Only when she was at the door did she turn back and say, “Stay here and think about what you’ve done. Tomorrow you’re coming with me to pick out the flowers for the wedding party. And stop with these cheap tricks, like spying on me. It’s pathetic.”
Then she was gone.
Her words buzzed in my ears long after the door shut.
Pathetic.
She was right.
But why had it taken me so long to see?
It seemed my heart had been blind for years.
The next day, we drove to the florist, and the air inside the car felt suffocating.
So at a red light, I put on my headphones and turned my face toward the window.
Meanwhile, Cassandra pulled out a big powder puff, reapplying her makeup nonstop.
“Those apartments on the south side are pretty nice. It's a good location and the transportation is convenient,” she suddenly started and sneaked a glance at me, waiting for a response.
But I said nothing.
Thinking I might not have heard her, she cleared her throat and raised her voice. “They say it’s a new development, better environment. Lots of young couples love renting there. Why don’t we check it out?”
Still, I didn’t even open my eyes, just let out a low grunt through my nose.