The Recovering Pessimist

Helping pessimists see the bright side of life without losing their "half empty" roots.

#XD30-Chapter 14-Well Played

Jun
14

The door slams. Yelena left. I walk out of the den and into the living room. Susan is in the middle of the room, stifling laughter.

“End scene!” I yell while curtsying.

Susan grabs my hand and spins me around.

“I can’t believe we pulled that off,” she loudly whispers, face red from laughter.

I start twirling my hair around my fingers a la Yelena.

“I will have your preggo ass locked up!”

Susan hollers, spinning onto the couch.

It sucks having to terminate our friendship with Yelena this way. It took a while to realize that Yelena’s only loyal to herself. Friendships are a matter of convenience. She could give a rat’s ass less if she burns a bridge. It feels good to beat someone at their own game, especially when they don’t know that they’re playing.

“When are you going to send this email to Nick?”

Susan takes her phone out of her back pocket. No matter where she is, that electronic umbilical cord is never too far away.

“Right now,” she declares, fingers steady typing. “We don’t need to wait any longer.”

Hunger pangs kick in. I only ate a bagel today. Guess adrenaline was masking the pangs.

“Aren’t you hungry love?” I ask, rubbing Susan’s belly.

Looking up from her phone, Susan raises her eyebrow.

“Nom, nom, nom!!” she yells, pretending to put food in her mouth.

I order Thai and hop in the shower. As soon as I turn off the water, Susan knocks on the door.

“Come read the email before I send it.”

I pause. Feeling the beginnings of anxiety, I take a deep breath.

“Sure love.”

Susan passes the phone to me. Wiping water out of my eyes, I sit on the side of the tub to read.

Nick,

I’m 8 weeks pregnant and keeping the baby. Let me know whether or not
you wish to have an active role in the child’s life and I’ll have my lawyer contact you.
Susan.

“Well played love,” I respond, handing the phone back to her.

“E-mail sent. Now we can enjoy our night.”

I put on PJs while Susan answers the delivery man’s knock on the door. The condo suddenly smells delicious.

“Thai, silk pajamas, and snuggle time!!” I exclaim, dry humping Susan as she grabs plates from the cabinet.

We hunker down on the sofa, browsing through Netflix for a movie to watch. Between eating and the movie, something catches my eye.

The notification light on Susan’s phone is blinking.

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