I'm not marrying a stranger for money. After the third step, I head back towards the table and grab the paper and card.
I'll burn it later.
Heading home, everyone was asleep. I flopped on the couch, unable to drag my leg any farther.
A loud alarm woke me up, and I realized I had two free hours before I had to return to work. A blanket was hung over me as well as a note:
Hey Ann,
Took the boys to school.
Eat this before work.
Love,
Us all.
Glancing over, a plate of waffles was beside me as well as whipped cream, syrup, and fruits. I pulled the coffee table, too lazy to sit up. Spray the cream, drizzle the syrup, and dump the fruits. I took a bit of the waffle and fell asleep.
My eyes opened, and I sat up hearing my phone ringing, realizing the waffle was still in my mouth.
Fuck it. I'll eat on the way to work.
That's how it went for the past three days.
Work.
Eat.
Sleep.
Work.
Eat.
Repeat.
I barely get to see any of the boys.
When was the last time I took a shower?
When was the last time I took a dump without timing myself to ensure I didn't fall asleep?
"Ann, please go home," Mr. Rayland said.
"No, I'm-"
"When was the last time you looked at yourself in the mirror? Ann, you look like you're about to faint any second. You took a double shift three days in a row, and I'm pretty sure that's against the law. Go home. Don't worry. I'll pay you for the rest of the day," he said, giving me a plate of food.
I hugged him, "Thank you, Mr. Rayland," I mumbled, before grabbing the plate. Walking towards the restaurant corner, I ate it as the workers came over, continually asking me if I needed anything. I love all my co-workers. They are so nice to me. But, sometimes, I wished they would stop it.
It gets quite irritating and frustrating.
Those pitiful eyes.
Heading out, I decided to stop by a cafe and take a nap before going home.
I fell asleep on the counter.
Waking up, I wiped off the drool from my cheeks. My face turned watching a couple. The guy was rubbing a girl's flat stomach, concluding my assumption of her pregnancy, or he just called her fat.
Let's go with pregnancy.
She was glowing. He was glowing. They look so happy.
I sat up when I saw them heading in. "What would you like, Angel?" he said softly. He closed the umbrella and the water splattered on the ground.
"The usual," she said, kissing him. She made her way towards the table across from me before a sweet smile surfaced.
He is right to call her Angel. She looks like one.
She was breathtaking, with her flawless pale skin and long beautiful black hair. Even if she had average brown eyes, it was brimming with life. A male worker was cleaning the oven-cleaned table; eyes not once waver from her.
