“I’ve missed you, love,” he says softly over the top of my head. I can’t say I feel the same about him. I can do a lot of things, but reciprocating affection to somebody I don’t like isn’t one of them; I am an art major, not an actress. He’s the director and choreographer of this play, which just so happens to be my life. I despise him for all he’s done to me and all he still plans on doing to me.
He pulls back, scanning over my features. “Did you miss me?”
Is this man for real? He seems to be under the illusion we actually have a relationship! I close my eyes briefly and school my thoughts. I’m having one hell of a day, and I’m not in the mood for more conflict, not after what I just heard. “Nick, I don’t know you enough to miss you.” This is where I need to turn off the ignition to my motor mouth and keep it from running a crash course. In order to do so, I bite my bottom lip…hard.
Nick chuckles, and a lopsided grin appears. Using his thumb, he displaces my bottom lip from between my teeth. “Don’t be scared, love. I keep forgetting I’ve known you for over half a decade, and you’ve never met me before all this.” He then traces his finger along my eyebrows, smoothing out my worry lines. “Hey, don’t look so worried; I don’t bite.” I want to deride him and argue the case, but I’d only taunt him into a fight. He cocks his head to the side and gives me a reassuring smile. “Come, I have a nice birthday luncheon for you.” He puts his arm around me and guides me back through the hallway toward the gathering.
Nick pulls out a chair for me at a head table, and I sit down. As soon as Nick scoots me in toward the table, my eyes scan the room, and my sights lock on Travis. He’s openly flirting with a group of women, and I feel like puking all over again. His hateful words play like a broken record inside my head.
“Hey, love,” Nick whispers, pulling me out of my thoughts. He gently guides my chin to meet his gaze. “You sure you’re all right? You seem a million miles away right now.” I feel my hands begin to shake, so I twist my fingers in my lap. I lift the corners of my mouth to force a small smile.
Nick’s controlling behavior and unrealistic fantasies scare the shit out of me. Every signal I get from him points toward an obsessive neurosis. He’s fabricated his own false relationship with me. When I heard him ranting behind that closed door, and the way he was unleashing his fury on Travis, it only confirmed he’s a man who’s obsessed.
I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. “I guess my breakfast is still disagreeing with my stomach. You don’t think the cooks slipped up and cross-contaminated my food, do you?”
Nick’s brow furrows, and he looks a tad irritated at the thought. “They better not have. I will have a chat with the chef after lunch. I made specific arrangements to have your needs accommodated for. All of the people in the kitchen know to follow those orders specifically.”
A few waiters appear out of thin air holding trays of food and drinks. I smile politely when a waiter places a steaming hot plate of rice, chicken, and vegetables in front of me. I’m not feeling particularly hungry. Tension and anxiety has settled in my stomach, leaving a huge rock at the base of my gut. When he leaves, Nick places his hand over mine on my lap. He unclenches my fist and threads his fingers through mine. “You seem upset about something else. This is more than your stomach disagreeing with you.”
He looks at me expectantly as I reach for my glass of water and take a drink, purposely delaying my answer. Allowing the cool liquid to pool at the back of my sore throat, I swallow slowly, and then I try skirting along the truth. “I just wish I could have been at home with my family and friends today. I really miss my father.” Verbalizing the very thoughts I’ve been trying to suppress all morning only serves to taunt my brittle nerves. Suddenly, I’m exhausted and weary. With the emotional roller-coaster ride I’ve been on over the past week, then Travis leading me on with words only to turn around in the same day, totally dissing me; it’s the perfect recipe for a mental breakdown. I sigh in defeat and try to compose myself as my eyes want to fill with tears. I blink them a few times, suppressing the urge to fall apart.
“You are home, love. I am your family now,” he tenderly strokes my cheek and looks upon me with adoration, “and I will be the only friend you will ever need.” He leans in to give me a loving kiss on the lips and lingers there, breathing me in. In a soft, warm voice, he tells me, “I’ve decided today that Travis will no longer be the one to train you.” My eyes bulge at the thought of losing my security blanket, even though I really mean nothing to him. “Is that a problem for you, love?” Nick’s tone takes a left turn onto Jealous Street.