Since When Did Lying Become The Norm In Relationships?
Day 132 of The Andie Chronicles
Fuck flat packs.
Like seriously, what a waste of time.
And you don’t overly feel accomplished when the piece of furniture comes to fruition.
If you’re anything like me, you end up with red fingers, a slightly crooked piece of furniture, and regret for having ever gone down the flat pack route.
But I wasn’t in the position to buy expertly constructed and delivered furnishings. No, I needed a small, cheap and easy-to-put-together desk to wedge into the corner of my bedroom. I needed something James wouldn’t see. Or pay too much attention to.
James sat at our dining room table. It was clear, free of any evidence indicating it was once a desk, now with excessive room to dine on it.
He was eating breakfast, dressed in a Versace suit I recognised from the city store window, passing the store every day to and from the train station.
It was the most handsome I had ever seen my best friend. He looked confident and suave and important like he had an undeniable purpose.
“Wow, you look amazing,” I said, powerless to contain my adoration.
“Thanks, babe. I tried.”
“You’re not trying, you’re succeeding. What’s the occasion? Please tell me you’re not going to work.”
I was hoping for a reprieve, where I didn’t need to go to work and pretend I was excited about the “new” Highway. One day off from my pretending, I begged.
“No, I’m headed to races.” James looked up from his plate of crusts and stared at me.
“I guess you don’t want me to lie to you, right?”
The fact we were having this conversation, the fact he had to ask, concerned me. Shouldn’t truth be the standard in a relationship?
“I would prefer you didn’t.”
“I’m joining Douglas in the members.” Of course you are, I thought. You know how much it hurts me yet you continue to butter up the person I’m convinced has all the wrong intentions. Wasn’t my break-up a warning?
“Well, have fun. Bring home a win!”
I waltzed passed him and into the kitchen, picked up my keys and moved towards the front door. “I’m off to the shops. See you later.”
The tears welled as I closed the front door behind me. I pushed them away before the cool air froze them to my cheek.
When I returned from Ikea, I frantically put the desk together and then shoved a bunch of clothes on top of it. It wasn’t that James came into my room all that often, but I didn’t want to take any risks.
I stared at the desk in awe. It wasn’t my dining room table, but it was a small space for me to work on getting my business back.
Progress, I thought.
Underneath the clothes, I hid my notebook with my contract with Douglas tucked neatly inside. I found it late last night and began reading it when it was too late to concentrate.
Nothing made sense to me. I understood the words, but I didn’t appreciate the implications. I needed a legal mind to help me read between the lines.
Doing this alone, well, I was out of my depth, it would seem.
I clutched my phone, opened it, and found Taylor’s number. I went to call him and then retreated. Probably best not to ask him, I mused.
You’re reading The Andie Chronicles, the 2023 romance-fiction series from the 1 Lovelock Drive (1LD) universe.
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