Page 84 of Perfect Chemistry

My face hurt from all the snot and tears. I stunk like sex and gym socks. My hair was tangled and sticking to my face. I was a right hot mess, to be sure. I slipped out of the bed and grabbed some fresh clothes from the closet before sneaking off to shower.

The hot steam cleared my head, and relaxed all of the anxiety in my muscles. I scrubbed from head to toe, getting all of the salted sweat off of my skin. When I stepped out of the shower, I could breathe again. Wiping the steam from the mirror, my eyes were still a little puffy but I didn’t look quite the same as I did when I woke up the previous morning.

I smelled like strawberries and vanilla, and my skin almost looked like it was glowing. I looked down at my watch and realized it was six o’clock in the morning. Shit.

Andie picked me up before ten in the morning. What the hell happened? Memories of Kai came flooding back, and I felt my face heat up. I knocked boots with my ex, and then ghosted him. I literally ran from his house across town before Andie picked me up.

“Oh my god! Andie!!” I gasped. She was pregnant and had to deal with my crazy ass. My eyes were burning as new tears and guilt flooded through me. “Shit. Shit,” I whispered to myself, as I dropped to the floor on my ass. I needed to get control of myself. I needed to…

“Breathe.”

“That’s it. Deep breath. And out again. You’re safe here,” Andie’s voice murmured against my temple.

I looked up to see her concerned face staring down at me. “I’m so sorry,” I sobbed, feeling like such a fucking horrible friend. It wasn’t her job to fix me, or clean up behind me.

“Stop,” she ordered me. “I know what you’re thinking, and you need to stop. You cried yourself to sleep in my arms yesterday. Jonas carried you into the house, and you have slept like a baby since.”

I shook my head. I knew what I was like. I could be violent and not have any recollection at all. I had seen what I was like in emotional distress, and had no control to change it.

“Stop!” She said more forcefully, knowing how my mind was spiraling. “You didn’t lose control. You didn’t scream. You cried, Katie. I feel like such a horrible friend for shaming you like I did. I have been scared to death that I fucked up your recovery!” She admitted crying into my shoulder as she held me tightly.

I didn’t understand what she was talking about. “What are - going on about?” I asked between sobs.

“Yesterday,” she sniffled. “You asked me for help, and I just shamed you for having sex. I didn’t mean to make you cry! I just wanted to give you shit… Like old times,” she admitted, crying harder. “Then you broke down, and I felt so fucking horrible. I am so, so, sorry, Katiedid. You have every right to move on at your own pace, and I was just so happy that you got laid… It felt like old times!” She continued rambling.

I leaned back to look at her red puffy face, snot running down tear stained cheeks, and I started laughing. We were a fucking mess, the two of us. “I thought I hurt your baby!” I admitted quietly.

“I thought I broke your recovery!”

“I felt so bad that you have to keep taking care of me!”

“I thought you would shut me out because I made you feel bad!”

“I could have hurt you and not known.”

“I knew I hurt you and I wanted to die!”

We sobbed and laughed, confessing all of our transgressions to one another until Jonas came to stand in the doorway of the bathroom and asked us to ‘please shut the fuck up.’ He hadn’t slept because of us. Andie cried all night about hurting my feelings, and kept making him check on me throughout the night.

He looked like a hot mess. “Sorry,” we whispered, ashamedly.

“Go away. Take the kids to school, and leave me to sleep,” he ordered Andie, as he returned to their room. He glanced at her, asking sheepishly, “Please?”

Andie and I nodded emphatically. Of course we would let him sleep. “Sorry!” We apologized again before he closed the bedroom door.

“Want to make breakfast with me?” Andie asked, standing up from the floor.

“Yeah. What are we making?” I asked, wrapping my arm around her waist as we walked into the kitchen together still sniffling.

“Bacon pancakes?” She offered, looking at me seriously.

I chewed on my lip for a second. “Will that make him less angry with us?” I asked her back.

She squinted her eyes as if she were weighing the options. “We could prep BLT waffles for lunch, and have pancakes for the kids.”

I nodded, no idea what she was talking about, but it sounded delicious. “What can I help you with?”

She directed me to prepare the salad and tomatoes, while she pulled the ingredients for pancakes and waffles. I grabbed two packs of bacon from the fridge and set them on the counter.

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