Breaking Down

Chapter 20

20

Gabi

There was a pizza place right around the corner. I ordered an extra-large pepperoni pizza and also one of their cookie-pizza desserts, and in less than twenty minutes, I was back at my new apartment. In the little time I was gone, Tyler managed to open his boxes and spread his things through the place.

I halted in the door and looked around. He had told me he didn’t have much and what he had was simple, but so far it looked like he had a good taste. At least right now he had way more things than me in the apartment. So far, I had only two suitcases in my bedroom. My furniture would arrive—a queen bed and mattress, two nightstands, a dresser, and an armchair. I would have to think about the little walk-in-closet. There was only a couple of wire shelves in there and it wouldn’t be enough. But that was for later.

“Pizza is here,” I announced, weaving through the open boxes.

Tyler’s head poked up from behind a stack of boxes. “Oh, good.”

I placed the pizza on the kitchen counter and looked around. No plates, forks, or knifes. I glanced at Tyler. “Do you know where your kitchen stuff is?”

He halted beside the counter. “Hm, I’m not sure. I don’t remember seeing it just now, so it must be in one of the boxes I haven't opened yet. Why?”

“So we can eat.” I wasn’t going to eat pizza at this time of the afternoon, but I was dying to sink my teeth into the cinnamon-scented cookie.

Tyler let out a low chuckle. “We don’t need that.” Unceremoniously, he opened the pizza box and grabbed a slice with his hand. Then, he bit into it. All the while looking at me.

I scrunched my nose. “I forget you Americans eat pizza like that.”

He swallowed. “Is there any other way to eat pizza?”

I rolled my eyes. “Bem, if you let us, Brazilians will eat even cheeseburgers with a fork and knife. Or at least holding it with a napkin.”

“It seems Brazilians are nuts.”

I smiled. “Perhaps.”

He stopped chewing and his eyes flicked to my mouth for half a second. I lost my smile and turned to the second box I had brought. “There’s this too.” I opened the smaller box with the cookie pizza. “I think it’s just a giant, thick cookie in a pizza shape, but it looks so good.”

He nodded. “I've had it before. It is really good.”

I picked up a small slice in my hand, wishing I had a plate and utensils. “It would probably go well with coffee.”

Tyler glanced over his shoulder. “The coffee machine isn’t in a box. I saw it a few minutes ago.”

He took a step back, but I raised my hand. “It’s okay. Eat your pizza and I’ll look around for the coffee machine.”

I dropped my slice of cookie pizza back into the box and made my way through all the things spread around the living room. Looking at it all so messy, I wondered if this small apartment would be enough to house everything. But I knew once Tyler picked it all up and organized his things, I would probably have to go out and buy more furniture and decorations. As far as I knew, guys weren’t into details, while I needed them.

I rummaged through the boxes until I saw it, lying on the floor beside an open box. I bent down to pick it up, but the contents of the open box caught my attention. Right on top of the box was a small jewelry box, and right beside it, a picture frame. I picked up the picture frame and smiled at a young Tyler, probably three or four years old, on a horse’s back, his smile wide and his entire face alight. Underneath the frame, there was an open shoe box filled with pictures. Curiosity won over, and instead of picking up the coffee machine and bring it over to the kitchen, I grabbed the box.

“Look what I found,” I told Tyler as I walked back to the kitchen. I placed the box right beside the pizza on the counter. I reached for the picture on top—a young couple and a baby, who I assumed were Tyler and his parents. “You never told me about your family.” The moment my fingers closed around the photo, Tyler snatched it from me. I was about to snap at him, but then I looked up at him. His eyes were rounded, his jaw taut, his shoulders tense. “What happened?”

“You shouldn’t have touched this,” he said, his voice low and harsh.

“It was just lying there. I didn’t mean to—”

“It doesn’t matter where it was. It isn't yours.”

I stepped back, surprised by his tone. “Hey, I—”

The doorbell rang. We stared at each other for another moment, neither of us ready to give in. The doorbell rang again.

Without a word, Tyler grabbed the box and marched to the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

I let out a sigh and rushed to the door.

“Hi,” the man standing at the hallway said as soon as I opened the door. “We’re here to deliver some furniture. Are you Gabriela Fernandes?”

“Yes.”

Soon, he and his colleague brought my new furniture to my bedroom and they started assembling it. Meanwhile, I didn’t know what to do with myself. Tyler appeared in the living room and kitchen every few minutes, to get more of his stuff into his bedroom, but since he had been so sensitive about me touching his stuff, I didn’t offer to help.

Instead, I made sure the guys putting my room together had all they needed, then I left the apartment. I needed time and space. I needed fresh air.

I walked aimlessly around the neighborhood, trying to pay attention to the little shops and services nearby. Better than thinking of Tyler and his snappy mood. So that was how our two years living under the same roof would be? I couldn’t touch his stuff or he would freak out. Well, I better put a line dividing the kitchen then, so I wouldn't risk losing a finger if I used one of his mugs or plates.

I let out a long breath.

This was ridiculous. We couldn’t live like that for long.

No, we had to sit down and talk about this. Establish rules. Otherwise, he would drive me nuts, and we would never be able to have anyone come over.

I walked around for over an hour—with a quick pitstop at the cute, local bookstore, and a small pet shop—then I decided it was enough. It was almost seven in the evening and now I was hungry.

I stopped by a Chinese restaurant and ordered dinner for Tyler and me.

