More Than Sorry

2: She Escapes the Apartment

EDEN

I grit my teeth, hands shaking as I fumble at the front door. Why are keys impossible to use when you're in a rush? On my third go, I finally shove the hunk of silver in the lock, turn it, and push my way inside my apartment.

No, not my apartment. Zach's apartment.

I'm outta here. Bye, Felicia.

I flick on the lights and charge down the hall, nearly tripping over the cardboard boxes stacked by the wall. Zach's a neat freak—he's been nagging me for weeks to pack my shit away. Meh. It's Future Eden's problem to worry about where the mismatched Tupperware or embarrassing Christmas sweaters are hiding. I get so little downtime between the salon and taking care of Zach. Free time is for relaxing, not unpacking. And right now, I'm hella glad I didn't get around to it because it will make getting out of here so much easier.

I flick up my phone to check the time. It's only ten P.M. Knowing Zach, he won't stumble through the door until well after midnight.

I'll be gone by then.

The gray comforter on the bed is barely visible under bags of half-filled clothes, and I'm throwing toiletries in an old red duffle when someone shuffles into the room behind me. My head snaps around, preparing for all-out war if it's Zach. But the curses waiting to fly out my mouth will have to wait. It's not him.

It's Andie.

She scrubs a hand through her black pixie cut, yawning as she leans against the doorway. I get an eye full of her red crop top and the tattoos decorating her arms because she's only wearing a white tank with her sweatpants. I nearly drop dead from shock when I see the flip-flops. This woman is never seen looking anything other than tomboy perfection. She must have jumped out of bed and driven straight here. Now, that's a best friend.

"You left the front door wide open," Andie says.

"I'm kinda in a rush."

"I can see that," she says coolly. "Wanna explain what's going on?"

I charge across the room to the tallboy, rip open the top drawer, and start grabbing out piles of undies and bras. My eyes are daggers on Zach's neatly stacked boxer briefs, and I consider chucking anything to do with his cheating man parts right out the window.

"I'm leaving," I say, 'cause... you know, duh?

"I can see that too."

I stuff the messy pile of underwear into the duffle. "Did you bring your motorbike?"

"Nah, I had a feeling I might need the Pajero," Andie says. "Bet you're glad I didn't get rid of the old beast now. Fuel consumption as much as a small country, but it'll haul all of your shit to my place, no problemo."

"Good."

"So, what did the nerd do? Weren't you going to surprise him with dinner from that Spanish place all the hipsters drool over? Did he blow you off again or something? Sure as hell wouldn't be the first time he's let you down."

My laugh is dark. "Oh, there was blowing alright."

Andie's perfectly shaped eyebrow quirks up.

"I went to his office... I saw him..." I look to the ceiling, puffing out a long breath. I keep the tears safely hidden, but I can't stop the memories. That woman's hands all over Zach. Her lips on him. Her hands on his belt. I force down the puke already burning my throat. "He was with... someone."

Andie's eyes go wide, and her chin drops. Yeah, I know that feeling. She's shocked as shit. Before tonight, Zach was the last person I thought would cheat, too.