WEEK 69: Because you need to wear pants

Prompted by: Amanda

The crazy author says: Methinks this storyline is coming to an end soon. Maybe. Probably.

It’s Friday evening and I’m at the theatre.

Alone.

I almost didn’t go because you need to wear pants in public and I wasn’t in the mood for pants. I was in the mood for undies and bunny slippers. Or bare feet and a hot bath. Plus, the mini bar in my hotel room has a mutant slice of chocolate cake stashed at the very back corner. That would’ve been an added bonus to staying in.

I didn’t though. Instead, I went on our weekly date night by myself. Same as I’ve done for the past eight weeks.

Guess I’m still feeling a little nostalgic.

Now the credits are starting to roll and I’m feeling a lot annoyed. I’ve wasted the price tag of a perfectly good movie ticket. I can’t recall shit except for when the couple kissed. I remember that scene.

It made me gag and tear up simultaneously.

Why the hell are people making out in an action thriller anyway? Don’t they have better things to do than suck face? Like, I don’t know, thwart a villainous plan and save the world from mass destruction?

Standing, I stuff one last handful of popcorn in my mouth and begin to make my exit. I ignore the mutters and cursing as I shuffle past the row of knees.

Yeah, I realize I could wait a minute.

But I don’t want to.

I realize I’m being rude as fuck.

But I don’t care.

Some random chick yelps and gives me a well-deserved push for crushing her toes.

Stumbling into the aisle, I turn…

And freeze.

I can’t believe it.

Trace is standing at the top of the stairs, hands jammed in his pockets. He’s nothing more than a silhouette shrouded in shadows, and yet I have zero doubt.

I know it’s him.

I know him in the dark.

I would know him with my eyes closed.

The door opens, casting a soft glow of light across his features. His jaw is tense, his expression borderline angry.

Beneath the anger, there’s pain.

I caused that. I did the one thing I promised to never do. I went off the grid. Disappeared completely from his radar.

No internet. No phone. No means of contact.

Taking a deep breath, I slowly climb the steps.

Ten.

Five.

Three. Two. One.

Until I’m within reach.

He doesn’t move.

I don’t either.

“Gia,” is all he says.