Lauren:They always do.
Michael:How are you feeling?
Lauren:Ate something bad today. Felt like crap, but I’m better now. Why are you up? It’s almost 11 PM East.
Michael:Just thoughts.
I stare at his last message, wondering how to answer even as the “typing…” under Michael’s name keeps flashing on and off, a sinking feeling settling at the pit of my stomach, and I let my fingers do the thinking.
Lauren:Should we even be talking, Michael?
Michael:I guess not...
The heaviness in my chest doubles, and this time I wait as Michael writes and regrets for a good thirty seconds until another message finally comes through.
Michael:Don’t you want to talk?
Lauren:I’m worried about you.
Michael:That’s funny because I’m worried about you.
Lauren:I’m not the one who left because things got too heavy.
Michael:Yeah, I guess that’s true…
Lauren:Trista told me she’s coming back next week.
Michael:For Phoebe’s birthday.
Lauren:Oh, good to know! I’ll tell her happy b-day while she’s here.
Michael:Lore…
Lauren:It’s okay.
Michael:It really isn’t.
Lauren:Sure it is, Cupcake. I had a lovely second date with a nice accountant today. I’m about to get my life savings back and quit Garderobe to pursue my dream, all while I get to watch ice queen Phoebe whip Jason’s sorry ass.All thanks to you.
Michael:It was all you, Rockstar. Always was.
Lauren:You and your words.
Michael:Are they working?
Lauren:Good night, Michael.
Michael:Night, Lore.
“You’re a rockstar,” I repeat to myself as I snuggle under the covers and look at the empty half of the bed beside me, tears springing to my eyes. “You are a rockstar, Lauren. Don’t you ever forget it.”
* * *
Michael
I had a lovely second date with a nice accountant today.
“Fuck.” I run my hand through my hair with a groan, the icy feeling invading my veins almost too painful to bear.