I returned to my car and followed her back to her place, which was clear on the other side of town.When we arrived, Abby warmly welcomed me into her place, which she rented from her brother’s in-laws. It was a quaint two-bedroom house. It was nothing special but perfect for a bachelor or bachelorette. She showed me to the living space and told me to sit on the couch. Abby brought over two beers, and we sat together on the couch, but not too close. We chatted for around 45 minutes, which consisted of sports, some politics, and of course, work gossip – including the whole spaghetti sauce incident which had occurred just a week prior.Abby and I hadn’t worked a lot together in the past, despite her working there for nearly two years. That was because our school schedules didn’t align for us to work together regularly. Plus, on Saturday’s instead of cashiering, she often helped the floral department. That further limited our work interactions. It was nice to catch up.We had each had two. It was all she could do not to burst into tears. Marissa put Alan's shirt in the hamper in his bathroom and found a pair of shorts and a blouse in her suitcase. She looked around to make sure she wasn't forgetting anything and then wheeled her things out to the kitchen.Hunting through the fridge and his pantry, Marissa made herself a small breakfast and sat at the table to await Alan's return.All the while, all her insecurities re-surfaced. Old habits die hard.She couldn't believe that Alan would just leave her like that. Didn't he want her? He said he did. Was he lying? Or was he just now coming to his senses? After all, they had a romantic week away, and now that they were back in their regular worlds, maybe things weren't so Pollyannaish after all.Most of her breakfast remained uneaten when Marissa heard the garage door open and Alan's car pulled in. She looked over at the stove. It was close to ten o'clock. Contractually, their relationship would end once he paid her.What am I.
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