He Loves Me...He Loves You Not by S.B. Addison Books Page B

to.
    Rosa grunts behind me. I look over my
shoulder and she’s stretching. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”
    She laughs and runs her fingers through her
bed-head hair. “I know.”
    I turn back around, tug on the fridge door,
and examine our options for breakfast. “You hungry?”
    “Meh. I usually just have coffee.”
    I pull out the milk and grab the frosted
flakes from the top of the fridge. “Okay, I’ll make a pot.”
    Rosa nurses her cup of coffee and I sit down
across from her with my bowl of cereal. A lawnmower buzzes and I
catch a glimpse of my neighbor riding around his yard. I can
practically smell the musty fresh cut grass from where I’m sitting
and my heart feels heavy.
    Rosa cuts into my thoughts. “Has he
called?”
    I stir my cereal. “No.”
    I wish it wasn’t sunny outside because
there’s a thunderstorm going on inside of me.
    She takes a sip from the number one mom mug I
gave her and I lift my head. “How are you feeling? Are you
okay?”
    “I feel destroyed and I’m not okay, but I’m
sure I will be eventually.” The problem is I don’t know when that
will be.
    Rosa sets her cup down and squeezes my hand.
“If you need me to stay for the next week, I will.”
    I smile. “Thanks.”
    She lets go of my hand. “But, I’m going to
teach you how to make a decent cup of coffee. This tastes like
liquid tree bark.”
    I laugh. “Then why are you drinking it?”
    She shrugs and crooks me a smile. “I figure
you’re have a hard enough time, why make it worse.”
    ****
    An hour later, I stand with Rosa at the front
door. She props the screen door open with her foot. “Are you sure
you don’t want to do something fun today? A random adventure might
take your mind off of things.”
    “I’ll consider it, but I really think I just
need some time alone.”
    She tosses her purse over her shoulder.
“Well, if you need me you know how to get ahold of me.”
    “I’ll text you later anyway.”
    She points her finger at me. “You better.
I’ll worry if you don’t.”
    Rosa walks out the door and I stand on my
porch, watching as she treks down my driveway to the booger.
“Later!” I call.
    My gaze shifts to the oak tree in front of
house, yellow and orange spots are forming on the jungle green
leaves. The dulling colors blind me and a hollowed out hole in the
trunk reminds me of how empty I feel inside. I’m a bottomless pit
of despair.
    After a minute I walk back inside and into
the kitchen. I grab my empty cereal bowl and Rosa’s empty coffee
cup. Empty. Empty. Empty. Why does everything have to remind
me of how I feel?
    At the sink, I rinse out my bowl and her
coffee cup. Then the doorbell chimes ringing out like church bells
on Sunday. I glance at the clock. Rosa must have forgotten
something. She’s only been gone for two minutes.
    I jog down the hall. “Coming!”
    Sometimes I swear Rosa has dementia. She’s
always forgetting stuff—always in a rush. I yank the door open and
shake my head. “What did you forget, now?”
    As I turn my head my breathing stops. My
lungs constrict fighting to release the oxygen. “Henry,” I gasp. My
stomach is a hive of bumblebees, buzzing and flitting their
translucent wings. Swarms of yellow and black making honey. “What
are you doing here?”
    Tears glisten in his eyes. “I need you,” he
tells me.
    For a moment time stops. I’m fighting for
control between my head and my heart. My head tells me he’s hurt me
enough. It tells me not to fall prey to whatever he has up his
sleeve. A spider, always managing to lure back into his web of
lies, but my heart, my hearts swells and pounds so loud I can feel
it my ears. The sight of his tears thrust into me like a spear
through the side.
    He wipes his eyes. “Can I come in?”
    I look over my shoulder into my empty
hallway. No mom. No Rosa. And there is no chance I’ll be able to
resist him If I do let him in. “No,” I say and step onto my porch,
closing the door behind me. “What do you