Page 57 of His Hot Mess

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The next morningwas cool for the end of May. I woke, bleary-eyed, at seven, with my head as gray as the heavy clouds blotting out the sun though my window. When I finally dragged myself out of bed and to the kitchen to put on coffee, the silence in my apartment was so heavy it was like a physical thing wrapped around my shoulders.

Last night had not been good. I’d eaten a package of ramen noodles, had a shower, and vowed to go straight to bed. But I already knew I was in a bad spiral that only got worse as the night went on. Normally I’d call Lucy when I got like this, but we were fighting too.

Somehow I’d made things even worse than they’d been in New York. Things were more of a mess than they’d ever been.

Iwas more of a mess.

The worst part of all was when I had tried to sleep last night. I stuck earplugs in and shoved a pillow over my head, but nothing could block out the sounds of Chris moving around downstairs. I could hear him drilling and hammering and doing whatever the hell else he was doing down there in my shop.

But it wouldn’t matter if he was making any noise at all. Just knowing he was there was agitating enough to keep me wide awake.

Several times I wanted to run down and tell him to stop. To go home; we could do it tomorrow. Other times I wanted to run down and throw myself into his stupid arms.

But those thoughts made the tears come, and I didn’t have time for those.

The new Sadie didn’t cry over men.

What new Sadie? This is the same old Sadie. Nothing has changed.

At three AM, I gave up on sleep. If I was going to be the old Sadie, I might as well go with it. I put in my headphones, turning to a raucous eighties soundtrack. I blasted the music as loud as I could, until it hurt my ears.

I let it.

Somehow, the chaos of the music must have done something to amplify the physical and emotional exhaustion from the day, because sleep finally claimed me.

Now, only a few hours later, I was awake, but barely. I made the coffee too strong, but I forced myself to finish a cup while it was still brewing. Then I poured another. The burning tang of it in my throat should have cleared my head, but I was oblivious to everything except the thought of him.

Chris.

I looked at the clock and my stomach plunged. I’d have to see him in under an hour.

After a cold shower, I was as alert as I was ever going to be on only a few hours of sleep. I decided I had enough time to get to Aubrey’s for some kind of espresso drink before he got here, so I put on a fresh working outfit and jogged down the stairs.

What was I going to say to him? What magic words could I say to both apologize for whatever had happened yesterday, and to really and truly finally make sure he knew I wasn’t planning on being with him again?

I was so lost in thought I almost slipped on something small and hard under my sneaker when I reached the bottom of the stairs. I lifted up my shoe: my shop keys were lying on the floor under the mail slot. Chris must have stuck them in there when he’d left last night.

This morning, if we were being technical. How long had he stayed?

I picked the keys up and stepped outside into the cool morning air. At least he wasn’t still there. I don’t know if I could have faced him before coffee.

When I opened the door to the shop, I sucked in a breath.

It was almost unrecognizable. In one night, Chris had managed to do what looked like three or four days of work. The wood pile was gone, the pieces separated and stacked in different parts of the store, where they’d be used. The two pedestals where the mannequins had sat were dismantled—I found their remains neatly piled by the back door. Several other pieces of work were completed and I knew, suddenly, what he’d been trying to do.

Reduce the job down to as few days as possible.

Minimize the amount of time he’d have to spend with me.

Good. That was for the best. I turned on my heel, stepping back outside. I went to get my coffee.

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At eight o’clocksharp there was a rap at the door. I was back in the shop, well-caffeinated and ready to get the hard conversation out of the way.

Thank you for all your hard work last night. I’m sorry about yesterday but you can be absolutely guaranteed it won’t happen again. Tell me what we need to do to finish this job as quickly as possible. Then, let’s make an effort to keep away from each other.

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