The Break(11)

Sean ignores that. “Harrison is a pretty major player,” he says.

At first I think he means Harrison’s a major player with women, which isn’t really true. Harrison is an old-school romantic, actually, and falls way too hard.

“His client list is really impressive,” says Sean, which makes me realize he means Harrison is a major player in the entertainment world, which is true. It makes me wonder what Sean thinks of all of us adults; maybe he mistakenly thinks we have it all figured out. “June tells me everything about work,” Sean says. “Even stuff she probably shouldn’t.”

He smirks, and I wonder if he means June told him some intraoffice gossip about Gabe. He holds my gaze far too long, golden eyes hard, reminding me of how I write my killers.

Lila’s already sleeping again as I pat her back, and I realize I can be home in thirty minutes if I power walk, and then I can nurse her on the other side.

I just need to get out of this apartment.



Sean watches me as my eyes search the apartment for a clock, and when I see an old black digital one with bright red numbers and a thin layer of dust on top, he says, “That clock’s five minutes fast.” He grimaces, like something hurts. “You know June, she’s always late.”

“Just by five minutes,” I say about June, and then I try to smile because it came out like I was trying to defend her.

“And that’s why I set the clock like that,” Sean snaps. “To help her.” It’s weird, because obviously June has a phone and can see what time it really is.

“I’m always helping her,” Sean adds, like an afterthought.

I’ve got Lila up on my shoulder, burping her. I can feel her diaper full through her pajamas, but I don’t want to change her in front of Sean—I just want out. “I should go,” I say. “It’s getting late, you must have plans.”

“You can stay,” Sean says. His smirk is gone now, his face impassive.

“No, it’s all right,” I say, standing with Lila. I gather the baby carrier up around my shoulders and start to slip her inside.

“Let me help you,” he says, coming toward us. I don’t want him standing so close, but he’s right there, touching the straps of the carrier. I know he’s trying to help, but I’m so anxious my fingers start to tremble as I try to snap us in. I haven’t had a man this close to me besides Gabe and my OB in a very long time. “A woman I used to work for had one of these carriers,” he’s saying, his hands right on the hip straps. “Trust me, you’re wearing it too low. It’ll give you back pain if you don’t fix it.” He adjusts the hip straps and then hoists the shoulder straps back and tightens them so Lila is riding higher. “It should be like this,” he says. I’m so surprised by how much more comfortable it is that I stop feeling weird about what he’s doing. “Safer for the baby, too,” he says. “You really need to watch the instructional videos on these things,” he says, like he’s the smartest and I’m not. And I suddenly don’t care. It feels so much better not to have the strap pressing into my hip.

“Thanks, Sean,” I say.



He adjusts one final strap. “Just trying to be helpful,” he says.

“You’re definitely that,” I say as he steps back and admires his work on the carrier. I wonder if he’s really in love with June, and what it must feel like to live with someone who doesn’t love you back. I wonder how mad it makes him.

Ding.

I hear the same sound again, the one I heard when the microwave was going. An icy feeling passes over my skin when I realize it was more of a chime sound, like a text coming through. My eyes sweep the apartment. Sean’s phone is still on the coffee table, but this sound came from one of the bedrooms.

I pretend not to notice the sound, and Sean does the same; he just smiles at me. And I know I shouldn’t do what I’m about to—

“Can I use your bathroom?” I ask, my eyes holding his.

“Yeah,” he says. He clears his throat. “Of course.”

I edge a little closer toward one of the bedroom doors, clearly moving in the wrong direction. Sean doesn’t stop me—he just eyes me like I’m a criminal, like I might steal something. I take a couple steps until I’m at the makeshift wall, guessing that this room would be June’s. Sean still doesn’t say anything. I break his stare, and then I carefully open the bedroom door.

“That’s June’s room,” Sean says behind me. There’s satisfaction in his voice, almost as if he wanted me to open the door. I can feel him inches behind me now, but I don’t turn. My heart pounds as my eyes adjust to the dark of June’s room. It’s bare bones and immaculate. There’s a small dresser in the corner with a jewelry box and framed photos on top, and a mattress on the floor that makes me feel inexplicably embarrassed. A phone sits on the mattress, glowing with my texts and a few others.

“That’s not the bathroom, obviously,” Sean says.

“I’m sorry,” I say, and I mean it. I turn around to face him, deciding to not even pretend. I need to get my baby out of here—I’ve pushed this far enough. “I-I’m really sorry,” I stammer, making like I want to leave. He blocks me with a box step, his eyes narrowing. How foolish could I have been to do something like that with Lila here? “I shouldn’t have done that,” I try to say calmly, meaning it for more than one reason. “I heard the phone, and I’m just really eager to see June. To apologize.”