As Max and Abby head toward the front door of the restaurant, I turn to Logan. “You’re closing all week?”
“Oh, yeah.” Logan nods. “Max needs me to close all week with Natalie.”
“With Natalie?” I bite the inside of my cheek, reminding myself to be rational. I knew Logan was training Natalie. Why would this be any different?
“Yeah, Max wants me to make sure Natalie feels comfortable before we have our meetings with Gavin James next week.” The muscles of his jaw tense, and I can tell he’s confused by my line of questioning.
“That makes sense.” I nod. The words in the email I received the other day flicker in my mind like an old movie reel. This whole night has been fucked-up to say the least. I’m not trusting of my own reactions. I can tell I’m pushing Logan away, inch by inch. Every word has only pushed him farther. It’s a runaway train I can’t seem to stop.
I breathe in a heavy breath, grabbing my purse off the back of the chair. “Are you ready to go home?”
“Yeah.”
We ride the whole way in silence. When we’re finally back home, I have Logan help unzip the back of my dress in the bathroom. His hand moves slow and cautious, like he’s savoring this moment between us, bottling it up. I can tell he’s taking his time, using patience as his breath ghosts the skin of my neck. The silence between us starts to swell, filling every surface and corner of our house. It’s partially comforting, partially suffocating.
His hand stops when he’s made it to the bottom of the zipper. My back is exposed and I glance over my shoulder, looking at him. He keeps his hand resting on my lower back. His eyes slowly find mine. I open my mouth, ready to tell him I’m sorry for making the rest of the night awkward. I try but the words never come out.
I can sense Logan is tired and feeling helpless. His shoulders fall and his hand slips away. “You’re all set,” he says.
“Thank you.” It’s the only words I manage to say, hoping he feels the weight of them. I feel like I’m submerged underwater, a heavy weight tied around my ankle, preventing me from swimming to the surface.
Logan backs away and heads to our bedroom. When I come out of the bathroom, he’s already buried under the sheets. He’s facing the wall, his back to me. I crawl in the bed, trying not to make too much noise as I shift to get comfortable.
I turn on my side, facing the opposite way from Logan when my phone chimes from my nightstand. I pick it up, finding a text from Abby and an email notification.
My heart races and I sit up in the bed. I glance over my shoulder, making sure Logan is still asleep. His hushed breaths are steady and calm. He’s fast asleep.
I open the text from Abby first.
Abby: Can’t wait to see you tomorrow!
I leave Abby’s text unanswered, staring at the six words until they begin to blend together. Her text leaves me confused.
Why is she pretending like telling that story was meaningless?
After looking at the text longer than I should, I exit out and click on the email. I’m praying it’s some trash email, another one of the thousand emails I receive offering me a discount on a product I’ll never have a use for.
My heart sinks into the bottom of my stomach and chills prickle down my spine. It’s another anonymous email. Only this time, it’s longer than the last.
Have fun tonight? You should wear that dress more often. Did your husband love it just as much as I did?
You know, for once I agree with Logan. Abby really shouldn’t have told that story. It’s a memory I wish we could forget. But I don’t think it quite works that way, Lena. We can’t erase our pasts. No matter how hard we try.
Until next time, my love.
My phone slips through my hands, dropping to the floor with a dull thud. I immediately sit up, tossing the blankets to the side like they’re engulfed in flames, incinerating my skin. I don’t pick up my phone, staring at it lying on my floor. The screen is lit, glowing from the still open email.
I cover my mouth with both hands, holding back the scream begging to be released from my throat.
Logan hasn’t moved. He hasn’t even twitched. I snap my head to the bedroom door, sprinting down the stairs. I don’t even bother to check the app on my phone to trust the system is locked.
Panicked, I read the panel by the front door, making sure it’s set to secure. I reread the words three times over. Then my hands are flying to the three bolt locks, turning them tighter and tighter.
A pressure falls against my chest and I lift my hand, pressing my palm against the frantic beating of my heart.
What is happening? Was Julian at the restaurant?
He had to have been, or else he wouldn’t have said the exact words Logan said to me in the hallway.
Abby really shouldn’t have told that story.
After making sure the entire house is locked, I walk back up the stairs with my arms wrapped around my waist, my mind focused on taking each step at a time. Slow and calculated.
When I’m back in my bedroom, Logan is still sound asleep. Silently, I crawl back under the sheets and lay there until the sun comes up and I can no longer fight to keep my eyes open.
Eleven
Lena
The street where Abby’s business is located is nearly as empty as the first time I met her here.
I didn’t want to meet her at her office. The place gave me the chills. The smell alone was enough to keep me away. Not to mention the dark, mold covered walls and dusty windows.
But Abby’s insistence that we meet at her office building won out over my aversion to the place. I
