Of course he was sympathetic, because he was Simon, and he always knew what to say, and that made me feel even worse for lying to him.
And then Sunday came around, and Killian spoke to me for the first time since our argument to say it was time to head back home, and I was glad to go.
I wanted to be back in my own space, away from him, so I could figure out what I was going to do next.
There were still over five months left in the 'marriage.’ If I wanted the money, I had to stick it out, and if I was going to stick it out, then we had to resolve things eventually.
For the moment, I was fine with being upset, and when we loaded our things into his car, I took the backseat, opting to stretch out back there, away from him.
If he had a problem with that, he didn't say anything, choosing to turn on some dry sounding podcast about money management and finances that made it easy enough for me to get a nap in while he drove us back to civilization.
I woke up later, right as he was turning onto the exit that would take us to my apartment.
I sat up and pulled out my phone, squinting at it to see I’d missed a text from Simon.
Are you going to be back soon? I had to meet someone around where you live, so I could stop by if you wanted.
Did I want that? I glanced up at the driver’s seat, where Killian was focusing on the road and the boring podcast that was still droning on. We weren’t going to get closure or resolution that day. Probably we needed some time apart. I wanted him to think about what I’d said, and I didn’t want to have to be the one to make the next move.
Sure! I sent back to Simon. We’re off the exit right now. Should be there in 10.
I’ll wait for you, then, he replied quickly.
It was going to be awkward, but considering the weekend we'd just had, I didn't think it could make anything worse. So when we pulled up to my apartment building and Simon was there, leaning against his car while he waited, I gritted my teeth and didn't say anything to Killian.
I got out of the car, and went to get my bags, smiling when Simon came over to help.
"It's just two things," I told him, waving him off.
"I'm trying to be a gentleman here," he said back, laughing. He took my overnight bag before I could stop him, and when I closed the trunk and looked through the window, Killian was watching us.
I just gave him a look, daring him to say anything or do anything that would start drama in the parking lot.
He held my gaze for a second and then just looked away, clearly not wanting to get into it.
Good. He was finally learning something, then.
Simon glanced at him and then we stood there while Killian drove away.
"So," Simon said. "Who was that?"
"Someone from school," I lied quickly. "We were doing some work for a project."
"He drives an awfully nice car to be in grad school," Simon pointed out.
I shrugged. "What, rich people can't want to get secondary degrees?"
"They can, sure, I just didn't know they usually dabbled in art. That's cool, though. Always nice to branch out." There was a look on his face like he thought there was more going on than I was telling him, and since that was exactly what was happening, I couldn't blame him.
Instead I just ushered him up to my apartment, changing the subject to ask him about his weekend and listening to him talk while we made our way in.
Once I had the door closed behind us and dropped my bags in my room, I felt better. There was distance between me and Killian, and us and the trip and the argument, so I could have some time to decompress.
Of course, I also realized the mistake in letting Simon come over.
Having him in my apartment after I'd just been arguing with Killian over him made me feel guilty. I hated that.
I had nothing to feel guilty for, and I kept reminding myself of that, for all the good it did me.
"Good weekend, though?" Simon asked, leaning against the small kitchen island while I rifled through the refrigerator in search of drinks. I needed to go shopping at some point, there wasn't much to offer.
"Sure," I said, aiming for nonchalance and not the seething bitterness I felt when I thought about it. "It was fine."
Simon hummed. "Fine doesn't sound like it went all that well. Is that guy some kind of asshole or something?"
Ha. He didn't know the half of it. I frowned, though, head still in the fridge.
"He's fine," I replied, because it wasn't really any of Simon's business what went on between me and Killian, and I didn't want to talk about it with him anyway. It would just make things more awkward.
"Sure," he echoed. "If you say so."
Maybe it was my lingering irritation with Killian, or maybe I was just tired, but Simon's words sent a flare of anger through me, and I closed the fridge door with a snap and turned to look at him.
"I do say so," I said firmly. "Why are you pushing it?"
He looked taken aback, and he lifted both hands in a gesture of peace. "Sorry. I wasn't trying to be a dick, I promise. I was just wondering if... well... if he was the reason you aren't sure about me."
It made sense when he put it like that, but I still had the urge to roll my eyes at him.
