“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”
“I think you’ve said enough for both of us.”
“You’re not even upset?” she railed at him – her heart breaking in two. “Say something! Talk to me! Tell me you didn’t do this to me…”
“And if I told you that I didn’t – would you believe me?”
The silence that hung there was telling.
“I’ve gotta get back to work,” he began slowly, looking away. “And I think our practice tonight is off.”
“Ya think?”
“I’ll have security get your keys…”
“Keep it,” she snarled tearfully. “I’ll walk.”
“We’re twenty miles away…”
“So? Then I’ll get an Uber or something – but I want nothing from you because it ends with being stabbed in the back by the one person I trusted, the person I let in.”
“Steffi…”
“Go play with your buddies…”
“You make it sound like this is a choice,” he said hoarsely. “I’m not making a choice – I’m not choosing them over you – I’m going back to work so I can take care of us. It’s my job.”
“Then go,” she whispered thickly, getting to her feet and dusting herself off. “Go away because I don’t need more of whatever this is. If you are ‘taking care of me’ by getting me evicted to suit your own purposes – it just backfired.”
“You need some space.”
“You need a swift kick in the head.”
“I’ll get security to fetch your keys,” he began again – and she wanted to throttle his stubborn hide because she wanted nothing from him. It took a split second for her to realize that maybe she did need those keys, because getting fired meant no more paychecks – and an Uber would cost money.
Nodding, she hesitated and got out her phone, pressing record. “Do I have permission to drive your Toyota Camry?” He got this flat, angry look on his face that was intimidating. “Do I? If I get pulled over, I want this on video, that I have your permission to drive your car.”
“It’s your car – I gave it to you,” he ground out and then sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before looking at her phone. “I, Drake Walker, give you the Toyota Camry that you are driving… just like I am freely giving you my time, my everything, and my attention. I know you are mad – but…”
“I’m furious,” she interrupted hoarsely, and he nodded, looking away.
“I know – and I’m sorry you are having a bad day.”
“Terrible.”
“Steffi…”
“Just don’t,” she stopped him, not wanting to cry again. Right now, she wanted peace, a moment to pull herself together, and time away from him so she could figure out her next steps. She was going to need to find a job, find somewhere else to live, and right now, just looking at him was messing with her mind.
“All right, Steffi,” he said quietly. “When you want to talk – just come next door, and I’ll be there.”
Drake walked away – and curse her - she watched.
She caught herself ogling his backside as he walked away. The man was gorgeous and clueless. If you were wanting to start a relationship, wanting to talk to someone, you did everything you could to build trust, to foster a friendship. For a time, she thought that things were changing between them, but maybe nothing ever changed… except her, her job, and her location.
An hour later,Fate wasn’t done trashing Steffi’s day. She was sitting on the couch, eating straight from the container of her celebratory ice cream bucket that she’d bought on sale several months ago. It had been a splurge, an indulgence, and unfortunately, had sat untouched more often than not. There were ice crystals on the plastic lid, but that didn’t stop her.
Ruined ice cream? Meet ruinedmood- and ruinedlife.