Page 73 of The Thorne at My Side
I stare at the SMS Connect phone on my coffee table. I decide to be the bigger person and send a message.
TalkShopGirl:Hey. Picking an opening word or line for this message seemed like an impossible feat so I went basic. Casual. No big deal. Except, I'm not in a good spot this morning. I want to ask why you weren't there last night. I want to know what happened to you. But any reason you can give me doesn’t change the fact that I sat alone, waiting, for over an hour.
And the thing that hurts the most right now is that I want to talk to you aboutwhat happened to me last night. When I was at my most vulnerable point waiting for you, a person who has been a pain in my ass for the last month at work showed up and, I'm not proud of it but, I was mean to him. I let some jealousy and nerves from our meeting spill into my conversation with him. And while we aren't friends I do want this person to think highly of me. To respect me.
So not only did I miss out on meeting you last night, I drew the line deeper in the sand with a person I might be forced to work with going forward.
I'm headed out of town for the next week and I'm going to leave this SMS Connect phone at home. Maybe we pushed it too far too fast. Maybe you got scared. Or maybe your thumbs are broken because of some terrible accident. But regardless, your silence speaks volumes and I need some space.
CHAPTER 21
From Bad to Worse
MAGGIE
"And I anticipate four years of prosperity and…and?"
"Growth?" Sam suggests with a shrug.
"That's the same as prosperity." I say as I rub my face before remembering I’ve got makeup on. My fingertips come back brown with eyebrow pencil and sparkly from my eyeshadow.
"True, okay, umm, peace?"
"We can't promise that."
"Right," Sam mutters as she lays with her legs propped over the arm of the sofa. We're in the Senator's hotel suite on election day. She jumped on the plane to make one last appearance in Dayton, Ohio and Sam and I stayed back to finalize her acceptance speech. The concession speech has been done for weeks. It's not considered a bad omen to have that one ready plus it's short and sweet to write. "Thank you, I've learned so much, enjoyed the process, and look forward to the future under president blah blah blah."
In order to avoid all manner of tempting fate, the acceptance speech cannot be written before election day. It definitely cannot be read by the candidate before the results are in. So in-line with tradition Sam and I are drafting it now.
My pen taps incessantly on the top of my notepad. The thump, thump, thump, doing little to calm the chaos in my mind.
"Why is this so hard?" I grumble as I toss my things on the coffee table between us in frustration.
"That's what she said."
"Lame." I deadpan but I can't help how I smile anyway at the dumb joke.
"Let's take a walk and let the physical movement shake some words out of us." Sam suggests as she swings her legs around and sits up.
"Alright, where to?"
"Wanna go check out the ballroom?"
"Okay, and then get a coffee on the way back up."
"Sounds like a plan.”
???
The walk, the flurry of party preparations, the coffee, none of it worked. We ended up with a different line in the speech. I have a feelingprosperity andis going to keep me up at night.
The sun set hours ago and we’re now in the suite together with the senator's family, close friends, and the entire team.
Including Austin.
I’m using my spidey sense that’s tuned into his frequency to avoid him. If he walks into the dining area where I've been writing at the table, I stand up and move to the sitting area. If he walks closer to the kitchenette that dead-ends into the wall, I make a beeline for the second bedroom in the suite that has an alternative exit through the bathroom. I'm like an undercover agent always scouting out the closest escape route.
I have tried to push last Tuesdaynight so far out of my mind that the pressure of keeping it tucked away takes up more mental energy than just feeling the horribleness of it. Anytime I try to figure out what I’m feeling about being stood up by DCFox it morphs into the frustration of seeing Austin instead. How his presence doubled the pain of the moment. That I was escaping the challenges of my professional life by going all in on personal endeavors only to get burned. So here I remain, holding hands and skipping down the sidewalk with denial, trying to focus on the election results as they come in.
