It's Been a While

“Word going around is that you’re hooking up with that hockey player,” Jeremy makes himself comfortable, taking a seat at the dining room table.

Leila blinks, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “Not hardly.”

“That’s not what I hear,” he shakes his head menacingly.

“Maybe you heard wrong.”

“I never hear wrong.” Jeremy smiles, “you know that, Leil. C’mon, who do I look like to you?”

She crosses her arms, “my ex-boyfriend, whom I never actually invited into my home.”

“Ex-fiancé, actually,” he points at her, to emphasize his point. “And if we hadn’t broken up, this house would’ve been mine, too.”

Leila’s eyes narrow, “You would like that wouldn’t you? Having more control over me.”

Jeremy’s eyes slowly narrow.

“That’s something you’ve always just fed off of.”

A smirk pulls at the corners of his lips. “You’re speaking out of anger, right now.”

She shakes her head, “Don’t try and play that game with me.”

His expression stays the same, “Leila… what are you talking about?”

Slowly uncrossing her arms, she shakes her head and points a finger at him. “Stop.”

“Stop, what?”

She shakes her head, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms.

“You can’t get through this by blaming me, Leila.”

Violently shaking her head, Leila glares at the man sitting at her dining room table. “What are you even doing here, Jeremy?!”

Jeremy’s voice is calm. Monotonous, even. “I came here to talk to you.”

Leila shakes her head, pursing her lips. After taking a deep breath, she speaks, “You came here to harass me—”

“That is an extremely bold claim. I would choose your next words very carefully.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” She spits the words out, like venom. She slowly crosses the kitchen. “You think just because you’ve got a degree that helps you prosecute people just like you that you can get away with this behavior—“

He shakes his head, standing up so quickly that his chair bounces off the wall. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Leila.”

“I know exactly what I am talking about, Jeremy.” She uncrosses her arms. “Now, get out.”



The noise that brakes the seemingly endless silence, that had engulfed the house, seems shatteringly loud as it echoes through each room.

Leila drops the bag of thawing peas in the sink, gripping the edge of the sink as her knuckles turn white. “Shit,” her lips do not move as the curse passes them. “Shit.”

Silence engulfs the house again, only to soon be broken by the knocking again.

Scooping the white bag out of the sink, Leila slowly inches through the living area and into the foyer. Her head pounds as the loud volume of the knocks fill her ears.

His silhouette is clear through the lace curtain.

Her large bun pulls on her head slightly as she shakes her head, lifting her backwoods icepack and resting it on the side of her face. Leila’s voice does not sound like Leila’s voice at all as it leaves her cracked lips, “What do you want?”

His knocking ceases immediately. “Leila?”

“What do you want?” She asks again, moving slightly closer toward the door.

Daniel sighs loudly, “I came to check on you because you didn’t answer the door this morning, either.”

“I was asleep,” Leila says, just loudly enough so she thinks he can hear her.

“I wanted to take you out to breakfast.”

Her stomach sinks and she winces as she swallows heavily.

“I’ll settle for an early dinner, though.” He visibly shrugs, “If you will.”

She shakes her head, “I can’t, Daniel. Not tonight.”

“You won’t even open the door and reject me?” He chuckles.

Leila blinks her left eye, attempting to stop the tears. “Would you hate me if I didn’t?”

“I’d be hurt, but I wouldn’t hate you.”

Sniffling loudly, Leila nods.

“Would you let me in if I brought you dinner?”

She shrugs, “You don’t have to do that, Daniel.”

“You in the mood for Chinese?”

“Daniel,” she shakes her head, keeping the peas pressed to the side of her face.

“Please?”