Page 30 of Fragile Touch (Fragile 1)
“Who says there will be a next time?” She was surprised, not to mention impressed, that she was able to make light humor while coming out of a pain flare.
“Someone’s playing hard to get,” he replied sarcastically.
“Who, me?” Lillian bent to pull her shoes on. “See you soon, Cayden. Thank you for the water.”
“Be careful,” he directed, opening the door for her.
She waved him off as she crossed his yard and neared her house. Before she went inside, she turned to look back at his porch. He still stood there, watching her, and when he saw she was back in her home territory he closed the door behind him.
A familiar scuffling noise reached her ears and grew louder; the cats bolted to the door, tripping over each other in their race to reach her. Loud meows filled the air and she bent to pet them. “I missed you, babies,” she rubbed their heads. “I didn’t mean to be gone so long.” It really was an accident.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket; it was the alarm, set for 8:00. Cayden’s biological clock had been right on time.
I need to ask him how to make that work for me. 8 a.m. and I feel better than I normally do.
That made sense, though; by the time they’d fallen asleep, it was well before midnight. She had only gone over there around dinnertime.
Oh. That explains the hunger. For a moment she debated going back over for breakfast, but decided against it and pulled her muesli out from the cabinet. Work, medicine, cats. Another time...maybe.
With that, she opened the first of her daily medicines.
“THANK YOU, CLAIRE. See you in the morning.” About to press the end button, she rolled her eyes when she heard more talking and held the phone nearer. Claire didn’t quit rambling for another two minutes so, while listening, Lillian poured her coffee and swallowed a prescription pain pill.
At last, the blabbering came to an end. “I understand; I think a compartment inside the staircase is a great idea. Let me think about it over tonight and give you a few more ideas in our meeting tomorrow.” Feeling a tiny twinge of guilt for being so eager to get off the phone, she added, “I think the staircase idea would be a really efficient use of space in your home.”
Claire showered thanks, and Lillian had to stop her before it led to another rant. “All right, Claire. I’ll see you at 10 tomorrow. Yes, in the morning. I’ll be there. Have a good night.” She ended the call almost before she said goodbye, and propped her feet up on the corner of the table. “Geez, does the woman ever stop talking?”
Suddenly paranoid the phone was still connected, she lit up the screen and let out a sigh of relief to see that it wasn’t. She let out a groan and let herself lounge there for a few minutes, recuperating.
What has he been doing? Her spontaneous “adventure” with Cayden happened three days ago. She hadn’t heard from him. Maybe he’s waiting on me. But I’m waiting on him. Who’s going to make the first move?
She hoped it wasn’t her.
In their time of silence, she had been thinking nonstop about him and their relationship—whatever kind of relationship it was—even while she was with clients. First the throw-up incident, then her drunken grief...
Amelia. Her former roommate was the last person she wanted to be thinking about right now, but every time the memory of her getting drunk and Cayden finding her on the floor of the porch came back it was tied to those vivid flashbacks of the time they lived above the nightclub.
The night Amelia saved me from the bad things. That scarred her even now. She knew it happened all the time, guys trying to slip roofies into drinks or being too forceful toward a girl who didn’t want to talk, but that didn’t make processing it any speedier. Being cornered against a wall in a dark nightclub was weirdly hopeless; everyone thought they were just another couple making out. Until Amelia saw, and knew instantly that it was all wrong.
Lillian smiled. That guy’s night had not ended well. That nightclub was literally her home turf, and Amelia was very protective of it.
They never saw that guy again. And Lillian never went back to that club except in the broad daylight before it was officially open. Reg the bartender was a great guy, and she always enjoyed talking with him.
The emotions started to come back. What an equally good and terrible time, Lillian thought. Back then, she had gotten into the habit of sleeping in headphones on nights where the music kept her awake. Rent was cheap but the apartment was far from nice and not in a great area. And she had Amelia and Reg.
I wonder how Reg is doing, she thought, getting up to find a snack. I wonder what it would be like to go back to that place and see our old stomping grounds.
Sometimes she felt like she was still talking to Amelia. Maybe she was, in a way.
She opened the cabinet and the first thing she saw was the bottle of gin. Where did I even get that? How long ago? There was no telling where it came from; she was clueless.
“I don’t need that,” she told herself, and reached for some bread. “This will help me.” I hope tonight the pain isn’t as bad as last night. Perhaps her incessant thoughts about Cayden were giving her too much stress, sending her body into a downward spiral. Her prescriptions were barely keeping her intact, and some foods that normally didn’t react with her had been misbehaving.
Just a ham sandwich. I shouldn’t feel bad after eating that. Scrutinizing every detail of her food, she finally deemed the sandwich safe to eat and scarfed it down. This is miserable. I shouldn’t have to worry so much. She washed the plate, laser-focusing on her stomach as if she were waiting for that cold, lightheaded feeling to come back. Her muscles tightened in fight-or-flight mode, ready to sprint if she felt the least bit sick.
It’ll be okay. Casting a long look at the bottles of prescriptions and vitamins and supplements on the counter, she let out a sigh. “You know,” she said to Black Cat, who was asleep on the back of the sofa, “I think what would do me the most good is having someone to talk to. A real human someone, not a cat. No offense.”
Black Cat didn’t move.
