Abby

“Are you okay?” Milton asks when he walks into the barber shop exactly two hours after I arrived.

I glance up from the ledgers I’ve been updating and inspecting. With a forced smile, I nod.

“Decided to come in early and work on the books,” I mutter. I can feel the pinch in my voice, but Milton didn’t do anything to deserve this, so I school myself and try again. “How are you? Got any rest?”

Milton nods, dropping his bag and donning an apron.

“Did you get enough rest?” Milton asks, and my gaze shifts from him back to the registers.

Did I not conceal the circles under my eyes enough?

“Yeah, just had a few drinks and I were bummed for the night.”

Milton lets out an uneasy chuckle, probably trying to fill the air with something that’s not awkward.

“So.” He rubs his hands. “What’s my schedule like today?”

I clear my throat and scroll through my phone for the fixed appointments made yesterday for today.

“You have two clients before ten, three till twelve, and only two after lunch,” I say.

Milton mumbles something, agreeing before he turns up the volume on the speaker. Chronixx’s “Skankin’ Sweet” starts playing, and we both lose ourselves in our own tasks.

The first client comes in, then the second.

I drag myself through the day, plastering smiles on my face for the clients coming and leaving. Today, it feels annoying and exhausting, even though I would have enjoyed it any other day before last night.

But no amount of smiles will shake off the weight on my shoulders. I don’t know what will.

The hours go by in an endless circle of unwanted pleasantries. By the time we are closing up, my mind is a tired mess. All I want to do is collapse in my bed and close my eyes.

My phone buzzes, and I anxiously pull it out of my pocket. I hesitate, part of me hoping it’s Simone texting to check if I’m alright — I’d get the courage to apologize then. And part of me doesn’t want it to be her and explain why I was so bitter to her in the morning.

Kenya: [Hi, when can we hang out again?]

I stare blankly at the text. I’m not sure how I feel — is it annoyance or relief that it’s not Simone? Kenya’s text is a casual invitation to hang out, even though we left things in a somewhat awkward place.

We kissed that night at the barbecue.

I don’t remember what led to that, but I knew then I did not want to do it again. So, I kept it from Simone; I knew it would have broken her if I told her. Imagine one person kissing your man and your…neighbor? Who is so into you she doesn’t know how to pull away anymore?

But I don’t have anything to say to Kenya right now, so I tuck the phone back, hoping later I will have the energy to reply with the bubbly vibe she expects from me.

I decide to go straight home after work, I need to rest. My phone buzzes again once I settle into the cab. I don’t want to check it; it’s probably Kenya again. But she was not this clingy.

Another text comes in, then another, forcing me to check who the hell is texting so much.

Morgan: [Cuddle muffin]

                  [I want to see my kids.]

                 [You can’t keep them away from me forever, you know!]

               [If you don’t let me see them, I don’t want to tell you what happens next.]

My heart lunges out of my chest.

Who is he to just show up and claim that he wants to see his kids? Where was he the whole time? What was he doing?

Disgust twists in my gut.

Me: [I can’t let that happen. I raised them without a father, and they haven’t been asking about you. I can’t let you hurt them.]

With shaky hands, I put the phone away, but a second later it buzzes again.

Morgan: [I dare you, Cuddle muffin]

I don’t reply. But Morgan’s texts keep coming in fast and furious. I imagine each one is more threatening than the last. It’s like he’s trying to punish me, and it feels like I will just die from suffocation and frustration.

“Just here, please.”

The driver glances at me through the rearview mirror. He looks like he wants to protest.

“I will be fine, thank you.”

The car comes to a stop and I step out, paying. When he drives off, I start walking home. The evening air is calm; it should provide some sort of relief, but all it does is make it worse. My heart is drumming so hard in my chest, I feel like I can't breathe.

Through teary eyes, I can see two cars in Simone’s driveway. I don’t need math to know it’s Zack’s.

My heart sinks to my stomach at the realization. He is back. Zack is back.

Fuck, it hurts in my chest.

With wobbly legs, I make my way to Beth’s porch. I feel like I’m going to collapse right at the door. Tears swell up in my eyes as I enter the house.

The twins run to hug me and I ruffle their hair, refusing to talk because that lump in my gut will just burst if I let out so much as a word.

Zack is back. A knot forms in my stomach.

My eyes snap to Beth, sipping a cup of coffee and settled on the couch.

“Hi,” she says, but I don't respond. I’m already on my way upstairs.

When I get to my room, I shut the door, making sure to lock it so no one can come in. Beth will be concerned if she sees me like this, and the twins will get sad. I can't handle more sadness at the moment.

With a shaky breath, I stand by the side of my window, but I can take a clear peek at Simone’s window. I know this won’t end well. I know I shouldn’t look, but remembering the harsh words I said to her earlier, I feel the need to see how she is holding up.

But the sight that unfolds right in front of me tells me she is doing more than okay. The couple appears out of nowhere, but they're now standing in the wide open window with curtains drawn apart and kissing hungrily.

I force myself to breathe, but it’s hard.

Maybe this is her way of showing me I hurt her. Maybe this is her punishing me like Morgan is.

This feels like a nightmare. Seeing their bodies pressed together like that makes my heart race. They’re kissing and he is touching her in places I touched her. I want to look away, but I can't, even though every second of it is tearing me apart.

My chest tightens and my breathing becomes shallow. This is what I always dreaded. The reality that would come crashing down on us.

On me.

It’s a scene I’ve replayed in my mind a thousand times. And each scenario ends with me getting hurt. But reality is more painful than I imagined.

The more I watch, the more I hurt. Each kiss feels like a stab to my heart. The way Zack’s hands cradles Simone’s face, the way she looks up at him with a smile. The same smile I used to see, the same look of lust that was mine these last few days.

I want to scream, tear the curtains, and break the fucking window. But that won't change anything. So, as I stand there, unable to look away from the painful scene, I realize that I never should have kissed her; I shouldn’t have looked at her in the first place.

I can't stop the tears rolling down my cheeks.

+++

Are we all heartbroken?

💔😭