She turned her face away, grabbing several tissues from the box on the nightstand and pressing them to her face. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice thick and muffled. "You have to see me in such a state again. I promise I'm not usually a crybaby."
She said "again" because of the time she had broken down on the hospital balcony, long before they were properly acquainted, when he had stumbled upon her at her lowest point.
Joseph looked down at her. The loud, honking sound she made as she blew her nose was somehow both funny and endearing, and a small smile touched his lips.
After she had disposed of the tissues, he teased her gently. "You're so focused on cleaning yourself up. Aren't you going to wipe down my shirt?"
Vivica had just pulled out a fresh tissue when his words stopped her. She looked down and saw a noticeable damp patch on his shirt where her tears had soaked through. A fresh wave of mortification washed over her. She glanced up at him, her ears burning, and quickly used the clean tissue in her hand to dab at the spot.
"It's going to leave a mark even when it's dry," she said awkwardly. "Why don't you take it off, and I can wash it for you?"
"As I recall," Joseph said lightly, "you still haven't returned the last jacket you took from me."
Vivica froze, the memory hitting her with the force of a physical blow. She looked up at him, utterly stunned, wishing the floor would swallow her whole.
"I…" She scrambled for an explanation. "I took that jacket home. I was planning to take it to the dry cleaner, but then so many things happened—"
She was beyond annoyed with herself. She had remembered the jacket several times, but it had always slipped her mind. She didn't even know if Fannie had packed it when she helped her move yesterday.
"Oh no… what if it got lost during the move…" Vivica muttered to herself.
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