"Sure. I'll be there in fifteen, tops. I'll call you when I get there." "Got a job?" I asked after he'd hung up. "Yeah. A model showed up for a night shoot so trashed he's worthless." He studied me. "You wanna come?" I stretched my legs out on the couch. "Nope. I'm good right here." "You sure you're okay?" "All I need is mindless entertainment. Just the thought of getting dressed again exhausts me." I'd be happy wearing my flannel pajama bottoms and holey old tank top all weekend. As much as I hurt inside, total comfort outside seemed like a necessity. "Don't worry about me. I know I've been a mess lately, but I'll get it together. Go on and enjoy yourself." After Cary rushed out, I paused the movie and went to the kitchen for some wine. I stopped by the breakfast bar, my fingertips gliding over the roses Gideon had sent me the previous weekend. Petals fell to the countertop like tears
traces of lasagna. But the hot water of the shower couldn't be rushed. It unknotted the muscles in my back, calmed my pulse. The familiar smell of my shampoo made me feel like I might be the same person I had been this morning. I tried not to think of Edward, sitting in my room, waiting, because then I had to start all over with the calming process. Finally, I couldn't delay anymore. I shut off the water, toweling hastily, rushing again. I pulled on my holey t-shirt and gray sweatpants. Too late to regret not packing the Victoria's Secret silk pajamas my mother got me two birthdays ago, which still had the tags on them in a drawer somewhere back home. I rubbed the towel through my hair again, and then yanked the brush through it quickly. I threw the towel in the hamper, flung my brush and toothpaste into my bag. Then I dashed down the stairs so Charlie could see that I was in my pajamas, with wet hair. "'Night, Dad." "'Night, Bella
annaabi.ee 
