By the time I wake up, I'm alone in his bed. I can't see the clock without my glasses, but it's got to be late morning. He's usually an early riser, so I'm not surprised that he's already up. Everything hurts, and I roll over and close my eyes again, trying to prepare myself to get out of bed.
Eventually I manage to get my feet on the floor and stand up, shuffling to my bedroom to pull on a robe. I pause and look at myself in the mirror for the first time in a while. The swelling has gone down and I almost look like myself. A rough version of myself, sure, but recognizable at least. I brush my hair and teeth and make my way downstairs to find Lindsey.
I hear glasses clinking as I approach the kitchen and call his name. When I walk through the door, though, I'm surprised to see a tall redheaded woman fixing herself a cup of coffee.
"Um, hello?"
"Hey," she says, glancing over her shoulder at me.
"Who are you?"
"Oh, Lindsey's girlfriend. Sherrie," she says, offering me her hand. "And who are you?"
"I'm his... Stevie. I'm Stevie," I say awkwardly. Girlfriend? I try not to act surprised.
"Oh, right! He mentioned that you were here. Can I get you a cup of coffee?"
"I'm fine, thank you. Do you know where he is?"
"He's in the office finishing up a call." She stares at me for a minute, and I know that she's trying to reconcile who she sees in front of her with you she knows that I am. "Do you need some ice for your face? It doesn't look so good."
"I'm fine, thank you. It's been a rough week," I say, struggling to be polite. "If you'll excuse me." I make a quick exit and head toward Lindsey's office. He pops out of the door just as I start down the hallway.
"Good morning!" His tone is entirely too cheerful, but I try to smile as he hugs me. "Everything okay?"
I nod and hug him back. "I met Sherrie."
"Oh. I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you she was coming over. We're headed out to lunch in a few minutes. Would you like to join us?"
"I can't go out in public right now!"
"You look much better," he says, touching my face. "A little bit of make up and some sunglasses and nobody will know the difference."
"I don't know if I'm up for it."
"I really don't want to leave you alone yet. Please come."
I look down at my feet, shaking my head. He cups my face in his hands, tilting it toward his. he gives me a ridiculous pout and I can't help but laugh a little bit. "Fine. But I'll need a few minutes."
"Take your time. We'll be in the kitchen," he says, kissing my forehead then heading down the stairs.
I start to get ready, but I can't stop thinking about the fact that he didn't tell me that he was seeing anybody. I suppose I should've assumed that he was dating. It's not like we've been in touch at all.
Somehow, I struggle through the lunch. I know that I'm more quiet than I usually am, but I think that I'm pleasant enough. I get stuck tagging along on a couple errands before he drops her off and we get to return to the house.
Before he can say anything, I excuse myself and head upstairs to my room to change. I put on something more comfortable and crawl onto my bed, staring at the blank pages of my journal. I feel silly for being so upset. He has no obligation to me. And in light of everything else that's gone down this week, I'm aware that this is the least of my problems. Somehow, though, it feels wrong. There's a pen in my hand, but I can't even put the words on paper.
