Page 44 of Yours to Conquer

The phone startles me from my thoughts. “I’m Too Sexy” plays two verses before I answer.

“Hello,” I whisper. My voice is a whisper.

“Where are you at? I can hardly hear you.” His voice gets louder as if he’s trying to compensate for the softness of mine.

“Hold on.” I walk into the kitchen. “Is this better?”

“Yes. How are you?”

“I’m good. I’m happy it’s the weekend and plan to sleep in and then get my nails done in the afternoon. What are you up to?” I wait for him to give me some information. Maybe he’ll say he had to fly to Phoenix and check on the restaurants. I pray silently he tells me anything that will give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Same old stuff. I was meeting with the accountant. I think I may be home Sunday. We’ll see.”

Here’s the thing: she could be the accountant, but why wouldn’t he say that when I asked about the redheaded girl? I have to think about this for a while.

“It’s a warm and balmy day here today. How’s the weather in Dallas?”

“Hot and humid,” he says without a moment’s hesitation.

“Good luck tomorrow. I’m going to take a bath and head to bed. It’s been a long week. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?” The lump in my throat is just about choking the life out of me.

“Are you all right? You sound a bit off.” His voice sounds concerned.

“Yes, just tired. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“I love you, Emma.” His voice sounds sincere.

When did he learn to lie so easily? Has he always had this skill, and I couldn’t see it because love blinded me?

“Love you, too,” I respond. I do love him, and it will take some time to get over that. Fate has dished me up another serving of bullshit. When I feel like my stuff is straight, she says, “Here you go, take this and choke on it.”Fate’s a bitch!

I close my laptop and descend to the ground floor. The spigot squeaks as I turn the bath taps on full force. I need a relaxing soak to clear my head and think about how I will handle it.

My natural reaction would have been to yell at him and call him a liar. That behavior hasn’t worked well in the past, so I have to develop a new plan.

The bubbles cascade over my body, and I sink into the water until it gently laps over my chin. I wish I could stay in this bath the whole night. Unfortunately, I have to pack up my clothes and load my car. If Anthony is coming home soon, I don’t want to be here for a confrontation.

Feeling calm and clear-headed,I begin packing up my life with Anthony. I start in the closet first. I have a lot of clothes. I have no idea why I need this many pairs of jeans. I probably have at least twenty pairs, and I rarely wear them. I’m more of a dress girl. When I get settled, I’m going to have to clear things out. This is excessive.

I continue to make the trek up the stairs and into the garage, where I load my car. I shove shoes in every nook and cranny possible and put a suitcase full of cosmetics and bath supplies in the front seat.

I walk back into the house and look around. I was getting used to the idea that this place was going to be my home. Now I have to say goodbye. I wipe the silent tear that falls down my cheek and wish I could call Kat, but I wouldn’t want to put her in a position to choose. She’d feel obligated to her future husband to tell him what’s going on. She’d also feel her loyalty to me should take precedence.

I pick up my phone from the table in the kitchen and text Roxy.

Sorry for the back-and-forth confusion. I’m moving back in with you tomorrow. I’ll be there fairly early and didn’t want to startle you.

Thanks for the warning. It will be nice having you inthe house. The creeper was back today. I called the police, but he left before they came. I’d have freaked if the door opened unexpectedly.

That is creepy. I’ve never seen anyone lurking in the neighborhood, and I’ve owned the house for years.

Yes, it’s weird. I’ll see you tomorrow. We can talk about why you’re running away again. I have to finish my shift, so I can’t talk now.

I put my phone back on the table. Who is this man that keeps showing up outside? He started coming around the day she moved in. She’s going to have to rack her brain to figure that one out. I never had a stalker before, and it’s suspect that he showed up the day she did.

I walk back down to the bedroom and climb into bed. His pillow smells like him, and I inhale deeply. He is always fresh and clean, with a hint of citrus, and I’ll miss him.

I think about my texts with Roxy. Am I running away again? Is this a pattern with me? When things get tough, I just run for cover? I don’t think so. Usually, I fight back; however, I’m always in preservation mode. That may make me more self-centered than I should be. I’ll have to think about that.

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