Owen
Iwatch as Donna spears her salad dabbed with just a smidge of dressing. She eats so little in an attempt to keep skinny. I remember when Gracie came back after her ninety-day rehab stay. She’d been so skinny from the drugs, and Donna flipped. She’d cried for about a week because she could never get that low of weight without doing something unhealthy. I don’t know why it upset her so much, but damn, the woman can cry when provoked.
“I don’t want to move in with you,” I finally say.
She asked me before the food even arrived. But we’ve had this conversation so many times, that I don’t see the point in it anymore. She knows my answer. I absolutely refuse to move in with her. It’s the one thing I’m able to keep my foot down on, and I’m not letting up any time soon. I don’t want to move in with her. I stayed with her for an entire week, and it was fucking miserable. The woman wouldn’t let me do anything. The house is decorated the way she wants. Everything is where she wants. I accidentally put a ladle in the wrong drawer, and she flipped.
There was even one time when she begged me to move in with her that she told me I could have a little space in the closet, but that’s all I would be able to have. She has “too many things to give up.” Whatever that means. I think it also means I’m just not fucking allowed to feel comfortable in a place I’m supposed to live if we live together. My comfort and my space are not something I’m willing to give up so damn easily.
Funny though. Because up until six months ago, she had never brought up living together. It only started when Gracie moved in with me and Devon.
Donna drops her fork, making it clatter on her plate, and leans back, crossing her arms as she glares at me. “Why not? Give me a damn good reason, Owen. Not that bullshit about your space again.”
I huff and shake my head, reaching into my pocket to take out my wallet and flip it open, plucking out the green bills within. I don’t want to repeat myself to her.
“Owen,” she demands and reaches over, grabbing hold of my wrist. “Don’t you love me?”
No. Not the way you want me to.I shake her grip off me, drop both bills and wallet to the table, and reach for my coke. I take a long sip from it and then sit it down.
“I don’t even know if I want to keep this relationship going, Donna. I really don’t.”
Her eyes widen in shock, and she sits back. For a moment, she’s actually quiet. I take in the wordless minutes and pick up the cheeseburger oozing extra melted cheese onto my plate and take a bite of it.
“You can’t break up with me,” she chokes and leans forward. “Please don’t. I love you.”
I flicker my gaze up to her and swallow my bite, sitting my cheeseburger back down. I take another sip of Coke and sit back. “And why not? Love isn’t enough to keep a relationship together, Donna. You’ve cheated on me several fucking times.”
Her eyes tear up. “I know, and I’m sorry. It’s just… you’re always so busy with work and Gracie. I mean, you get so distracted, and I just feel lonely, and when these guys give me attention, I can’t help it sometimes.”
What utter, fucking bullshit. I groan and push my plate away, no longer hungry.
She sniffs and then drops the act. “Fine, what the fuck ever, Owen.” She snatches up her purse and rises to her feet. “Don’t move in with me. I don’t care, but that’s not a reason to break up with me. You’re a good man. You aren’t going to just break up with me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to use the restroom.”
Without waiting for a response from me, she saunters off to the bathroom, her heels clacking against the linoleum floor. I hate when she’s right. I can’t just break up with her. It isn’t going to be easy, but I know I’m going to have to sooner than later. Sticking in a relationship that makes me so miserable is not worth it. Even my parents have noticed my flaring moods. The frustration that comes with it all. The way I sometimes snap for no reason. So many emotions pressed together and unable to let any out in a healthy way. The sex doesn’t do it for me.
“Here you are,” the waitress chirps, sitting down our bill.
I smile at her. She’s the same one from the night of Gracie’s meeting. She’s recovered from the coffee fiasco, which is good, but I still feel kind of bad for her. “Thank you.”
She nods with a bob of her head and scurries off when I don’t need anything else. Leaning back in my chair, I tilt my head back and close my eyes, rubbing my forehead. Donna will be back any moment, and once she sees the bill, she’ll press me to use my badge as a way to get out of paying. It never fails. She is adamant about me acting like I’m fucking royalty or something, all because I’m a damn cop. That’s not how it works at all. Gracie knows that and has never tried to use it to her advantage. It probably helps that her dad is also a cop and has been her entire life. She knows the rules.
Donna’s just a greedy bitch.
I know it’s bad to think so poorly of her, but I’m so over all this. Thinking good things about her is just becoming harder every single day.
I just… I just feel so fucking trapped.Thatis why I haven’t broken up with her. I think. I want to believe that’s the reason.
Donna finally returns, wiping her mouth and smudging her lipstick a little. I narrow my eyes at her and flash my gaze to the bathroom hallway just as a man saunters out, zipping up his pants. Fucking really? I hope I’m just jumping to conclusions.
As suspected, her eyes find the bill, and she reaches forward, snatching it up, waving it in my face. “You can just show your badge. You’ll get the food for free.”
I yank it out of her fingers. “No.”
She scowls and rolls her eyes in annoyance. She has to stay put or walk home. I’m the one who drove here, and I know she isn’t going to walk miles in those heels. Maybe she can get another boyfriend of hers to drive her home.
Shut up. You’re putting yourself in a bad mood. Stop it.
I pick up my wallet and stand, pocketing it. “Let’s just go.”