I was stirred from my thoughts when Luna lifted up a milk carton the size of her head. Her eyes were barely over the counter as she stood on her little pink kitty stool and tried to aim the milk into her bowl.
“Oh—” I said, half-reaching for her. “Do you want me to help you?”
Luna grunted with effort, then sloshed about half a gallon of milk in the bowl. It splashed over the side and dripped from the counter to the floor. Unbothered, she set the milk back down with determination in her eyes and her tongue sticking out. She screwed the cap on—which made her shoot me a smug little grin—then scooted it out of her way.
Next, she poured cereal into the bowl until it created a floating mountain of multi-colored sugar balls.
She spread her hands. “Tada!”
“Wow,” I said. “That’s really impressive. I guess I don’t need to help you make your breakfast anymore, huh?” So long as that big money from Rose Athletic actually hits my account this Friday. Otherwise, Luna would run through a month’s worth of milk money in three days with pouring skills like that.
There was a knock at the door. My heart sped up. Had Damon come? Was he going to take Luna away? Did he just want to see her?
I pulled open the door and saw Milly. She was already dressed in her tennis skirt and visor, presumably for a morning training session she was on the way to.
“Oh, it’s you,” I said.
“Nice to see you too.” Milly let herself in and set her bag on my coffee table. “I want to know how your weekend went.”
Considering the size of my apartment, we’d both gotten used to having our conversations in front of Luna. Thankfully, she was still just young enough to only pick up on bits and pieces, and we didn’t need to be too careful.
“I told him,” I said.
Milly didn’t say anything at first, then her eyes went wide. “You told him. Like… you told him, told him?”
“Yeah.”
“Did he murder you?”
“Unless this is hell, no. Because I don’t think there would be Mondays in Heaven.”
She slumped back in the chair. “Wow. What made you do that? I mean, what about all the things you were worried about before?”
“Do what?” Luna paused with one of the paper dolls I’d made in her hand. “Who is him?”
“Nothing sweetie. We need to go soon though, why don’t you go use the bathroom before we head out.”
“Okie dokie.” Luna hopped down from her chair and headed to the restroom.
I chewed the inside of my mouth. “We might’ve slept together, too.”
Milly made a silent “O” with her mouth. “Girl. You were with the man for two days. Did you also propose?”
“No. But I think I was wrong about him. And I suddenly felt like the shittiest person on Earth for not telling him the truth earlier. I had to.”
“Well, what now?”
“Now I show up to work and hope he doesn’t toss me out the window.”
“Well, what did he say after you told him?”
“Nothing. He just walked off and had plane tickets sent to my room. He hasn’t texted, called, or anything.”
“Hmm.” Milly popped up from the couch. “You’ll figure something out. You always do.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s not super helpful.”
“Is that what you wanted? Practical advice? Because my philosophy is to let my friends vent when they have problems, not give them solutions they’ll ignore.”
I groaned. “If you’ve got a solution, I’m all ears.”
“You kind of are…” Milly reached for my ear and tugged it. “I’ve never noticed how big they are.”
“Stop,” I laughed, slapping her hand away. “This is serious.”
“Then just give him time. You gave him a lot to process, and he’s probably trying to figure out how he feels. Simple as that.”
“Simple as that,” I repeated quietly. “Yeah.”
“Well!” Milly hiked her bag over her shoulder. “See you later, if he doesn’t kill you. Also, you’d better hope he’s not venting his anger into another woman’s vagina right about now.”
A spike of jealousy ran through me. No. I didn’t believe he’d do that. Not with Tia Klein, not with Trish, and not with any other woman. Despite my best attempts to the contrary, I trusted Damon.
29
Damon
The door to my office swung open hard enough to bang against the wall. Chris came in looking exhausted, then plopped himself in the chair across from my desk. He was wearing a sleeveless t-shirt that showcased his tattooed arms and gray sweatpants. His hair was a sweaty mess.
“You good?” I asked. “And if the answer is ‘no,’ I’m going to need you to make it someone else’s problem. I have a lot on my mind right now.”
Chris considered me. “Do you ever wonder if you’ve made a mistake?”
I didn’t like where this was going. “What did you do?”
My brother sighed. “I mean, nothing, yet. But I’m planning to make a mistake and I was trying to figure out how I’d feel afterwards.”
“Have you considered not making this mistake? The one you’re planning to make?”
“If that was an option, I wouldn’t do it.”
“I see. And what am I supposed to do for you here, exactly?”
Chris got up from his chair with another dramatic sigh. “Nothing. I just needed to see your frowning face. Sometimes it wakes me up more than coffee. Like hiding a scary doll under your bed or something.”
“You can leave now.”
He paused at the door. “I think I figured it out, by the way. You say it like “wurshur.” He made a strange face, moving his lips for emphasis. “Wurshur sauce.”
“What?”
“Everybody pronounces it like it’s this eight-syllable word. Worcestershire sauce. But I saw a cooking show and they just said Wurshur sauce.” He shrugged. “I also stocked up your fridge with a gallon jug of it. Enough for everyone now.”
I gave him an exasperated look, which he grinned at. “See? That’s the look. Always wakes