Back at the apartment, the living room looked much better, with the couch and the TV stand in place, and with only a few more boxes pushed to the side, and a few more boxes along the kitchen’s counter. The men working on my furniture were gone, and Tyler seemed to be in his bedroom, from the shuffling and rustling and dragging sounds coming from there.

I halted at the end of the hallway, wondering if I should call him for dinner, or simply leave the food on the counter and hope he found it.

In the end, I decided to be the better man. But, as I started walking down the hallway, Tyler crossed by his door and saw me.

He straightened. “Hey.”

I lifted the bag in my hands. “I brought dinner. I hope you like Chinese.” Then, without hearing if he did like or not, or if he wanted to eat or not, I turned and marched to the kitchen.

There were some plates and knives and forks on the counter now, but with these we wouldn’t need them. I picked a box with noodles and leaned against the counter.

A second later, Tyler emerged from the hallway. He came to the kitchen, picked up his box, and leaned against the counter, standing across from me.

He gestured to the box. “Thanks.”

“De nada.” I looked down at my food.

I had eaten almost half of it when Tyler cleared his throat. “Um,” he started. I looked up at him. His expression was relaxed and his body wasn’t tense. “I want to apologize … for before. I didn’t mean to be a jerk. I just … my family is a sensitive topic, and I usually shut anyone out before they can ask me about it.” He paused. “But that’s no excuse for being a jerk. So, I’m sorry.”

Not the best apology I had ever heard, but that would do. For now. “It’s okay.” Then, I frowned. “As long as you don’t turn into a psycho who is going to bully me all the time and treat me like dirt, it’s okay.”

He had noticed my teasing tone, otherwise the corner of one of his lips wouldn’t have curled up. “I’ll try my best.”

I rolled my eyes, then went back to my dinner.

Saturday was an awkward day.

The apartment was mostly organized, and now that there wasn’t much to do with it, Tyler and I didn’t know what to do when around each other. He wasn’t the warmest person I had met, but thankfully he hadn’t been a jerk.

In the morning, I went grocery shopping, while Tyler finished organizing the last of his stuff. In the afternoon, I made a list of things we needed for the apartment—new curtains, more dishes, a good frying pan, some cute mugs, more vases and glass decorations for the living room, and maybe a painting or two to hang on the walls—while Tyler went out for a couple of hours.

Before he left, I had told him about a dinner at my brother’s apartment.

“Another one?”

I sighed. “Yes. It’s like that almost every Saturday. And many other days of the week too.”

He grumbled something about rich people not having anything to do, then left without letting me know if we would have dinner with my family or not. And I wouldn’t go alone. I would rather lie again that we had something else planned than show up there alone.

While Tyler was out, I took a shower and got dressed—cropped jeans, an off-the-shoulder blouse, and ballet flats. I brushed my long, wavy hair until it shone, then decided to put it in a ponytail.

Then, I waited.

And waited.

So I wouldn’t bite my nails, I texted Pri.

Me: What are you up to tonight?

It took her a few minutes to reply.

Pri: The usual. Going out to dinner with Lucia and Adriana, then we’ll probably go to a club. You?

Me: The usual. Going to my brother’s apt for dinner.

Pri: And how are things with your man?

I almost asked her “what man? I don’t have a man” but decided she didn’t need to know about that yet. I planned on telling her the truth, but I would rather do that face-to-face.

Me: It’s all good.

Pri: When am I gonna meet him?

Me: I’m not sure. I have to talk to him about going down there.

Pri: Yes! Bring him and let’s show him what partying really means.

I shook my head. Partying in Brazil wasn’t that much different than here. It just started later and went into early morning.

I was typing some funny retort when she texted again.

Pri: I gotta go now. Talk to you later.

Me: Okay. Have fun!

Pri: Always!

I smiled at my phone, suddenly missing her and wishing she was here, so she could make my days less awkward. More fun. So I could tell her the truth and she could make the situation less dire. Lighter.

I was still smiling when my phone rang again with a new text. This time though, it wasn't from Pri.

Mateus: I tried letting it go. I tried not caring. But I can’t. I have to know. Is it true?

I inhaled deeply.

Me: What’s true?

Mateus: That you’re staying there because you’re engaged to some dude.

Since the beginning of our relationship, Mateus had always been jealous. Even my brother and cousins and best friends weren't as bad. And, even though we had broken up eighteen months ago, he still acted like a jealous jerk.

Me: Sim.

Mateus: I don’t believe it. That’s not like you.

I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t reply.

But he did.

Mateus: You’re doing that for a green card, right? You’re getting married to some punk just to be able to stay there.

I pressed my lips tight. Droga.

Me: If I tell you it’s not like that, you won’t believe me, so … believe whatever you want.

Mateus: You sold yourself.

Me: If you’re gonna insult me, then I’ll block your number.

Mateus: It’s not an insult if it’s the truth.

Grunting, I dropped my phone on the couch and stared daggers at it. Who did he think he was? He hadn’t been this much of a jerk when he was my boyfriend.

The front door opened fast, startling me.

My hand flew to my racing heart. “Meu Deus,” I whispered.

Without looking at me, Tyler strode to the kitchen, opened the fridge, grabbed a beer, and took a long, long sip. He settled it on the counter and finally acknowledged me.

“Are you ready?”

I frowned. “For?”

“To go to your brother’s apartment.”

I gaped at him. “I … I didn’t think you wanted to go.”

“I don’t,” he snapped. “But it’s all part of the facade, right?”

I stood. “Tyler, we don’t need to go. I can just—”

“No, it’s fine.” He finished the beer in another swallow. “Let’s go.”