Page 91 of Pretty Heartache

“That’s strange.” He clears his throat. I can tell he’s nervous. “It should be on.”

“It’s fine. There are candles in my bedroom. I’ll go grab them and use those. The battery on my phone is charged enough, so I’m not worried about it dying before you get home.”

“Okay,” he says. “Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”

“If it makes you feel better.” I smile to myself.

“It does.”

My cheeks heat, and my body aches for his. I imagine the warmth of his body against mine, the feel of his hardened muscles under my fingers. I’m imagining his kiss, but then another crack of thunder rolls above, this time it’s louder, and shakes the house.

I’m still looking out the window when a sharp bolt of lightning strikes one of the trees still violently swaying with the wind. Then without warning, a torrent of rain falls. Heavy sheets of it pour down in weighted sheets, the sound drowning out the thunder above. I’m scanning the backyard when my gaze falls on the garden box.

Puddles form in the dirt, with water spilling over the sides. The rain is falling so hard and so fast, the soil is splashing over the top. Having just planted the seeds yesterday, the soil is fragile.

“Oh, fuck, the garden box.” I hiss, running to the back door.

“What about it?” Micah asks.

Pressing the phone between my shoulder and cheek, I slip on each of my garden boots. “I need to cover the garden box or else it’ll flood.”

“Addy,” Micah sighs while I slip each of my arms into my coat. “Don’t worry about the garden box. You can replant the seeds again.”

“I can’t. I’ve worked so hard on it.”

I push through the back door, allowing the screen to slam shut behind me. The metal bangs against the doorframe as Idash from out underneath the covered patio. I pick up the folded blue tarp I placed in the corner by my garden supplies and stand at the edge of the patio. I’m already out of breath, preparing myself to quickly run out into the yard.

“Micah, I have to go.”

“No, Addy. Don’t hang up.” His voice cuts in and out, the phone losing signal.

“I’m not yet.” I still have my phone pressed to my cheek and the hood of my raincoat pulled over my head. “But I need to get this covered or else all my work will have been for nothing. It’ll only take a second. I just need to drape the tarp over the box so the seeds don’t drown.”

“Addy,” Micah growls in frustration. He knows how stubborn I am when it comes to my projects. I already lost out on the furniture. I don’t want to give up on this, either.

“I’ll keep you on the phone,” I tell him, running out into the yard. My feet pound into the puddles flooding the yard. Rain pelts my back and head, and by the time I’ve made it to the garden box, my legs are soaking wet up past my calves.

I’m quick to unfold the tarp, keeping my phone pressed against my shoulder. It would have been easier if I’d ended my call with Micah, but it’s too late for that now. Lightning strikes again, and a figure in the distance catches my attention.

The tarp is only half unfolded when my breath catches in my throat.

“Adeline?” Micah asks.

“Wait.” Another round of thunder crashes, and lightning strikes. Flashes of bright light shine across the backyard, highlighting the shadowy figure stalking toward me. I can’t tell who he is from this distance. My legs are frozen in place, unable to move. An icy chill slithers down the back of my neck as he grows closer. I hear Micah’s voice in my ear again, but he’s choppy and unintelligible now.

The man continues walking toward me. Stiffly, his arms are at his sides, and his boots pound into the soaking wet ground. I drop the tarp when he reaches the opposite side of the garden box. He moves around it and begins walking toward me again.

His face is covered in shadows, making him unrecognizable, but from what I can tell, he’s tall and broad shouldered, towering over me.

I open my mouth, and the sounds of my heavy, quick breaths are drowned out by the rushing rain.

“Adeline!” Micah yells, cutting out again. “Tell me what’s going on!”

“Someone…” I swallow, slowly starting to back away.

“What?” Micah asks. His voice fades when the phone slips from under my cheek. It falls from out under the hood of my coat and into the garden box.

I take another step back, but the man is quick to catch up to me, and my breath is stolen from my lungs when his face finally comes into view.

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