Gold Digger – Story 34 – WHAT D DECIDED
He made coffee.
I came out of the bathroom and D was in my kitchen making coffee like he knew where everything was.
He does.
He handed me a mug without turning around.
I took it.
We stood there for a moment.
Then:
“I should’ve said something sooner,” he said.
“D -“
“I kept telling myself it was fine.” He looked at his mug. “That we’d figure it out eventually.”
A small laugh.
Not amused.
“Turns out eventually is a terrible strategy.”
“I know,” I said.
“That’s on me.”
He said it simply.
No performance.
No martyrdom.
Just – owned it.
Put it down.
Moved on.
“There’s Adam,” I said.
“I know.”
“That’s not nothing.”
“I know what it is.”
Silence.
Then:
“Mila.”
I looked up.
“You don’t get to do this part with a spreadsheet.”
I stared at him.
“You don’t get to run the scenarios and compare the columns and wait for the answer to appear.”
“That’s not what I -“
“Last night happened.”
Simple.
Certain.
“You know why.”
A pause.
“I know why.”
He picked up his mug.
“Stop pretending you don’t.”
I looked at my coffee.
The kitchen was very quiet.
Here’s the thing about D saying stop pretending you don’t know.
There’s no argument.
There’s no column for he’s wrong.
Because he’s not wrong.
Last night happened.
I know why it happened.
The problem is that I’ve known for a long time.
Long enough that pretending otherwise has started to feel ridiculous.
D was just – done.
Done with the fiction.
Done with the row that doesn’t exist.
Done letting me file things under not a column and move on.
He finished his coffee.
Put the mug in the sink.
Picked up his jacket from the floor.
Still damp.
At the door he stopped.
“You need to talk to Adam.”
Not a question.
Not an ultimatum.
Just true.
The way D says things that are just true.
He looked at me once.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.
Then he left.
I stood in my kitchen.
His mug in the sink.
My phone on the counter.
Adam’s goodnight x still on the screen.
I picked it up.
Put it down.
Picked it up again.
D was right.
That was the problem.
D was completely, specifically, infuriatingly right and I had run out of spreadsheet to hide behind.
Last night happened.
I know why.
Now I had to figure out what to do with the knowing.
Spreadsheet status:
D → said: you don’t get to do this with a spreadsheet. said: stop pretending you don’t know. said: I’m not going anywhere. left anyway.
Adam → goodnight x. unanswered.
D is right. that’s the whole problem. – Mila