I can’t go inside. Andrea parked in front of her friend’s home, watching the silhouettes move behind the curtains.
Kent moved out a week ago. She twisted the gold band on her finger nervously. There was nothing shameful about being single. Nothing at all. She just couldn’t handle the questions, the pity in everyone’s eyes. Not today.
The curtains moved. She’d been seen. She had to get out of the car.
Kent answered the door. “We’ve been waiting for you,” he said, extending his arms. She hugged him tightly, thankful, at least, for his friendship.
The Moral Mondays prompt this week is THERE IS NO “I” IN TEAM.
They kissed. Applause. I saw red.
You push away. I come closer.
Your kiss is poison. I’m falling.
Love me. Lie to me. Repeat.
“Could you do me a favor and tell that guy in the blue shirt at the table by the window over there that I couldn’t make it for dinner tonight?”
“Tell ’em yourself,” the woman scoffed before storming away.
Nearly knocked over by the woman’s abruptness, she finally realized how ridiculous she must look as a 30-year-old woman, too afraid to approach her own boyfriend and tell him the truth. She’d been putting off breaking up with him for weeks.
She crossed the room, ignoring his bright smile when his eyes held hers, folding her hands in a business-like manner as she sat. “We need to talk.”
The six sentence story prompt this week is favor.
“The boys miss you so much,” I say, twisting the edge of my shirt sleeve.
“I miss them too,” he says as he returns to the table holding two steaming cups of coffee. My palms are warm and damp. My arms shiver. No turning back now. I have to make this right. I look at the man sitting across for me and can’t imagine today how in love I was with him a few short years ago. That love had quickly turned to a consuming hatred during out contentious divorce. Now all that was left was fear.
“I realize, that I was wrong…so wrong…to keep you from them…”
“The things you said about me to the judge…”
“I know! I was awful. There’s no excuse. I know you would never lay a finger on either of the boys. You’re a wonderful father. They cry for you every night, you know. It breaks my heart.” I dab at my eyes with a napkin as my voice breaks. It was the boys that had convinced me to come today, to grovel to my ex, to beg his forgiveness. I couldn’t stand it any longer, watching them suffer, wondering if their father had abandoned them. I never thought the judge would order him to stay away from the boys. I thought he’d at least get supervised visitation. All I wanted was to hurt him a little. Or a lot. The same way he’d hurt me. “I want you to be a part of their lives. I’m so sorry, for everything.”
He says nothing as he watches me take a long sip of my coffee. I feel it immediately. It all slipping away. I stand and try and get to the door, but my legs give way underneath me. I crumple to the floor, struggling to take a breath.
“I’m sorry too,” he says as he stands over me, watching.
Inspired by last week’s Story A Day prompt – Regret.
He was the first guy Lily’d looked at in a long time and thought, maybe. Sam took her hand as they meandered down the trail and silently took in the view – the tourists, the water, the imposing medieval castle looming ahead. They were going to spend the day sight-seeing in an unfamiliar city, her idea of the perfect date, something she’d revealed to him shortly after they met.
A woman approached them, glaring.
“What are you…?”
Sam cut the woman off in mid-sentence, taking her arm roughly and leading her away. They spoke in whispers, both gesturing widely. Georgia finally turned and left in tears, giving Lily a final death glare before departing.
Sam looked sheepish when he returned to her. “Lily, I…”
“I’m so excited about touring the castle. The history behind it is so romantic…”
Sam looked confused, but Lily kept babbling on and on, afraid for him to speak. She wanted to hold on to maybe a little while longer.
For Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers