Anger boils inside me once again. I think about Lena and how it seems as if everything around me is falling apart.
I steel my face and narrow my eyes, hoping she understands every single word. “You should have thought about that before you kissed me.”
Natalie’s mouth falls open and she releases a small gasp of air. I don’t stay, jumping in my car, not wanting to give her another chance to stop me.
I drive all the way home in silence, allowing it to swallow me whole. Guilt ebbs its way in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t ask for Natalie to kiss me and I certainly didn’t want her to. But her kiss also allows me to question every interaction I’ve had with her up to this point. What did I do that gave Natalie the impression that I liked her in any way other than our boss-employee relationship? I think back, nit-picking and scrutinizing every move.
Had I given Natalie the wrong impression? Maybe I was somehow doing it subconsciously, too distracted by the problems I was having with my marriage.
But I also think about the immediate regret pooling in her eyes. Natalie was young and just at the beginning of her career. What would make her jeopardize it so easily?
Fifteen
Lena
The time on my phone reads just past two a.m. when I hear Logan walk into the bedroom. His footsteps are soft and muted on the carpet but he may as well be walking in with heavy lead boots pounding on hardwood.
It’s as if every sound has been amplified, my ears picking up on even the smallest of sounds. Every sway of a tree branch and every creak of the hardwood floors downstairs, I hear. I’ve been lying in bed for the past two hours, staring at the door to the bedroom like I do every night. I lay here, under the blankets, staring at the bedroom door until Logan comes in.
I always leave the light off, allowing the room to be engrossed in darkness. I lay in bed with my eyes open, Logan never knowing the difference, assuming I was already asleep. He usually crawled into bed after undressing, turning his back toward me and leaving a considerable distance between us. Only then did I feel comfortable closing my own eyes, feeling protected. A part of me felt at peace knowing tonight was the last night he’d be training Natalie.
But tonight was different than all the nights before. Instead of undressing and climbing into bed, Logan makes a beeline for the bathroom. He shuts the door behind him, followed by a soft clicking of the doorknob. Light filters from underneath the door, pouring across the floor like a cloud of fog. I sit up, clutching the blankets to my chest. My stomach twists with an ache. Without noticing, I lift my hand to my mouth and press my thumbnail between my teeth, biting down. My nail bends under the pressure, my jaw clenching. I don’t know what I’m waiting for. A sign of some sort. An affirmation my worst fear isn’t happening before my eyes.
I stay on the bed, still clutching on to the blanket and biting down on my nail as if it’s the only thing keeping me anchored to my reality. I’m afraid to move, afraid that if I do, I’ll shatter into a thousand pieces. My eyes sting from staring at the light flooding from under the door, tears springing in the corners as I blink. I listen as Logan turns on the shower, the rhythmic sound of the water echoing in the bedroom. A cloud of steam comes through the opening under the door.
When the water turns off, I wait to hear the shower door opening before lying back down, burying myself under the blanket again. Logan turns off the bathroom light before he comes back into the bedroom.
This time I’m facing the window, watching the tree branches sway with the breeze, their shadows dancing across the glass.
The blanket shifts behind me and the mattress dips as Logan slides under the covers. I hold my breath, waiting to see what he does. I can tell he’s lying on his back because his arm is resting behind me. Goose bumps form along my spine, feeling his touch ghosting along my skin. My heart races and my back engulfs into flames. His heat radiates around me, the tension growing in the air. He doesn’t know I’m awake. I make sure to stay still. Mostly because I don’t want him to know I’m awake, but the other reason digs deep in my soul, tearing at my heart and pulling it apart. It’s the closest we’ve been these last few days and I’m afraid if I move, he’ll retreat.
His slow breaths hang above us like heavy weights. I press my lips together and close my eyes, willing the tears not to spill. He’s so close, his arm nearly touching my skin, but I’ve never felt him as far away as he is now.
I begin drifting away, the weight of sleep taking me over. But just before the sounds begin to silence and my mind shuts off, I hear Logan’s voice for the first time tonight.
“I love you, Len.” His voice is a faint whisper and if I hadn’t been lying so still and teetering on the edge of sleep, I wouldn’t have heard him. “Goodnight,” he adds.
I swallow as he shifts behind me, turning the opposite way, my back growing cold from his absence.
Bacon and coffee.
The two aromas I smell when I first wake up the next morning. I turn over, assuming I’d find Logan still sleeping behind me. I didn't expect him to be awake so early in the morning after coming home as late as he did.
I slide my arms into my robe and quietly walk down the stairs. It’s barely sunrise but the morning rays are beaming in bright through our windows. Logan’s opened all the curtains, undoing my latest ritual.
