Page 30 of His Obsession
Alek pressed a button, and the garage door flipped open, allowing him to slip his car into its assigned spot. The garage didn’t appear to be owned by a typical man; it was in tip-top shape, no oil stains, no greasy tools, no sawdust from weekend projects. It was a place for cars to hide from view and nothing more. He pressed another button, and the garage door lowered, blocking us from the outside world. I kept my hands in my lap, trying to prepare myself.
This was happening. I saidyes. I was sitting in his car, at his home.
“Relax,” he said, trying to calm me down.
“It never ends well for the man who tells a woman to ‘calm down,’ I’m just saying.” I released a jagged breath, no longer wanting to leave the comfort of the car.
He opened his door and popped the trunk, pulling out my suitcases one by one. I got out with a scowl and helped him get the bags from the backseats. He grabbed a few and rolled them over to the door that led to the house and opened the white door—not a smudge mark in sight. I followed him with the remaining bags and stepped inside, the door closing with finality.
Stone stairs wrapped around the wall to the second floor with wire railings and replica paintings of Vincent Van Gogh’sStarry NightandAlmond Blossom,hanging above. They were my favorite paintings of all time. What were the chances they hung on his walls? Alek walked up the stairs, suitcases in his arms, and showed me the way to my room. Through the door on the left, farthest from the stairs, sat a picture window that overlooked the pool from my room. I plopped down on the soft mattress and took everything in.
The walls were a soft pastel yellow, the ceiling a swirling textured cream-color. The furniture was white, the bed duvet was the same, but stitched across it were large yellow sunflowers.
“The bathroom is here,” he said, opening the door in my room. “The closet is in there too. I’ll let you get settled in.” He moved to leave. “Do you need anything?”
I shook my head. “No. Thank you.” I was grateful just to have a bed to sleep on. For some reason, I imagined him living in a bachelor pad with one room and a couch. I had already convinced myself that the sofa would be my bed for the next few days.
“Well, I’m just down the hall. I’m going to get some sleep, and you should too.”
Sleep. That would not happen. Just the thought of laying my head down and closing my eyes induced a panic I didn’t want to experience. I glanced at the clock—two a.m. Lucy would come home soon to an empty house.
“Alek,” I said, lifting my gaze to meet his, “will you lay with me?Please.I know I don’t deserve your compassion, but I don’t want to be alone.”
Once the words left my mouth, I wanted to retract them. The sound of begging reminded me of when I was a child asking a foster mother to read me a bedtime story. The weakness in my voice made me ill. I didn’t appreciate exposing myself—it left you open for anyone to take advantage. Everyone had an agenda, and I tried not to become their opportunity. His hesitation fed into my emotional instability and caused self-doubt to eat me alive.
“I need to take a shower—”
“Yeah, sure, no problem, I just thought I’d ask. I’ll be fine.” The fire in my cheeks burned through more insecurities. So stupid. I couldn’t believe I asked him that.
He came over to where I was sitting and stroked his thumb against my chin. “I was going to say, I need to take a shower first. I’ll come back when I’m done.” A kind smile slipped his expression.
The butterflies hit my gut so hard I thought I could take off. “Okay.” I nod my head and look away to the floor.
He turned around and walked out of my room, the door clicking behind him. I sat on the edge of my bed while thoughts bombarded my mind. Eventually, I mustered enough energy to go through my suitcases until I found the one that contained my nightclothes.
I changed into a soft, cotton top and shorts that barely covered my ass cheeks and climbed in bed. Laying in the fresh, neat sheets, I stared at the cream cheese frosting swirls on the ceiling. They resembled something that you would knife over a cake—it would make Lucy’s mouth water. She loved cakes. She loved anything sweet, for that matter. I pulled out my phone and sent her a text.
Me: I’m staying at a friend’s house for a few days. Make sure you lock the door tonight. I’ll be in touch. ;)
I put my phone back on the nightstand and fought the need to close my eyes. I didn’t want to go to sleep before Alek came back. I needed the solace of knowing someone was there. I heard padded feet entering my room, and the smell of men’s body wash filled the room, before his warm arm wrapped around my waist, cradling me.
“Thank you for coming back.”
Alek said nothing as I settled into his arms, his body curled against mine.I’m such a hypocrite.
∞∞∞
The morning sun filtered through the curtains and the room glowed with a soft hue. I pulled my arms above my head, stretching my stiff, sore muscles. My eyes fluttered open, and I stilled. I recalled my pathetic behavior, asking Alek to sleep with me. I turned my head slowly, praying he wouldn’t be there but secretly hoping he would. I found, to my dismay, it was empty and cold. My sigh of relief sounded in the quiet room, and I rolled out of bed. The clock flashed its red lights, catching my attention—eight a.m. I reached for my phone, checking to make sure Lucy had gotten my message.
Lucy: I always lock the door, and I expect even the dirtiest details.
A gif of an old lady flashing an equally old man in their car played below her message. Good lord. I didn’t want to wake up to that.
No other messages. Who else would I get texts from? I was practically a loner.
I flipped through my news feed, not wanting to get up and face what I was expecting to be an exceedingly awkward, tension-filled conversation once I left this room. Bombings going off, and a massive shoot-out downtown. What they believed to be a rival gang retaliation was all over the headlines.
I never understood why gangs would fight over “turf” or “colors”—fighting over the colors of the rainbow was for the simple-minded. I tossed my phone on the bed, annoyed with the world and their corrupt bullshit. If you sat there long enough, they would convince you the world's end is nigh. That shit didn’t do anyone any good.