Page 99 of Desserts for Stressed People

He stares at the small screen, notifications making it ping again and again and yet again. Though it doesn’t stop, Shane sets it down as he focuses back on me, and my heart drops.

He put it face down. Face. Down. So I can’t see who’s blowing it up with a million texts.

“Heaven? Is everything okay?”

I can’t stop looking at the small black device. I don’t know if it’s his personal phone or his work one, but it doesn’t make much of a difference, does it? He could use either to talk to other girls, to be on RadaR. And if he’s putting his phone face down when I’m around, then he must be.

“Heaven? What’s going on?”

His entire face is tense. His jaw is clenched, and there are creases on his forehead. My guess is I’m looking just as distressed, because it feels like someone is stomping on my chest. “Are you still on RadaR?” I ask.

His lips part. His eyes roam over my face, but no sound comes for a while.

He is.

“I haven’t deleted it yet. I didn’t exactly have too much time to—and I didn’t think about it.” He drags a hand over his face when I blankly stare at him. “Hey, don’t do this to me, okay? We can talk about anything you want, but the CEO is coming here for a meeting, I have clients on the phone, and you’re kind of crumbling down on me.”

He’s right. I am. I told him work is work, and I’m proving myself wrong. But he put his phone face down, and I can feel sweat forming on my back. Itmustmean something, and I won’t be fooled again as I was by Alex.

Even so, I try to smile, but it barely pulls up one corner of my lips. “You’re right. We’ll talk about this later.”

“Wait,” he says as I step back, and when I turn to him, there’s a pleading expression on his face. “Please, give me a chance. I get that you’re struggling, but I need you to trust me.”

I nod, then quickly leave his office before he can say anything more.

Boy, do I want to trust Shane. But can I? Maybe it’s just bad timing—maybe breaking up with Alex isn’t enough, and I need time to heal. To not be terrified by phones and dating apps. Or maybe I’m right, and he’s lying, doing who-knows-what behind my back.

Before I turn the corner, I can’t help but look, and my heart squeezes painfully in my chest.

He’s staring down at the small screen.

Chapter25

Nevaeh with Hesitation

I setmy heels down on the shoe rack and check the clock on the wall. It rudely tells me it’s two hours past the time I should have been home, but it’s going to get worse from here on out until this event is finally over. It feels like it never will be.

In the bathroom, I remove my makeup, then grab my phone and go through Alex’s messages. He sent me seven today. They range from “I’m sorry” to “Are you with him?”, and more frightening, “I’m coming over after work.”

Work for him has been over for a while, so I don’t think he came. If he did, I don’t think he entered, because everything is in the right place, where I left it.

I text him back that we’ll talk soon. That work is hard because the event is coming up and I’m doing overtime. Overtime is a euphemism, considering I haven’t been home in over thirty-two hours.

I don’t have the strength to either cook or order dinner, so I settle for some Oreos. Sitting at my empty table, in my empty apartment, I eat cookies right out of the box, in complete silence. After the day I had, that’s all I crave.

My phone rings, and with a groan when I see it’s Alex, I answer. It’s better than having him come over. “Hello?”

“Oh, hey, Heaven—hi.”

He seems surprised I answered—probably because it’s the first time I have since the breakup. And my heart shrinks at the sound of his voice. “Hi, Alex. Listen, I just got home from work after—”

“I know, I know. I wanted to tell you that I’m working on it.”

My face scrunches as I set the cookie down on a paper towel. “Working on what?”

“On myself. I’m seeing a psychologist, and I’ll make amends. I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

Seeing a psychologist? He left merely days ago. I almost want to open RadaR and see he’s online, just to prove him wrong, but I’m too tired and too disinterested. “Okay.”

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