Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Thank you for the job. I’ve really enjoyed working for you and forming such a close friendship. I’ll think of you often and pray for a miraculous recovery. ~Em
P.S. I’ve been living out of my car for three months. Don’t feel bad for me, it’s only going to make me stronger one day. I. Am. Courageous!
“Because?” With an unblinking gaze, Zach steadies the ladder in his hands and waits for my response.
The thing is … I’m not ready to quit Zach and Suzie. I’m also not ready to have them take pity on me. It’s embarrassing. I don’t know how I got here; I just know that it sucks.
“Because I haven’t had him very long, and he doesn’t do well at home by himself. So I put him in the shed where I can check in on him every hour or so.”
Lies are nothing more than wishful versions of the truth. I think optimists, like myself, probably tell the most lies. The truth is usually less than appealing and far from optimistic.
Zach inspects me, my reaction to my own lie. My chin juts out and up, shoulders back.
“And you were cleaning the shower without any clothes on because?”
“Don’t be an asshole.” It’s out. I just said that to my boss.
Zach chuckles. “I’m sorry … how is asking a logical question suddenly being an asshole?”
I don’t enjoy lying to Zach or anyone for that matter. People who lie, cheat, and steal don’t always do it because they’re bad people. Sometimes they do it because they’re desperate. And if he’s never truly been this desperate, then it’s easy for him to judge those of us who are just trying to survive.
So I lie.
“Maybe something personal happened to me. Maybe I wet my pants or started my period and things got … messy.” Where the hell am I going with this? “Must you call me out on it? Do you really need to know why?”
Zach's eyebrows lift while his lips part, as they should because I could have suggested I spilled coffee on myself or some cleaning solution that made my skin itch. Who jumps straight to wetting herself or a heavy menstrual cycle?
I roll my eyes to make sure he knows I’m kidding about the gross part. “The showers at my gym were unavailable again, so I didn’t have time to run home and shower without being late. I chose to be on time … to be here when Suzie woke up and forgo my shower until she took her morning nap. And I was cleaning the shower too, not just myself. For the record, I’m dropping my membership to that gym since their shower availability is so unpredictable. There. Are you happy now?”
The unfortunate thing about lying is that it just gets easier and easier to do. I should write fiction—I have so many made up versions of life in my head.
Hopes.
Fears.
Dreams.
It’s disturbing how easily people can shape the world in their heads and give it a false reality with empty words. It’s even more disturbing how I can treat my employer like he’s the one at fault here.
When Zach doesn’t respond, I force myself to look him in the eye. And I swear … I really swear he sees right through me. Every single hope, dream, fear, and lie. In this moment, something shifts. I don’t know what, but something. And that something tells me I’ll reflect back on this moment in the future.
He’s not my husband.
Not my lover.
I’m not even sure he’s my friend.
He’s a trespasser into my … well, I don’t know yet.
“Okay.”
My eyes narrow. “Okay? Okay what?”
“Okay. I understand now. The shower. The cat. Its name is a little weird, but it’s your cat not mine.”
“That’s it? Just … okay? I’m not fired?”
“No, Emersyn.” He chuckles, heading back into the house. “I’m not the asshole you think I am. Just lock the bathroom door if you ever clean in your birthday suit again, and I’ll make sure to open the shed door slowly next time.”
It’s not pity—at least I don’t think anyway. He doesn’t know about my living situation or my massive piles of debt. It can’t be pity. Well, it could be pity. I must have looked quite pitiful running outside with nothing but a towel wrapped around me, screaming, “HARRY PAWTER!”
Zach disappears, probably snuggling in bed with Suzie, so I finish my cleaning duties in record time and sneak out before I have to face him again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Zach
On Saturday, Michelle comes over to stay with Suzanne while I take a much-needed run. As I round the corner at the park, I see a familiar car with its windows partially rolled down. It’s Emersyn. She’s asleep with the seat reclined, head tilted to the side, and a string of drool down the side of her face.
“Emersyn?”
Her body twitches like she’s having trouble waking from a dream. Did she have a seizure?