And yet, I dream of him. At the lake. At the diner. In this very house, but in a much more comfortable bed. Back when he’d smile at me, tease me, tempt me back into his lair. I dream of making love to him the way he showed me it could be done; sweet, slow, gentle, and so fucking nice. Then I imagine him doing that, but with the remains of a shredded leg and potent anger in his eyes while he strangles me with my own shirt collar.
* * *
Four hours after lying down,I wake with tears on my cheek, but with a plan to get things done. Sliding off the edge of the tall bed, my toes touch the plush carpet and remind me to be happy for the small things.
Still in panties and his shirt, I shuffle along the hall with wild hair and a racing heart. I don’t talk myself down from crying for him, because who knows how many chances I’ll get to be with his things, in his home, and be able to cry without someone being weird about it? I’m allowed to feel what I feel, especially when it’s just me and Nacho here, and especially when I think of him waking in that hospital room right now.
His leg won’t have grown back overnight, and I doubt his anger will have dissipated.
I’ll have to stop and act like everything is okay again. Soon, the troops will drop by, Ben will be on the front lawn checking in on me, so I have until then to let the tears fall. I allow that weakness, I allow myself time to grieve, but I don’t stop standing tall, and I don’t slink away from Riley’s bedroom at the top of the hall.
Stealing a pair of thick socks from the chest of drawers, I step back onto hardwood floors and head to the kitchen. I used to be an eight-hours-a-night kind of girl back before I met Riley,minimum,but my need to make his home safe trumps my ridiculous high-maintenance lifestyle, so I trip my way to the kitchen and mash the buttons on the coffee machine until it starts grinding and the scent of caffeine helps bring me back to reality.
I help myself to his kitchen the way I would Lindsi’s. I take a coffee mug down from the cabinet that boasts a police badge and his mocking rank in white writing. ‘ROOK.’ Then I move to the fridge and take out the milk.
Despite how thoroughly Kit scrubbed the fridge, it still holds a small tinge of rancid egg stench like the smell got into the plastic. It’s not awful, just present, but the coffee is still the most powerful force in the kitchen this morning, so whatever.
My feet smart at the cold floors, and my hair tickles my neck, tempting me to check a mirror.
I’m not ready to see how bad I look, so I don’t. I just drop the mug beneath the coffee spout and lean over the machine while it sputters and fills. Nacho didn’t follow me out of the room, so I don’t bother grabbing her breakfast yet. I wait for the machine to come to a grinding stop, and with a drop of milk and sugar, I toss the milk back into the fridge and move back into the hall. Shuffling past the guest bedroom and Nacho’s muted snores, I stop at Riley’s bedroom door and take a deep breath, because being in here makes me miss him with the deepest yearning I’ve ever felt for anything in my life.
More than I yearned for fun.
More than I yearned for my graduation.
More than I’ve ever yearned for Lindsi or the babies.
Riley came in and ruined everything, because he unknowingly stomped on everyone and pushed them down a step to make room for himself at the top of my pile.
I never agreed to falling in love. I never agreed to pushing my whole world down a step to make room for a man, but here we are; my heart jumped anyway.
Stopping by the closet with slow movements, I move down to my knees and meet Ninja’s wary eyes. The way she watches me makes me think she was waiting for me. Whether the coffee machine woke her, or my footsteps, whatever it was, she’s wide awake and watching me through eyes that say she’s in pain.
Luckily, it doesn’t smell in here.
Reaching an arm in, the grief that sits in my heart turns to a fast drum when she allows me to pat her ears. “We’re going to be just fine, aren’t we? I’ll give you a couple more hours, but then I’m going to need you to come out so we can visit the vet. I promise I won’t let the mean doctors hurt you.”
Standing again when Nacho’s nails on the hallway floor announce she’s awake, I move into the bathroom and find the package of screws sitting on the toilet seat. The screws I absolutely couldn’t find last night sit on the damn toilet seat and mock me.
“Yeah. Funny.” I look to the sky. “Thanks, universe.” I snatch up the stupid packet and tear them open. With a long chug of my coffee until I burn every last taste bud from my tongue, I set the mug on the sink and get to work finishing the chair.