(Now) Lauren: Apologies

"Good morning, gorgeous."

"Good morning, Logan," I reply, choosing to ignore the "gorgeous."

"Lunch today?"

"No thanks, I brought my lunch today."  I am seriously kicking myself for what I started here.  I've found that being polite but brief and professional had the best effect.  He probably wouldn't do this again for a couple days, as opposed to being back in an hour if I snapped at him and demanded that he knock it off.

"Your loss," he relies, shrugging and continuing on his way to his cube.  Luckily he leaves me alone for the rest of the day, and the day goes by pretty quickly.

It was my turn to pick the happy hour spot, and I selfishly picked something close to work.  I'm sure I'll be the first one there, but I'm surprised to see Kinsley and Damien there when I get there.  I'd heard from Liv they were back together.  I had tried to call her but she didn't answer or call me back.  I'm a little nervous as I walk over.  "Hey," I say hesitantly.  Kinsley looks up and gives me a tight smile.  Damien stands immediately and asks Kinsley if she wants another drink.  She nods, and he asks if he can get me something.  I try to politely decline, but he insists, so I give him my drink order and he disappears.

Kinsley is watching me with a bored look on her face, and I sit.  "So, I owe you a hell of an apology," I start.  Kinsley is still looking at me dispassionately.  "I don't really think this is the place though.  Can we get dinner tomorrow?"

She considers this for a second, then says, "I'm busy tomorrow.  How about lunch on Saturday?"

I'm relieved she didn't shoot me down, and I quickly agree to lunch on Saturday.  I miss Kinsley and I know I fucked up and even though I hate apologizing, I'm hoping that things can get back to normal soon.  She smiles and I smile back as Damien arrives with a drink for each of us.  I thank him and spend the next 10 minutes until Liv arrives being an awkward third wheel to their conversation.

When Liv arrives, Kinsley informs her that she and Damien want to go camping with the group.  I'm surprised and I can't picture Kinsley camping, but she seems excited. Great, looks like I'm in the only one that doesn't love camping.  Oh well.

Alex arrives shortly after Liv and he brings me a drink.  "Thanks," I say, smiling at him.  He grins back at me and asks about my day, and we quickly fall into conversation with everyone else at the table.  Liv doesn't stay long; apparently she and Brody are going to Brody's cabin for the weekend.  Kendra and Christian never show up, so when Kinsley and Damien leave, it's just me and Alex.

"Hungry?" he asks me.

"Yeah, should we stay and get food here?" I reply.  He agrees and no sooner have we grabbed menus than I hear someone say my name.  I look up and have to stifle a groan.  "Hi, Logan," I say.

"Don't sound so enthusiastic," he replies cheerfully.  He sticks his hand out to Alex and says, "I'm Logan.  You must be Alex.  I have the pleasure of working with your girlfriend."

Alex sizes him up and ignores his outstretched hand in a show of alpha male that I've never seen from him before. "So I've heard," he responds cooly.

Logan keeps his hand outstretched for just long enough to make the entire situation uncomfortable, then sits down in one of the recently vacated chairs.  "Having a couple drinks?" he asks.

"No, we're scrapbooking," I reply sarcastically.  Logan laughs and I can tell Alex is silently seething, even though his facial expression is relatively calm.  "We're actually about to have dinner, so I'll see you at work tomorrow," I say, attempting to get him out of here.

"What are you going to have?" he asks, completely ignoring my not-so-subtle hint.

"We don't know yet, because you came over before we could even look at a menu," I reply.  I'm quickly losing patience with this situation, and Alex looks pissed.

He nods as if I had just actually told him something, then he stands, squeezes my shoulder and runs his hand down my arm, and says, "Well, I'll see you tomorrow."

I shift away from his touch but it's too late.  He walks away and Alex immediately says, "Well, I've lost my appetite.  I think I just want to go."

"Seriously?" I ask.

"Seriously," he responds.

"Are you still going to come over and spend the night?"  That had been our plan before.

"Sure," he replies.  Sure?  Don't sound so excited.

By the time we both get to my house, I'm starving.  I put a frozen pizza into the oven then turn and look at Alex, who has been stomping around, being short with me, and sighing heavily since he got here.  "You're jealous," I guess.  Though it's not much of a guess--I'm reasonably certain.

"Any reasonable person would be," he says defensively.  "I mean, he's a good looking guy that you just happened to flirt with when you weren't happy with our relationship.  And then he comes and joins us, can't take a hint, and touches you?  Yeah, sorry.  I'm not a fan."

"It's not like I invited him," I protest.  "I tried to get him to go sooner."

He sighs.  "I'm not mad at you, I just don't like him."

"If you're not mad at me, maybe you should stop being a dick to me," I snap.  His eyes meet mine and we stare each other down.  He's silent, so I say, "If you don't trust me, tell me so I can figure out how to fix it."

His face softens and he says, "I do trust you, Laur.  It's him that I don't trust."

"That's bullshit," I reply.  He looks surprised.  "It shouldn't matter if you trust him or not.  Regardless of what he does, if you trust me you'll know you have nothing to worry about."  He doesn't respond, and my gaze falls to the floor.  I did this and I shouldn't be mad at him for having a perfectly normal response to the shitty thing I did.  But I'm mad because he made me talk about what was bothering me, and he didn't have enough respect for me to be honest that I damaged his trust.

"Lauren," he starts, but he doesn't say anything else.  I sit and wait, staring at the floor, the wall, the door, anything but him.

When he still doesn't continue, I say softly, "It's okay.  I get it.  I fucked up and there are consequences.  I just wish you would have told me, because I want to fix it.  But you've brought up my past a few times lately, so I'm curious...did you ever trust me?"

