Well Played (Well Met #2)(26)

Thank God. But he was still typing. I have to get back to work now, but I’m glad your mom is doing all right.

Me too, I texted back. I put my phone in my bag and pushed open the door of the deli. I wasn’t hungry now, but I would be later tonight. And so would my parents. I put in an order for three large sandwiches and a vat of chicken soup that I could pick up on my way home from work. By the time I got back to work for the afternoon, it felt more like a regular workday. I’d see my parents tonight, as I did almost every night, and no one would be hooked up to anything. Everything was back to normal. I was relieved.

But I was frustrated too. My brow furrowed at that realization. And at the realization that those texts with Dex this morning, as innocuous as they were, had been the best part of my day. They’d been a glimpse at another life, and now they were gone, and my regular life faded back to gray. I felt the bars of that golden cage closing in on me. Again.

I had no one to blame but myself. Hadn’t I chosen this cage? Willingly walked into it and locked the door behind me? I didn’t know what it would take to finally break out of it.

But that wasn’t worth thinking about now. Not after a day like this. My parents needed me, so golden cage it was. At least for a while.





Nine




Now that Dex and I had added texting to our communications, our relationship had leveled up. Every notification was a hit of adrenaline to my system. Every ping on my phone felt like a kiss.

As winter melted into spring, I tried telling myself it was no big deal. The relationship was still just words on the screen, no matter the format. It didn’t get me a date on Friday nights, or someone to kiss on Valentine’s Day. So really, how much of an impact were these conversations having on my life?

Those more rational thoughts still didn’t stop me from clinging to my phone like a lifeline, my heart thrilling with every text notification. But it wasn’t a problem. I kept my phone on silent and in my purse while I was at work, because my job was boring enough and the temptation would be too great. Outside work, I was discreet. I didn’t check my phone too much, and hardly anyone noticed.

At least, that’s what I thought.

At the bridal shop, while April and I waited for Emily to try on another dress, I slid my phone out of my backpack, even though it was ten thirty in the morning and I’d already read the late-night email Dex had sent the night before. The nights were for emails—longer and more introspective, sometimes a little sexy—while the daytime was for quick text messages. He hadn’t texted yet today, and while he sometimes checked in with me between shows, the weekends were his busier time, so I usually didn’t hear from him until the evening. Nothing wrong with a quick peek, though, just to make sure . . .

“Okay, that’s it.” April plucked the phone out of my hand.

“Gimme that.” I reached for it, but she leaned back in her chair, stretching her arm as far away from me as possible.

“Nope. This is an intervention.”

I scowled and crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t need an intervention. I need my phone back.” My hands already felt empty, as if I were missing a couple fingers. Tension twitched along the back of my neck. What if there was a text? What if he’d just sent me a text and it was on the screen right now, and I couldn’t see it? I wanted my phone back. I needed my phone back.

Huh. Maybe April had a point.

I huffed out a breath and adjusted the scarf around my ponytail. My hair had turned out weird today. I’d been nervous while I was getting ready, and every section I hit with the curling iron fell at the wrong angle. So I’d caught the whole thing back into a low pony and tied a filmy scarf around it, so it all looked like it had been done on purpose.

The nervous feeling had only increased when we got to the shop. Emily had picked out options, both for her and for us, and we were there to see the finalists for her wedding dress. The shop had hooked us up: we were settled in a private alcove in comfortable chairs, drinking fizzy water with lime slices while Emily fiddled around in the dressing room. Super relaxing. Except I felt like a bundle of live wires. Hence the crazy phone checking. Just knowing that Dex was out there thinking about me made me feel better. More centered.

But he wasn’t going to text me anytime soon. Saturdays were performance days, and I had more important things to think about anyway.

“Fine.” I opened my backpack and held it out to her. “Consider me reformed. No more phone, I promise.” April dropped my phone into my bag, and I cinched it shut.

“Is everything okay?” She peered at me with concern in her eyes.

“I don’t know.” I blew out a breath and looked toward the dressing room. “I haven’t felt good about any of these dresses that Em’s showing us, so I’m a little worried about . . .”

“No, I mean, is everything okay with you?” April tilted her head. “Just . . . you’re checking your phone a lot lately. I’ve noticed it at book club, and just now too. Even back on New Year’s Eve. Is something up? Something with your mom? I know she’s been sick . . .”

Maybe I hadn’t been as discreet as I thought. “No,” I said. “Mom’s fine. Everything’s fine. Just, you know, social media.” I waved a hand in what I hoped was an unconcerned gesture, pasting my bright smile back on my face. “Can’t stop checking my notifications. It’s a sickness.”