King of Nothing by Paula Dombrowiak

Author:Paula Dombrowiak [Dombrowiak, Paula]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Paula Dombrowiak

13

Georgetown T-Shirt

Darren

The couch in the formal living room is the only place that doesn’t bring up memories, and that’s probably because we never used it. Furniture from the seventeenth century isn’t meant to be very comfortable; it’s meant to look pretentiously expensive. I’ve been sitting here for the better part of the evening, unable to sleep, and now that the sun is starting to come up, the drink in my hand seems less desirable. If I’m being completely honest, it was less desirable when the sun went down.

When the doorbell rings, I’m startled out of my thoughts. Rising from the couch, I leave my drink on the antique table and walk down the hall to the foyer. On either side of the double doors are frosted glass panels, and I can see the outline of someone—someone familiar—which is the only reason I open the door.

Alistair barges in. “Dare,” he says, looking at me. “Where have you been? I’ve called you about a hundred times.”

Instead of going back into the living room, I walk down the hall towards the kitchen, Alistair following me like an angry puppy.

“I turned my phone off.”

“You didn’t come home. I was worried,” he says a little sheepishly.

“Well, if you suspected I was cheating on you, don’t worry,” I pause, “I was.” I smirk to avoid what we both know is a touchy subject.

We weren’t each others’ keepers, that’s for sure. Disappearing for some time was the norm for both of us, although these circumstances are different, and we both know it.

“Very funny. But while you were on the private jet, I was flying commercial,” he argues.

“What a travesty, having to fly first class. I’m so sorry,” I say sarcastically, turning towards the refrigerator to grab some leftovers when the smell of coffee distracts me. It’s not just any coffee, it’s the expensive kind my mother loves. Lottie doesn’t start back until Monday, so it wasn’t her. The only other person who could have used the espresso machine was Evangeline and—I look over at the counter—she didn’t leave me a cup.

Fuck.

I slam the refrigerator door closed and find Alistair leaning against the island staring at me. “You didn’t happen to bring coffee, did you?” I ask.

Alistair smacks me in the head. “You know I don’t drink coffee.”

I slump into the barstool and rub my head while glaring at him. “You went to that trendy shop around the corner from our apartment like every day for weeks.”

“I was trying to get into the barista's pants, and once I did,” he shrugs, “well, there was no more reason to go back.”

“You are a debased human being,” I accuse him, leaning my forehead against my palm.

Alistair clears his throat. “I’m not the one who got a girl fired so she would marry you,” he says in an accusatory tone.

I stand up, pushing the chair back roughly. “Fuck off, Alistair,” I spit, about to walk away when I see Evangeline standing in the doorway of the kitchen. She’s wearing my Georgetown t-shirt, and fuck if I don’t like the way it looks on her.

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