The smashing sound of the plates got us gasping, April and I. She'd opted to prepare dinner and I'd opted to assist her. But in the last thirty minutes, I've smashed two plates and a cup.
“Seriously, girl. What's going on with you?” She reached for the broom, sweeping up the glass shards and disposing of them in the bin.
I went to the sink to wash my jittery hands, as if that would help me calm down.
“Are you sure you're okay, Willow? I'm genuinely worried about you now.”
“I'm fine.” But even my voice was unsteady. I can't help it. Dinner's in a few minutes. And then I'll have to sneak into Joe's room.
The thought of him being deep inside me, with April being just a room across, has me feeling all shades of anxiety attacks since the afternoon.
I wanna back out. I did text him t
