Page 69 of Wild Dreams

"Oh, that's not necessary." I hoped Scarlett couldn't see right through us.

"I'll see you two later," Chance said as he walked up the aisle, and I forced myself not to watch him go. It was nice that he stopped in, but pretending we were just friends was difficult.

Maybe I wasn't the one for him. When the right person came along, he'd change his plans for her. That idea struck at the most insecure part of me. The one that said if I wasn't good enough for my parents, I'd never be enough for anyone.

All week, I was busy between work and the play. I was in the theater most days helping Scarlett and Eli plan everything. We'd settled on set design, and Scarlett was going to handle shopping for additional holiday decorations.

I'd stayed up late writing the ending we'd discussed. I realized that Chance was right; any one of the endings I'd thought of could work. It didn't really matter which one we chose. I just had to believe in myself that I could write something compelling.

The problem was, Scarlett kept pushing me to take my plays to the local school. I finally gave in one day during my lunch break, and sent an email to the principal asking him to forward it to the person in charge of the music department.

The high school had a great program, but I wasn't sure how robust the elementary and middle schools were.

Once the email was sent, I was anxious to hear a response. Scarlett thought schools would interested because my stories were fresh. But I wasn't so sure.

As the days went on, I assumed I wouldn't hear anything. Teachers were busy, and I was positive a spring play wasn't necessarily on their radar before Christmas break. I sent a sample of a script that didn't have a lot of set requirements. The schools would need something that could be acted out with minimal props.

Chance stopped by most evenings after work if it wasn't too late. There were a few evenings where he seemed to work all day and then late into the night. I didn't think that was sustainable, but it wasn't my place to criticize his choices.

I enjoyed every minute I got to spend with him, grateful he hadn't decided we shouldn't be seeing each other. But it felt like our time was limited. We were living in this dream world, where nothing seemed real.

We worked together when we were alone in my house. But it didn't escape my attention we'd never been to Chance's place. I didn't even know what it looked like. I assumed he'd chosen his property because of its location outside of town. He wanted privacy. But I'd hoped that he didn't want that from me.

Whenever I was feeling insecure, I wondered if it was because he wasn't serious about me. He saw me as this fling that would eventually end. There was no point in getting any deeper or including me in his real life. I'd never been invited to hishouse. Was it intentional or merely more convenient to hang at my place?

I'd noticed he'd taken to parking several blocks away and walking to my house. I didn't like that either. I wanted to shout from the rooftops that we were together, but he wanted to keep us hidden. Eventually, I was going to have to say something. But I wasn't ready to do that yet. I wasn't ready to let go of what we had.

He knocked on my door late at night and almost immediately started kissing me. There wasn't much time for conversation or reflection. After a round or two of mind-blowing sex, we'd fall asleep. Most mornings, I woke alone.

Either he'd been called into work, or he didn't want to be here when the sun rose. I tried not to let that bother me. I tried to think of it as having a dream boyfriend who only appeared at night, giving me orgasms, and leaving me feeling satisfied.

I wanted a boyfriend I could hold hands with walking down the sidewalk. I wanted to go out to dinner and proclaim to my friend that I was seeing her brother. I wanted townspeople to speculate about when we were getting engaged.

I wanted everything, and I was starting to think I deserved it. I wasn't the lonely, abandoned child of my parents. I was a beautiful, intelligent woman who deserved to be public with her boyfriend. I had nothing to be ashamed of.

I'd hoped that with time, he'd develop the feelings I had. But I wasn't so sure he'd let himself do that.

I was tired of maintaining my parents' home. So on Friday night, I took a deep breath and video called my parents. I wasn't sure why I was so nervous about talking to them. Maybe it was because I'd always let them take the lead on our relationship. I did whatever they asked. This was the first time I was taking charge of something.

When Mom answered, I panicked a little. It was too late to back down now. I never called them outside of our scheduled times.

Mom frowned "Marigold. Is something wrong?"

"I have something I wanted to talk to you about. Is Dad there? I want to include him on this."

"I don't know what could be so important." Mom huffed, but she walked into what looked like the living room and sat next to him. "Marigold wants to talk to us."

When Dad's face appeared on camera, I said, "I hope both of you are doing well."

"Is everything okay with you?" Dad asked, concern etched on his face.

I learned early on never to go to them if I needed anything. They didn't seem to want to hear it, and they were incapable of providing it. Love and care. "I want to talk to you about the house."

"Have you been going over there often?" Dad asked.

"I have twice a month, but I'm wondering why you're keeping it."

Mom looked at Dad. "I just assumed you'd want the house someday."

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