Page 61 of Undone, Love Times Three

I gasp as the thought registers. Like a pain in my chest. And not because I hate it, because I like it.

He doesn’t move, as though he senses I’m a scared animal about to bolt.

For years, my heart has felt like a shattered crystal inside my chest. It beats to keep me alive. I swore it would never beat for another man.

In my mind, at least until this point, love was never worth going through that pain again.

How can this be, when I’ve known him barely more than a month? I don’t believe in true love, how can I accept love at first sight.

My head spins, my eyes move from him to the window, to the bed, and back again. I don’t want to lose this. Or him. He has the potential to break me. And it’s clear as day to me now. I’ve broken my own promise.

My eyes meet Daniel’s. It makes it worse seeing understanding looking back at me.

He sees my struggle. Even though he doesn’t know the whole story, I’ve shared enough for him to realize how much love scares me.

After a moment, he crawls up the bed and rolls on his side, facing me. I turn over so we’re facing one another. There is space between us but only physically.

“Will you stay?”

I haven’t spent the night here yet. It has been my way of controlling this situation. Of convincing myself that we’re not falling in deep. Instead of answering, I shuffle towards him.

He opens his arms for me to slot inside, then pulls me onto his chest. My head rests in the crook between his shoulder and neck and I nuzzle at his warm skin. Daniel sighs in contentment.

Neither of us has the courage to say it. Not yet. But staying here, with him like this, speaks louder than any words I could say right now.

I sleep like a baby and wake up hot, our bodies still pressed together. Daniel is looking away from me, one hand thrown over his eyes, the other arm is around my shoulders. All the times he’s stayed at my place he’s got up and made me breakfast. I’m a terrible cook, but I can throw something together.

It’s difficult, but I get from under him without him waking up. I put on one of his shirts and pad downstairs. I love this house. It’s not over the top ostentatious, even though it's in one of the higher end neighborhoods. It’s clear he has money, but Daniel never flaunts it.

The kitchen is daunting. It takes a while, but I find what I need to scramble some eggs. The best way to eat them in my opinion, and get the coffee going. It takes a while to find the toaster.

“Who puts a toaster inside a cabinet?” I ask in wonder. My toaster is my life.

Everything is mostly put together when the doorbell rings. Daniel hasn’t stirred, and I wanted to take this up to him in bed. It’s early on a Sunday morning. Why is someone ringing the doorbell? Is it wrong to answer his door?

The bell chimes again. Buttoning up the shirt I walk out into the hallway. There is glass at the side of the door. I peer through to see a woman standing outside. Who the hell is that?

My mind automatically flashes back to a different time, when another woman showed up at my door. And shattered my world.

Is that about to happen all over again? I tamp down the spiraling thoughts. She’s seen me standing here now, a look of surprise on her face. A fist tightens around my heart. Only one way to find out. I pull the door open and look at her.

Her lips part and then she gets the oddest look in her eye. Like she has something over me, some kind of victory. I don’t say a word.

“Adele Brody?” she asks.

That throws me. How does she know my name? Shit, the last time this happened, I was served with papers for the lawsuit. Hell no. I’m about to step back and slam the door so she doesn’t have time to do anything, but she holds up a hand.

“You own Blue’s Hideaway, right?”

Still, I keep my mouth shut. Why the hell did I open the door.

“And you’re here,” she eyes my outfit, the bare legs. “Clearly involved with Daniel Murphy.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Erin Witt.”

“What do you want?”

---