"You look like crap," Junior's mother says when I walk into her kitchen. I sit on the bar stool on the island and sigh. She's right, the past two weeks have been a horror show. Shalom is not really talking to me. She asked for some space to think and I had to give it to her. I'm in no position to demand otherwise. "Thanks" I say and she looks at me concerned. She comes to sit on the stool in front of me. "Do you want to talk about it?" She asks after a beat. "I don't know," I say and she frowns. "You still don't talk to anyone about your struggles huh?" She says and my conversation with Shalom hits me like a train. I didn't talk to her and now we're here. The sad part is that we were waiting for me to talk to her. For a whole six months, she was patiently waiting for me to come to her and I never did, instead, I went to my ex. "Did I do that when we were together?" I ask even though I know
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