What the Rug Does
She had stood by the door and watched him leave. He had smiled that sarcastic sneer of his as he left.
“I’ll be back for my stuff.”
She had decided not to give him the pleasure. She was going to do something to it.
So when he came back the next day, most of his stuff was sitting on the front. Except his favourite shirts. She’d learnt that those concerts she never went to, he had gone to with…
With that woman.
So she’d decided to make those into a rug. He wouldn’t be getting those back.
She sat at the computer table and spun her chair. Yes, she should be doing something productive, but she just didn’t… didn’t feel like it.
Ever since he had left she didn’t much feel like doing anything.
She turned to look at the rug sitting across the room. It stared back at her, the faces, the shapes that had until recently graced his chest before she’d stitched them into a rug. Not much of a revenge, but…
She shook her head, and turned back to face the computer. She was done with him, and done with the rug.
She pounced, clicking the button. $40, and a promise to abuse the rug. Good enough. Accepting it, she looked at that rug again. And cursed him silently.
The man put the rug into the back of his car and smiled at the woman. She took his money, and walked back into the house without a second glance.
He’d hoped to talk to her, ask her why her fiance had dumped her, maybe get to know her. Guess not.
Oh well. Time to take the rug and use it as requested. He was always game to help someone get back at their ex. Ever since that day three years ago…
Nah, not important. Not an important thought, so he stopped it.
The car clicked as it accelerated, and he drove home.
She sat there and spun her chair again.
Even though she’d sold that rug…
He was still there. She could almost feel his presence. And she kinda wanted him back.
And she wanted that rug back as well. Because maybe it had been a mistake to sell it. Because if she still had it, then he’d come back, at least once more.
No. That was not a thought that made any sense.
Zeke turned the car into his driveway. He sat there for another minute, reluctant.
But he still found himself getting out of the car and tucking the rug under his arm. His keys spun around his finger as he stepped to the door. With the click-clack of the tumblers turning he plastered a smile on his face.
He locked the door behind him and dropped the rug in one corner.
“Did you buy that rug you wanted?”
“I did. Worth the drive.”
His girlfriend leaned into the hallway.
“...What is that thing?”
“Its made out of old concert shirts. You know, Bieber, One Direction, The Jonas Brothers, that kind of thing. See, you can still see some of the names.”
“Why all the lame groups?”
“That was what the person was into.”
“If you say so. Now, I’ve been busy all day. I could have used your help before, and I can certainly use it now. Don’t just stand there, there’s a list of stuff to be done.”
Zeke unrolled the rug before hanging up his coat.
Leslie sat at her desk, and typed out another few lines of her book. She didn’t like it, but her editor said that it was just what they needed.
So she was content to churn out another steamy romance, even though she herself no longer had any reason to want one, no fuel, nothing to inspire her.
But she could tell that her writing was suffering. She needed a boyfriend for it.
She pushed herself away from the desk and let the momentum carry her chair into the center of the room. She began to spin again, twirling around and around as she let her mind wander.
That guy who had picked up the rug had been pretty nice looking…
But she cut the thought off before it could go anywhere. She didn’t need someone else who was going through an ugly break-up.
Zeke finished caulking the bathroom sink. He was so done here.
Because, honestly, Delilah wasn’t doing it for him anymore. There was no spark, nothing left to their romance. But he couldn’t just leave.
He placed the caulking gun down, then walked out.
A breath of fresh air would do him good.
Leslie stood up. She was done here. She wasn’t getting anything done, needed fresh air.
She shrugged on a jacket, walked outside.
Zeke was walking along, hands in his pockets when he bumped into her.
“My fault, don’t worry about it-”
They both looked up and took a small step back in surprise. Leslie spoke first.
“How are you liking the rug?”
“I’ve had it for about two hours.”
There was an awkward pause before Zeke moved to walk by.
“Wait! Uhh.” Leslie stood for a second, trying to figure out just what to do “Do you want to go out for coffee?”
Zeke looked at her, at his watch, then back.
Zeke unlocked the door, whistling. He had been seeing Leslie for about two weeks now, and life was not as much of a burden.
Wiping his feet on the rug, he smiled as he hung his coat on the hook.
His smile died at Delilah’s shout. This part of his life was still not all that great.
“Zeke!” She came around the corner and frowned at him “We’re living together, and that means we do equal shares.”
Zeke looked at Delilah and made a decision.
“Actually, I think that we need to talk.”
Leslie sat there at the coffee shop. Zeke had left a few minutes ago, but she was still sitting there, thinking. She had invited him over a few times, but she had never seen his place.
She was going to go put her fears to rest. She paid for her extra coffee and left.
“You’ve been seeing someone else?” Delilah’s voice was half shriek “That’s how you’re going to tell me you’ve been cheating on me? In that stupid calm tone, that stupid infuriating look?”
“Then get out! You seem to hate it here so much that you can get out while I figure out what to do!”
A knock on the door interrupted the shouting.
Delilah looked at Zeke angrily “Is that her now?”
She ran to the door, and pulled it open.
Leslie saw an angry woman standing on the rug that Zeke had bought.
“Is Zeke here?”
It was, apparently, the wrong question.
Zeke could hear the shouts getting louder and louder. He risked a look around the corner to see his two girlfriends standing on the rug, alternating between yelling abuse at each other and at abuse about him.
“It all started when he got this damn rug!”
“Well, when I sold it to him I didn’t know it was going to be a problem!”
“You sold him the rug? Then its even more your fault!”
“He was the one who bought it from me, he was the one who wanted to cheat, so its his fault!”
Zeke shook his head and began to pack his bags. He had a feeling that he would not be welcome with either of them from now on.