Chapter Eight

I woke up with the worst headache of my life. I didn't even realize I was home for the first minute I was awake. I glanced around at my house, which was trashed completely. Broken bottles and angry punches on the walls matched the rage of my headache. I was now in the depressive state I was all to familiar with. I heard pounding on my door. Shit. Shit. If that was John, which I know it is, he'll break up with me for sure if he see's me like this.

I rose from my bed and slowly made my way to the living room which was less trashed. I made a quick effort to pick up some bottles which caused my head to swim. Finally I opened the door to a concerned John. He looked around at my apartment, then at me, and hugged me tightly.

"What happened?" He asked, his chin on my head. I just shook my head and held him tighter. He pulled away, grabbed my shoulders and looked right into my eyes. "You need to tell me."

"I can't." I said tears streaking down my face with embarrassment.

"Did someone break in? Do I need to call the police? Are you okay?"

"It was me. I... I got fired."

"What? Why? You were such a good employee. Also how does getting fired lead to this?"

I couldn't tell him. If he knew it was him/us that got me fired he would definitely break up with me or at least freak out.

"I guess they didn't want me anymore. I don't know John... He didn't say much. I just take stuff really seriously." John just shook his head.

"Well at any rate, we have to clean this house."

"Yeah. It's worse in the bedroom." I groaned. He winked at me. "Oh shut up!" I laughed punching his shoulder. "Grab a trash bag I guess."

"This is going to be a long day." John breathed.

By the time we were done picking up all the bottles around the house and picking up pillows and other trash it was 2:00 PM.

"Lunch?" John asked. "I know a great pizza place around the corner."

"Teddy's Pizzeria?"

"How'd you guess? It's like you live here or something!"

We got going after I put on some makeup and made sure I didn't look like a complete hungover mess. We walked, and talked, and by the time we were at the pizza place, we were both starving. We ordered our pizza, John got a slice with peperoni, and I got some with only cheese. I sighed and looked up at John.

"I'm sorry about last night. I didn't answer your calls, I made you clean up my apartment, you were so worried about me, and I lied to you." I whispered the last part. Part of me hoping he didn't hear it.

"You lied?" He asked. It was gentle, but concerned. Not the angry "You LIED???" I was used too.

"He fired me because our relationship, and the press was affecting my work."

"Okay. Thank you for telling me." He smiled. "We can get you a new job. One that doesn't have an awful boss."

"Really?"

He took my hand and kissed it

"Promise."