Page 2 of You Were Invited
I’m so godawfully behind…
The extension Princely had granted while she’d been sick with the flu ran out in forty-eight hours. Not to mention that the tiniest factual mistake after printing would fill the magazine’s inbox with nasty emails.
With dread, she was coming to a dire conclusion: she wasn’t the workhorse she used to be. Something was… off.
“Babe!”
Oh.Annie sighed through her nose.He noticed the chips are still in their bags…She lifted her head, casting a groggy look over her shoulder.
Chris loomed over the bed. “Please help, babe?” He swung his hands in exasperation. “They’ll be here in, like, less than thirty minutes.”
Pain lanced through her skull. So soon? “Can I have a minute?”
"We don't have a minute!"
She shrank away.
“I really need an extra hand.” He rubbed her shoulder harder than necessary. Her nausea roiled, and his touch only intensified it. “You okay?”
“No,” she whispered, wincing and rolling over to face him. Hot tears welled behind her eyelids. A sob threatened to break free from her throat. The last thing she wanted was to cry in front of him. It made her feel weak and disgusted with herself. “I honestly don’t feel great.”
“Not great?” His touch softened, and when he sat on the bed, she drew back to accommodate him.
Even though she wanted to hide under the blankets, part of her was relieved he’d noticed her tears. Frequently, her feelingswere met with little fanfare, though, deep down, she couldn’t stop hoping for even a shred of a reaction that might soothe her emotional bruises.
Chris tenderly stroked her short, blonde hair back from her cheek. “Life ain't all about work, y’know. We gotta enjoy it.”
“I can’t not work, Chris.”
He lowered his voice. “Also, you won’t keep any friends this way.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What’s that mean?”
Chris tilted his head to the side. “You never make time for anyone anymore.”
“I’ve got you… Molly... And Peter.”
“I never see you hang out with ‘em.”
“I see Molly plenty. Peter’s just as busy as me. W-why’s it even matter?” There would be no sitting together with the mess in her head after all. She knew he didn’t really care, so what did he want?
He held a hand over his heart. “I can’t be your everything, is all I’m saying. You need a world outside of me, too, and I need to be here for my friends.”
What was he on about? Frustration brewed in her veins. She swallowed it down, but it hurt to hear even the small hint of it in her voice. “What? But I’ve gotta deadli—”
“Yes, yes, I know. And all I’m saying is that we won’t be those people who get boring because our jobs are soul-sucking, and then we don’t have time for our friends, too.”
Bless your heart, that sounds like a “you” problem.
Christopher’s go-to solution for everything lately meant ditching out on their responsibilities. He worked at a farm equipment dealership in Great Falls. He’d called in “sick” the day before with a hangover. Which had been laughable considering he’d avoided her like the plague while she’d had the flu. They’dcuddled that morning, but the urge to work had robbed her of any sense of relaxation. She’d worked in bed for perhaps ten minutes before he’d shooed her away, grumbling that her keyboard had sounded like “hammers on brick.”
“I think Molly misses you,” he said. “Did you see her post?”
“No.” She shook her head.
Her boyfriend grabbed her laptop and went to her best friend’s Facebook page. He scrolled past a dozen posts of Molly’s dog before he found a shared memory, a few days old.
Pointing, he quoted the post, “’Miss the old days when I could be carefree with my best friend!’”
