Chapter Five
Gigi
A s I walk through the door of our apartment, I send Marcus a quick text to let him know I’m home and drop my purse on the counter. The apartment is cloaked in darkness, adding to the heavy silence that hangs in the air. I slip off my shoes and head to the bedroom, where I find Lewis already asleep, his form barely visible under the covers.
I undress down to my underwear and quietly slide into bed, the cool sheets wrapping around me. I inch closer to Lewis, resting my head gently on his chest, listening to the faint rhythm of his breathing. He stirs, just enough to acknowledge my presence.
“Hey,” he mumbles softly.
“Hi,” I whisper back.
I let my hand trail along his stomach, brushing against his skin, then begin to slip it under the waistband of his boxers, hoping that some kind of physical connection might bridge the emotional distance between us. Maybe this would help me feel close to him again.
“G, I’m trying to sleep,” he says, his voice low but firm.
He rolls over, his movement pushing my hand away, leaving me feeling rejected. My chest tightens as the weight of the moment sinks in, and I fight back the sting of tears. I shift back to my side of the bed, curling up against the emptiness.
Why did I even bother?
When I wake up, Lewis is already out of bed, so I shower and get ready for work. When I walk out to the kitchen, I find him sitting at the dining table, hunched over his laptop.
“Good morning, babe.” I smile at him as I grab a mug from the cabinet and pour myself a cup of coffee.
Lewis looks up and smiles. “Good morning. You’re in better shape than I thought you would be this morning. You smelled like alcohol last night.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. Sox lost the game, so I had to drown my sorrows.”
“You didn’t drive, did you?”
“Hell no, Marcus is bringing my car in a bit.”
“Good.”
I sit down in the chair next to him at the table. “I was thinking, the girls at work were talking about doing a happy hour next week. You should come.”
“Do I have to?”
I give him a playful smile, attempting to keep it light so I can get a yes out of him. “You never have to do anything, but it would mean a lot to me.”
He huffs. “Okay. I’ll go for an hour. Just send me a calendar invite.”
A freaking calendar invite to attend a happy hour with his girlfriend. Unreal. I keep my thoughts to myself as I lean over and kiss his cheek. “Will do. Thank you for saying yes.”
“Welcome.”
My phone dings with a text from Marcus that he’s on the way with my car. I rush to put together my lunch. Once I have everything packed for the day, I go back to Lewis at the table. I walk to the side of the chair he’s in and straddle his lap, putting myself between him and his laptop. I feel relief when he doesn’t protest. I place kisses along his jaw and neck, heat pooling between my thighs as he moans. It feels good to get a reaction from him in this moment after the rejection I felt last night.
“I should be done with work by six. I would very much like to continue this when I get home.”
He brings a hand to my cheek and guides my lips to his. His kiss is deep and reminiscent of the ones we shared when we first started dating. I miss kisses like this, so I sink into it, my breaths coming sharp and heavy.
My phone vibrates on the table, breaking the moment. I pull back, my hand on his jaw.
“That’s probably Marcus.”
“I’ll see you tonight.”
I nod and leave his lap, grab my bags, and walk to the door.
That night, when I got home, the apartment was empty and there was a note on the counter from Lewis saying he went to a friend’s and not to wait up for him. I crumbled up the note, but before I threw it in the trash, I thought better of it.
Instead, I turned on the fan above the stove, pulled one of Lewis’ stupid fancy pots from the cabinet, found the lighter in our kitchen drawer and lit the fucking note on fire, dropping it in the pot and watched it burn.