Three Strikes

I frowned as my Blackberry chimed yet another call. I massaged my temples and sank on the plump cushions on the sofa. To my right, Joe sat fiddling with his cell phone. "That was head of HW Records. They can't cancel the event. They've done too much already."

Groaning, I leant back into the soft pillows. "This is so not good." I commented lowly. "Why didn't they ask us for permission?"

"Dad gave it the go ahead. Mom was so happy she wanted to do everything now." Joe answered, pocketing his cell phone. He turned to me and I gave him a half smile. He left his hair curly today and it bounced on his shoulders. His stubble was a little more prominent. He'd been staying at my apartment for four days and I'd yet to see him clean shaven. His answer didn't satisfy me and I sighed in annoyance. I wanted to say that it was all Joe's fault (which I knew deep down it was) but he seemed just as stressed. He asked about my schedule for the following week and I told him about my work hours and the upcoming show.

"They're expecting me to go to this thing all fancy, I mean, it's in our honour. But I've so much to do with the show and I don't know if I'll have time." I told him honestly, picking at threads on my old, paint splattered top.

"My parents are loving this." Joe told me. "Us, I mean."

"Yeah. My Mom about had a heart attack. She thought I was still seeing Adam." I said bitterly. "When I called her to say I had news she thought I was pregnant."

Joe scoffed. "You're not are you?"

I threw a cushion at him. "Still pure," I said, holding up my ring. "Thank you very much."

He stared at my hand in silence. "You know you can take that off right? Now that we're engaged."

"Joe, as far as I'm concerned. This is all false. I won't take the ring off just because you bought me a shiny ring that probably cost a million bucks, okay? I just... it wouldn't feel right. And don't question my promises to God," I said coldly, standing up. Joe had struck a nerve. It was the first little fight we'd had so far. He stared at me, knowing not to push it.

"I didn't mean it like that, I was just jo-"

"Joking, yeah, I get it." I snapped, grabbing our empty mugs and throwing them in the dishwasher. "You're not on camera now Joe. You can cut the crap, okay? Be serious."

"I am being serious," Joe shouted to my retreating back. "And it's not an act."

I scoffed. "Oh, of course not."

"Would you shut up?" Joe asked, angrily. "What about the front you put on at work, Rose? Yeah, I saw it." Joe pointed out to me. "How you take all their shit without a single retaliation. Yet you clench your fists and just let them tear you down. So tell me who's the one putting on a front?"

I stomped into my bedroom, furious. "I am so glad this marriage isn't real!" I shouted, slamming the door.

"You're not the only one!" Joe yelled.

Hot-headedly I picked up the nearest object and threw it at the door before sinking onto my bed, tears of anger running down my cheeks. I swallowed and looked at the object I'd thrown - a snow globe that Adam had bought me for Christmas. Shakily, I walked over and made to pick up the broken pieces of glass when the door opened. Joe stood over me, breathing heavily. I knew he was trying to calm down and so far, it wasn't working. He looked livid. He bent down and began picking up the pieces.

"Sorry," I mumbled as I brushed his fingers.

"You're bleeding." He said, noticing where I'd just managed to cut my fingers on the glass. I'd sliced the skin open and the blood was running freely. I shrugged and threw the glass in the bin. "I'll vacuum." Joe offered and I nodded, too tired and angry to argue.

"Whatever."

The buzzer to the apartment door buzzed and, heaving a sigh, I left the room with Joe who'd gone to grab the hoover. Opening the door, my eyes widened in surprise and slight fear. Joe watched as my back straightened and I gripped the door tightly.

"Adam," I said to the stranger. "What are you doing here?"