"Oh, I didn't order this"
"It's from that guy over there"
☕☕☕
One blueberry milkshake, a stranger sitting next to her, a cheerful waitress. The play begins.
Wott, the coffee shop close to Avery's school, is the stage for the act she plays, again and...
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I am heartbroken.
I spent all weekend replaying that night in my head. The look on his face when he saw it, the hurt and betrayal in his eyes when he stared at me, his emotionless voice, the deafening silence, the tears I shed when I got home.
Guilt.
It was consuming me, destroying me. How could I just ruin everything? Doing that to him, the one person I most need, was so shameful. How could I do it knowing how enraged I was when I found out about his 'boyfriend'?
Of course, I could blame it on the drinks, on everything and everyone, but the truth was simple. I wasn't thinking. I wasn't thinking that night would mean something to us or that it was wrong. The thought of hurting him didn't cross my mind once.
In the past couple of days, I tried to convince myself it was fair. Mathew for the fuckbuddy. If we aren't together, it is okay. But is it, though?
No. He left the other guy for me and I should've been what he expected me to be. Faithful.
And that brings us to right now, to looking through the glass, staring at his back and gathering courage to get inside.
I push the door open and walk to the counter, each step heavier than the prior.
"A blueberry milkshake, please," I ask, voice restraint, and sit down next to him. "Good morning" I greet but he doesn't even look at me.
James is more focused on his drink.
Gema sets my milkshake on the counter and I thank her with a brief smile that takes longer to come than it should've.
"Are you mad at me?" I ask.
Funny how we switched places.
He still doesn't look at me, but he isn't giving me the silent treatment as I feared.
"No" he doesn't explain any further.
This is where we are different. I was extremely angry when I found out about his friend, yet James is an extremely calm and reserved person. He won't shout, but that doesn't mean he understands and forgives.
Looking at the scowl he wore, the feeling I had two nights ago and on the first day I met him surfaced again.
"James, I'm so sorry! Tell me what can I do to..."
"Stop!" he demands. "You already said that."
He doesn't even finish his drink before leaving, just gets up and tosses a few coins on the counter.
"Wait! Please, talk to me! James!" I call "Please, don't ignore me"
He doesn't care.
"At least now you know what feels like to be ignored by the person you love."
