I Was Done Being Second

"What are you doing?" Miranda frowned at the suitcase in my hand. "I asked you to keep it down, and now you're packing your bags? Seriously, Randy? Don't you think you're being a little dramatic?"

Ashton's expression shifted. "Come on, Miranda. If he's upset enough to leave, maybe you should talk to him first."

Then, he turned to me. "Hey, man, I didn't mean anything by it. And don't be mad at Miranda. You know she's not great at saying what she means. She probably just wants you home earlier."

He paused for a moment before adding, "How about this? We'll find a place closer to your office once the lease is up. There's no point making a big scene this late and waking the neighbors, right?"

The exhaustion from days of overtime hit me all at once, and my throat tightened.

I thought, 'Really? I'm the one making a scene? All I want is to get home a little earlier, eat something after a long day, and get some rest. How did that turn into me being the problem?'

My hands went still.

Ashton glanced at Miranda and gave her a look. Before I could react, she snatched the suitcase out of my hand and pulled out her phone.

"Fine. I shouldn't have eaten your food," she said. "I'll order you something else, okay?"

My stomach already ached with hunger, and I didn't have the energy to argue anymore. "Fine."

Ashton immediately perked up. "If you're ordering, get me something, too. That burger place we had last time was good. Oh, and grab a couple beers."

Miranda rolled her eyes. "Your stomach was already bothering you last time. No beer."

Then, she tapped her phone a few times. "I'll get you a burger, but nothing spicy. And don't eat too much, okay?"

Ashton held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. You win."

They started playing video games while we waited for the food. Half an hour later, the food finally arrived.

I opened the bag and found a container of cold chicken pasta salad with corn. The dressing had started to congeal, leaving a greasy film over the top.

Whatever appetite I had left disappeared.

I hated corn, but Ashton loved it.

By then, I'd been hungry for so long that the hunger itself had faded into a dull ache. I took a sip of water, got up, and went back to my room.

The apartment walls were thin, so I could hear Miranda and Ashton laughing and yelling at their game even with the door shut. Every sound grated on my nerves.

I tossed and turned for hours that night, and couldn't even remember when I finally dozed off.

My head was pounding when I woke up the next day. The sky outside was dark and gray, but I didn't realize I'd forgotten my umbrella until a severe storm warning appeared on my phone.

By the time I got off work, rain was coming down in sheets.

I hurried to the train station, only to learn that service had been suspended because of the storm. I paused to stare at the notice, then pulled out my phone and called Miranda.

"The trains are down. You took the car this morning, right? Can you come pick me up?"

There was a lot of noise on her end, and I heard Ashton laughing beneath it.

"Yeah," Miranda replied without hesitation. "Just wait there."

40 minutes passed, but there was still no sign of her.

I called her again.

Irritation crept into her voice this time. "Can you stop rushing me? Your office is all the way across town. Obviously, it's going to take a while."

I said nothing.

Just then, a car raced through a curbside puddle, splashing a sheet of dirty water all over me. My clothes were soaked instantly. A cold gust swept past, and I realized I was shivering.

Another 50 minutes passed, but Miranda still hadn't shown up.

I tightened my grip on my phone and caught my reflection in the glass beside me. Pale face, empty eyes, clothes soaked through and clinging to my skin.

I barely recognized myself.

God, I looked pathetic.

Just then, my phone rang.

It was Miranda.

"Something came up, so I don't think I can come get you anymore," she blurted quickly. "I'll send you some money. Just get an Uber home or something."

I stared ahead in disbelief. "What happened?"

Something strange was in her voice… a nervousness she was trying, and failing, to hide.

"Ashton lost his ranked match, and he's really upset. I can't just leave him here alone. What if he does something stupid?"

I was still trying to process what I'd just heard when she let out an irritated sigh. "And honestly, Randy, he's your friend, too. You know he's having a rough night, but you're leaving me here to deal with everything instead of checking on him."

A sharp pain twisted through my chest.

I slowly curled my hand into a fist, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. "Miranda, that apartment is supposed to be our home, yours and mine. So, why does it always feel like someone else is in it?"

My voice dropped to barely more than a whisper. "That's not my home anymore..."

Alas, she had already ended the call.

She never heard me.

I tipped my head back and swallowed, forcing down the ache in my throat. Then, I opened the message my boss had sent 30 minutes earlier.

I stared at it for a few seconds before typing my reply, "Mr. Sullivan, regarding that promotion and transfer you offered me... I'm in."