Page 72 of From That Moment

Prior knew who I was and liked it. He saw my strengths and my weaknesses, and he didn’t put me down because of them. He helped me elevate myself somehow.

I didn’t know how that had happened, how I found myself wanting to be near him even when we had just seen each other. Yet here I was, thinking about him as I sat in my house and waited for him to show up. We weren’t even going out on a date. We were going to make dinner together and watch a movie and probably make out and then go to bed.

Okay, and have sex. I wanted some hot, dirty, sweaty, kinky sex.

That’s what I loved.

I thought maybe Iwasfalling in love with him.

I still couldn’t quite believe that I was sitting here on my couch, waiting for…gasp…my boyfriend to come to my house so we could have an at-home date.

I had thought going on blind dates set up by my friends because of our pact would send me down a new path, and I had been right.

I honestly didn’t think I would see Prior the way I was now if he hadn’t been there for those last two horrific dates.

He had seen me at my most embarrassed, and my worst, and he hadn’t left.

And that was everything.

I didn’t know what would happen next with us or even with work now that Benji was gone. It felt like something had shifted, it had changed.

Maybe I could be happy.

My doorbell rang, and I grinned, thinking of exactly what Prior and I would get up to later. I had been relaxing and thinking so much that I hadn’t started getting dinner ready. I liked messing with Prior near the fridge when we tried to figure out what we needed to make.

Knowing us, we’d end up simply making out and ordering in.

I wouldn’t mind that either.

I opened the door without looking and froze.

Screams filled my mind, bile coated my tongue, and I started shaking. My fingers dug into the wood of the door, and I forced myself to see the man in front of me.

He looked as if he’d aged at least thirty years, even though it hadn’t been nearly that long. He had deep grooves near his eyes, deeper ones near his mouth from where he frowned, but no smile lines. He had gone bald on the sides, the rest of his hair now gray.

He’d gained weight in his belly, yet still looked the same somehow. Maybe a little weaker.

No, I was wrong.

He looked smaller. Was it because he’d aged? Because I knew his fists couldn’t hurt me anymore? He was so different. He wasn’t the man of my nightmares, and yet, he was. Standing here in the flesh, holding me captive.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I croaked out, surprised how I could even speak at all.

“I didn’t know if I should call first.”

“Are you kidding me? Get out of here. I’m going to call the police. You can’t be here.”

“I know. I know I’m not supposed to be here, and I won’t be here for that long. I need to talk to you.”

If he was here, that meant he had broken his parole, right? He wasn’t allowed to be near me. Right? I couldn’t even remember the rules. Maybe he had done this before. Had he been the one to attack me?

I started to shake and then went to close the door. I looked at his face, at the evident sorrow there, and all I felt was pity. Pity and fear, and I wanted this to end.

A car pulled up behind mine, and Prior got out, confusion on his face. Then he narrowed his eyes and stormed towards us.

“Paris?”

“I’m okay. It’s just Skeeter. My dad.”