"Of course I did," he says immediately, fiercely.  I feel a little better.  "And I still trust you now.  I'm not worried you're out doing stupid shit.  It's just him.  And I didn't even realize it until tonight."

I still can't look at him, and I'm so mad at myself for letting this happen and not just talking to Alex when I wasn't happy.  "Lauren?" Alex asks, sounding suddenly concerned.  "Are you...crying?"

"No," I snap hurriedly, shaking my head.  I stand quickly, brush his hand off my arm, and flee into the kitchen to take the pizza out.  I pull it out, shut the oven, and turn it off.  With both hands on the counter, I drop my head and take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to get it together.  I don't know why I ran away from Alex; I actually really would rather be with him right now.  But in 9 years, he's never seen me cry and I don't know how he'll react to it.  I also am not quite sure why I'm crying, and I know he'll want to know.

I'm not even alone for a full minute when I hear his footsteps follow me into the kitchen.  Alex stops behind me and puts his hands on my shoulders, squeezing gently before sliding them down my arms.  When I don't move away, he steps closer and wraps his arms around my waist.  His lips brush my shoulder before he rests his chin there.  I take another deep, shaky breath, then turn to face him.  He looks at me carefully, then brushes the remaining tears off my cheeks with his thumbs.  I'm about to lose it again, so I bury my face in his chest and let him wrap his arms tightly around me.  One of his hands finds its way into my hair and his fingers rub my scalp gently.

He doesn't say anything for a long time, just holds me and rubs my scalp.  When I'm breathing evenly again, he says, "Lauren, I'm sorry."

"Okay," I mumble, my face still pressed to his chest.

He shifts away from me so he can look at me and asks, "Why were you crying?"

"I wasn't crying," I reply stubbornly.

"Okaaayyy...why were your eyes leaking, then?"  He gives me his best "you're not fooling anyone" look and I sigh.

"I don't know, and before you say you don't believe me, I really don't.  I just got really overwhelmed and frustrated.  And mad at myself.  So I guess that's why."  I pause and then say, "Wait, but why did you apologize?"

"Because I acted like an asshole," he answers sheepishly.

I frown.  "I deserved it.  How do I fix it?  Do you want to look at my phone?  You can read our texts.  I haven't responded to a text from him except for one about work since before that one you saw that started this whole thing."  I walk past him back into the living room and find my phone, then turn and shove it at him as he enters behind me.

He shakes his head and holds up his hands, refusing to take the phone.  "I really do trust you, Lauren.  It has nothing to do with trust and everything to do with just not liking the guy.  I already didn't like him just based off that text, and when he came over with that arrogant attitude, it just pissed me off.  I took it out on you, and that's not fair.  I didn't even realize what a dick I was being until you started crying.  That freaked me out a little."

"That makes two of us," I mutter.  Alex reaches out and rubs my arm, and I sag against him again.  I'm still mad at myself for what I did, and I'm really good at beating myself up and holding grudges.

Reading my mind, Alex says, "Forgive yourself, Laur.  I have."  It's almost enough to make my tears start again, but I get a hold of myself just in time.

We spend the rest of the evening on the couch, because feeling emotions like a normal person wears me out, apparently.  I do have to admit that I'm pleasantly surprised by the way Alex handled my tears.  I'll keep that in mind for the future, not that I plan on crying ever again.



I'm nervous all morning on Saturday before my lunch with Kinsley.  Alex laughs as he watches me walk around, pulling out and discarding several outfits as though I'm going on a date.  "Lauren," he says finally.  "It's Kinsley.  It's going to be fine."

"You clearly don't understand the complicated dynamics of female friendship," I huff.

"That's accurate," he agrees.  "If women were more like men, she'd have punched you in the face instead of storming off, and you guys would be fine right now."

"Yes, well, if women were more like men, nothing would ever get done in the world," I reply haughtily.  "Now shut up about that and tell me which shirt to wear."

I finally make it out the door and I still get to the restaurant where we're meeting 10 minutes early.  Which, in Kinsley time, is at least 20 minutes early, probably closer to 30.  Even so, I go inside a couple minutes before our planned meeting time of 12:30 and get a table.  I'm surprised when Kinsley walks up just 5 minutes later.

"You're on time," I blurt before I can even stop myself.

She gives me a weird look and I'm kicking myself.  I'm not normally so impulsive, but I'm nervous.  Then she laughs, and I breathe a sigh of relief.  "I know, weird huh?"

Our waiter appeared right as she sits down and takes our drink orders, then we look at each other awkwardly for several seconds.  Finally, I say, "Look, I'm really sorry.  I was awful to you, and I feel shitty about it."  I want to say more, but I'm not quite sure what, so I stop.

She nods slowly, then says, "But why?"

"Why what?"

"Why were you acting like that?  It wasn't like you."

I take a breath, wondering how much to say.  Finally, I say, "I was jealous."  She raises her eyebrows and I nod.  "I wasn't in a good spot in my relationship and I was jealous that you were out doing the things we used to do together.  At that moment, they were things I really wished I was doing too."  I stopped and shrugged.  "I took it out on you, and it wasn't fair.  I'm sorry."

"I had no idea," she replies, and she looks concerned.  Why does everyone always look at me like that?  "Are you guys okay now?"

"We are," I say.  "For the most part.  I think we'll be fine, though."

"'For the most part?'  Now you have to tell me more."

I hold up my hand.  "Hold on, are we good?  I'm confused."

Kinsley shrugs.  "I'm good.  Are you good?"

"Yeah, I'm good," I agree.

"Okay, then tell me about Alex.  What did you do this time?"

I laugh, then start telling her the whole story.  When I'm done, I ask about Damien and she fills me in.  When we leave the restaurant almost two hours later, I feel lighter.  It feels good to have my friend back.  Maybe apologizing isn't so bad after all.