She truly is daddy's girl. When her phone rings with his name, I watch her face light up—the same face hides with guilt when she catches my eye across the hall. We've become masters at avoidance, retreating to our separate rooms like monks to cells. Yet I find myself lingering in the kitchen when I hear her humming, and yearning desire even as I orchestrate those "accidental" brushes of fingers reaching for the same cabinet. Each touch feels like salvation and damnation in the same electric moment.
I doubt either one of us is sleeping well, but the restraints continue. At some point, she requested that I do not let my sister know that we are living together. It was fine with me. I prefer it too. I don’t need Maggie interfering before I get a chance to make her mine.
Jacob has become our buffer, though I dislike it when he eats the pastries she bakes and leaves crumbs all over the sofa while playing the Xbox.
Sometimes, I kick his ass out just so I can get a few minutes with Anu before she goes to hide in her room, talking to Nkem giggling. I have learned a few things: she truly dislikes doing her laundry. She doesn’t understand why everything must beorganized. Her bedroom is always tossed with clothes on her bed, and she dislikes spicy food but, most importantly, when it rains, she panics and hides in a corner with headphones on. I sat with her, watching her all evening till she slept the first time I witnessed it. She hums daily while drinking her tea, and every morning I listen to hear her. I still find myself happy each time I walk through the door and see her cuddled with a blanket and a cup of tea.
About a week after her return, I got a call.
“Hello.”
“This is Derin, Anu’s brother and I need to know why you are living with my sister,” he states. His tone is forceful.
“I’m her boyfriend.”
“Who left a well-furnished three-bedroom apartment empty to live with my baby sister.”
“Like I said, I’m her boyfriend.” I keep my tone neutral.
His voice rises. “Cut the bullshit. I know my sister; when she doesn’t want to alarm me or dad is when she pulls something like this, so spill.”
I can use this to my advantage, I think.
“I am her boyfriend and I’m living with her because she feels someone is following her, but she’s not sure and she doesn’t want to be alone.”
“I didn’t get that report.” Say what now?
“Are you watching her? Could it be your guys?”
“She knows subconsciously that I would’ve someone periodically check on her, so it must be something else.”
Now I’m worried about her too.
“I will have my guys keep an eye on her too.”
“Okay, but know that I’m watching you too. If you hurt my sister, I will come after you.”
“Noted,” I say. And I never would.
“Keep me posted if something comes up.”
“Will do.” I hang up and smile. I should have known that her brother wouldn’t just accept the fact a guy is living with her, but he seems to accept that I’m her boyfriend, so that’s good.Getting home that evening, I don’t mention my conversation with her brother.
Chapter 28
Daniel
I toss my pen, when my brain finally acknowledges that I’ve read the same paragraph about five times and still can’t comprehend what I read. I’m a damn good lawyer and I can read, yet I find myself stumbling and not comprehending anything I’ve read. I can’t concentrate, no matter how hard I try.
Patrick has avoided me for the most part of today, and fucking Aaron’s crude advice is for me to get laid or go piss in someone else’s coffee. The usual anger that would have flared within me was absent. Instead, I walked away. I’m sure he was as stunned as I was by my silent exit. The forceful slam of my office door echoing through the office was my goddamn response.Fuck him.
“Are you going to address what’s got you worked up?”
I sigh and relax into my chair that feels very uncomfortable. Though it’s designed for comfort and worth every penny, right now it feels like needles are poking me all over on this chair. Closing my eyes for a moment, the answer to my irritabilitycomes to me: “Anu”. My eyes flash open as the answer is revealed.
I haven’t seen her in four fucking days—looking at my watch—and ten long hours. I only spoke to her once for less than two minutes in four days. We’ve texted and that’s about it. I have traveled for two of the four and the remaining two she has spent at her friend’s place.
Every inch of me wants to see her. Finally, you admit the obvious.
