I thought back to how he’d felt when we were making love the night before, recalling the perfect touch of his hands and mouth. I felt weak just remembering. Nothing in his body had said he was cooling on me. But not responding right away to my messages, not responding at all, was not the norm.
The day dragged after that, and I found myself checking my phone every ten minutes, which really annoyed me, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I liked Jerry a lot. A lot. I couldn’t believe my sister would try to steal him away from me. Most sisters would say no if their sister’s boyfriend hit on them, even if they liked him. But once again, I realized how little I knew my sister. I suppose the rational way to look at it was to recognize that if he liked her, it didn’t matter whether or not she hooked up with him. It still meant he and I were over, and that hurt much more than I’d expected.
Tanya and I ate linguine and clams for dinner, the clams fresh that morning from one of our suppliers. We drank two bottles of wine, although most of the second bottle went down Tanya’s throat, not mine.
I went to bed tired and headachy and feeling like crying because I still hadn’t heard from Jerry. I lay there staring into the darkness, feeling the cool sheet beside me.
Against my better judgement, maybe I’d had more wine than I wanted to admit; I sat up and turned the light back on. I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and sent him a text: Miss you beside me. Sleep good. Then I added a heart and a kissy emoji. I told myself not to expect an answer. He was with his friend. He would see it later. I was just being affectionate, no strings, no expectations. And then, I proceeded to toss and turn for an hour, checking my phone every five minutes. There were no messages. Finally, I fell asleep.
At three, I woke abruptly. I’d heard a noise that came from outside my dream. I was sure of it. Somewhere close by. My hand was stiff, and I realized I’d fallen asleep clutching my phone. There were still no messages from Jerry, and I felt like a fool for my desperation, so pathetic that I couldn’t realize my grip on the phone, even in sleep.
I got up, shaking, whether from fear or dehydration, I wasn’t sure. I put on my robe and went to the door. I stood listening to the sounds of the house. It was silent. Almost too silent. I should have heard wood creaking, tile settling. Something.
I stepped into the hallway and went to the landing. The living room was dark and empty, as far as I could see. Now that I was alert enough to be standing, I remembered that after the intrusion, I’d been even more methodical than usual in setting the alarm. There was no one in the house. It was impossible. I laughed softly, but the tremor in my laughter told me I was still scared.
Slowly, I walked down the stairs, trying to make my footsteps soft. Listening.
In the living room, I walked toward the window. I was frantic to know if he was out there. At the same time, I was terrified to see him, and I didn’t want to get so close to the window that I’d be fully exposed. The problem was, from where I stood, it was impossible to see the other side of the street.
I moved closer, clutching my robe with both hands, pulling it tightly around me as if that would protect me from his invasive eyes, from those hands that had crept through my things, and those footsteps that whispered on the pavement behind me when I went out alone.
As I’d known he would be, he was standing across the street, staring at the house. I let out a little yelp and jumped. I wasn’t even sure why. Nervous energy, I guess. I’d absolutely known he would be there. Even at this hour. He was insane. I shivered.
I took a few steps closer and looked out again.
He looked directly at me, then raised both his hands in front of him, his arms straight. He curled his hands and moved them quickly from side to side as if he were strangling someone, shaking her lifeless body.
Chapter 16
In the morning, I was exhausted, and the weariness showed itself in the mirror. I put on more than my usual makeup, but it didn’t do much good. I walked out of the bathroom thinking I shouldn’t have bothered.
As I poured coffee into my favorite mug, bearing the photo of a Golden Retriever puppy like the one I hoped to adopt one day, I was aware that Tanya was deep in sleep. I saw no point in waking her to tell her about Dave’s horrific pantomime because all she would do was whimper about how scared she was and then refuse to do anything about it. She was in a silent standoff with that guy, and I was starting to believe they both liked it that way, if like is the right word. What I still didn’t get was why I had been dragged into it?
I drove to work, forcing myself to ignore my phone, even at traffic lights, even when it vibrated. I was not going to spend another day like a little puppy, begging for attention and affection. When I pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine, it turned out both incoming messages had been from John, sending minor updates about stocking issues.
Jerry had evaporated out of my digital universe.
After the long, hectic workday was over, I sat in my car and stared at my phone, wondering what had happened. Sickened now by the fixation on my jealousy, I finally had a different
