Chapter 69: Melting Ice Cream
The last bits of my ice cream melt, leaving a gooey mess in the carton as it sits on my desk. My bedroom is stationed high above the city on the fifteenth floor of a building Vincent owns. I positioned the desk on a slight angle so I could work on my computer and look out at the city lights. And okay, fine. Occasionally I catch a view of Vincent's building. Now, it stares back at me laughing after taking away the positive I saw in my future. He's not shoving ice cream in his face all weekend.
I need to toss the ice cream, but the small trashcan by my desk is full. The other two pints from this weekend cause it to overflow. Thursday night I spent on the couch with Ashley, drinking and eating my sorrows. Friday morning she emailed blaming my missing work on a migraine. It wasn't far from the truth. I woke up that morning with ice cream dried to my shirt and a hangover headache that would have killed a lesser woman.