Page 29 of Look My Way
No one else removed the curtains, and my recipe box has been in the same place this whole time. As long as I’m imagining all this, then what’s the harm?
The real problem is how real I want this to be. Toes curling against the concrete, my nails dig into my skin as I come shaking. I lean forward, catching my breath, and look at the mess I’ve left on the table. That’s when I see another paper sticking out of one of my pots.
My pulse pounds in my ears and I shove myself back into my pants as I rest my weight on one of the chairs. Hands shaking, I snatch the note from the dirt, and money falls onto the ground, barely missing my feet.
Carino,
I didn’t feel right taking your work for free. Not when you’ve poured so much of yourself onto each page. You should value yourself more. You’re worth way more than you realize.
Oh, and I’m on chapter five of Obey Me, and I can’t wait to see if Denver approaches the man who keeps following him when he’s finally close enough. Is he going to admit he likes it, or pretend to be angry because of the expectations others have of him? I sure hope he embraces it. No one should ever feel ashamed of what they want when it’s not hurting anyone. Never. If anything, they should give in and let go the moment they feel safe enough.
See you soon,
Z
Balling the paper in my fist, I look up, and the shadowy figure is gone. I check around the whole yard and come up empty-handed. No one is hiding anywhere I look. I’m alone out here. Bending down, I lift the money from the ground and pocket it along with the note. When did he leave this? Was it when I was showing him my stones outside? Was it tonight? Or was it after watching me fall apart against my window yesterday? Why am I wanting it to be all three?
Wait . . . it can’t have been the first one. I didn’t give him that book until just before he left my house. My skin vibrates, my cock twitching all over again. I search the area around me one more time, looking for more notes as I shove my fingers into the dirt of every pot. What more am I hoping to find? For him to say the person I’ve been seeing in my yard is real and that the only reason he knows is because it’s him?
Zavier isn’t some stalker. He’s not sneaking into my yard at night, hoping I’ll wake up while Daniel’s asleep to give him a show. But what if he is? And what if I want to give in and let go for him every time? What if he keeps reading my books becausehe wants to give me all I’ve been wanting from a man who will never oblige?
Does he think giving him those books is my way of choosing all this with him? I keep looking for him too and seeking him out, possibly cementing the idea more in his head.
“You’ll always get to with me.”
It’s not really happening. It can’t be. It would only be wrong if it was. But since it’s all in my head, like Daniel would tell me it is, then there’s nothing to really be concerned about. I don’t have a stalker and I’m not going behind my fiancé’s back or being deceitful. Everything is as it should be, and how I choose to release some tension while letting my imagination go wild is my business. I’m not hurting anyone by taking what I want, and I’ve never felt safer doing so. Zavier said it was okay and there’s some reassurance in that.
I walk back into the house, following Daniel’s heavy breathing, and glance behind me at my empty back yard. I was the only one out there, but I’m not alone in here, yet I feel lonelier than I did minutes ago. I pull out Z’s note again and touch each of his words, my hand lingering on the ones at the very bottom.
See you soon.
My head throbs as I tinker with the tea kettle. After minutes of fighting with it, the top finally unlatches. My motor skills are hurting today, and everything I do is taking double the time. I pour in the water, my eyes scanning the window before falling to the box left on my doorstep this morning with my new curtains. As I wait for the water to heat on the stove, I carry the large box to the table, feeling like there are weights in my shoes.
Shoving my fingers under the tape, I tug at it but give up when it refuses to budge. Grabbing a knife from the counter, my fingers tremble as I slice at the stubborn sticky plastic, and once the box is finally open, I remove the items I was so eager to get the day I ordered them—curtains, that once made me feel protected and secure. But leaving them off helps me breathe better, and so does the ability to find that pair of glowing eyes at night. The ones that tell me it’s okay to feel good and to want things others would crucify me for. Things I can always choose with him.
“Have you seen my watch?” An annoyed tone comes from behind me, reminding me Daniel will be here all day. I’ve wanted that before, haven’t I? His long working hours are something we’ve argued about before. How would it sound if I told him his presence is now a problem for me? Because of him I can’t hear more of Zavier’s thoughts about the last chapter of my book he read. I can’t go out into my garden and pretend he’s there while I touch places his hands have been.
“No,” I say, keeping my voice steady as I pull two mugs from the cabinet. “Maybe you left it in your car again.”
“Nah. I’ve looked everywhere and can’t find it. You sure you didn’t set it somewhere while cleaning? You know how particular you are about where everything goes.”
“I’m sure.” I fill a cup with hot water, dipping my tea bag halfway as I try to ignore his loud huffing around me.
“It’s not the only thing I’m missing. I had my badge last night and now I don’t. I need it for when I go back to work tomorrow.”
“Did you check your pockets?” My hand freezes halfway in the air, my fingers gripping the handle tighter.
“No . . . that’s a good idea, though.” Inching closer, he presses a kiss to my head. “Thanks, baby. See what a good rest does for you? A lot better than what it’s doing for me right now.” Hechuckles, pulling back. “You mind checking the bedroom for me again in case I dropped it on the floor somewhere?”
“Sure.”
“Oh, and maybe outside.”
I freeze, my heart stopping. “When were you last outside?”
“Earlier this morning when I came out to grab some water. I saw the sliding door half open.”
Glancing behind me, I look at him again. I closed it last night, but like before, I left it unlocked. Almost as if a part of me really needed to know someone was indeed there.
