Page 22 of Crazy About Love (All About Love)

18 MONTHS, 18 DAYS AGO

SATURDAY 10:23A.M.

You remember when we invented a word for an unknown stain on your jeans? Well, there’s a mystery mark on my jeans.

SUNDAY 2:59P.M.

Walking Dead tonight!!!! You on? I have a feeling that there will be no casualties tonight. Wanna take me up on that bet?

MONDAY 7:18A.M.

Petitioning for work to start at eleven on Mondays. Just text back your name, or even just a letter, to support this very important cause.

MONDAY 5:52P.M.

You still at work? Want me to pick you up some dinner?

WEDNESDAY 9:42P.M.

I’ll take Radio Silence for two hundred, Alec.

WEDNESDAY 11:48P.M.

*Goodnight sweetheart, well, it’s time to go…(do do dee do)* I really did sing that. And if you haven’t seen Three Men and a Baby, that’s what we’re watching next movie night.

FRIDAY 12:22P.M.

It was strawberry frosting! The source of the mystery mark source has been found. PS…there’s cake in my fridge.

FRIDAY 8:08P.M.

It’s been over a week since your audition and I haven’t heard from you. I know you’re alive, so I’m not too worried. (Not about your well-being, anyway. You bet your ass I’m worried about what the hell’s going on.) At least tell me if you got the part.

FRIDAY 11:56P.M.

*crickets chirping*

SATURDAY 2:00A.M.

It’s weird not talking to you. Or seeing you. But I get it. I’ll be here when you’re ready.

SATURDAY 3:02A.M.

Already breaking my promise…but just heard Landon and Liz are engaged! Party for them tonight. I’ll let you know when and where as soon as I figure it out. But for now…sweet, sweet sleep.

I let my phone slip out of my hand and onto the couch, where I’ve parked my ass all night. Damn it. I thought going cold turkey from Theresa would make it easier for me to get over my proclamation (and swift rejection) of love. Instead I’ve turned into the walking dead myself.

I put a foot up on my crowded and messy coffee table and flick through my recorded shows. Sleep would be nice, but it’s not happening. Every night I lie down and think about how she might’ve been next to me if things had gone differently.

Now that Landon proposed (I knew that was inevitable, but I didn’t think it was going downtonight), I can kiss that cold turkey idea goodbye and throw it out the window with the rest of my dumbass ideas. Because I know I’ll be Landon’s best man, Theresa’s going to be the maid of honor, and we’ll all have to act like everything is fine because no one even knows about the two of us.

Not that there ever was a “two of us.”

I reach for my beer, but the bottle’s already empty.

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