This part is mostly stale. It was only a little fresh on the outside. A façade to trick me into putting the whole thing in my mouth.
Fighting the reflex to gag, I stifle all thoughts of how the Oreo has instantly become a personification of everything wrong with my life. The underappreciated days of working here, ghosts of failed attempts to turn my life around—the latest being my app. And the fact that I always have been, and always will be single.
A shuffle from behind alerts me—my eyes pop open, and I stare at the growing shadow on the pantry wall straight in front of me.
A rather large shadow of a human figure.
My breath catches in my chest.
That’s notmyshadow!
My shadow is cute and petite. Never reflecting a pound over one twenty-five. Okay, maybe one forty-five, but I’m not a teenager anymore. Plus, I just wolfed down an Oreo! This shadow is much too shadowy to be one hundred and twenty-five—okay, forty-five pounds. It was more like two hundred with broody shoulders.
But I’m alone.
I had locked the front door, even pulling on the handle to double check it. I have had nightmares about this very moment. It always started the same. Me, a beautiful woman trapped alone here.
Which means . . .
Someone broke in!
My legs buckle while my adrenaline surges through my veins and all my senses are heightened.
I’m getting robbed!
“Are you eating company Oreos?” the shadow asked, not sounding the least bit concerned about my recent near-starving situation.
Oh no! My throat closes from panic, cinching my esophagus, and putting pressure on my airway. With my mouth still full, everything backed up. I can’t breathe through my nose. I swallow the Oreo, but it isn’t chewed enough. My hand flies to my throat as a gurgling noise crooks out.
This is bad!
I need water!
I stumble backward, gurgles crackling out of my throat as I bolt to the sink.
Where’s a cup?
My eyes rapidly inventory the shined stainless-steel sink and counter. The bare counter sparkles with perfect shine from the cleanup I had recently completed. Not one single stray cup. I do spot my French press in the center of the counter.That’s going to have to do!
I gurgle again. It’s not an attractive sound at all. Feet shuffle behind me, and the voice calls out, “Are you choking?” I wish witheverything in my soulI could answer that with a giant sarcastic,no,but I can’t force out even a peep. Now woozy, I need to do something! Panicking, I spin on my heel and flail forward.
A set of strong arms swoops in from behind. Hands lock below my ribcage. My last breath wrings out of my lungs like a dish rag twisting. I was either being attacked or Heimliched. With no breath left inside of me to fight, my body goes limp.
My ribs crackle from a gut punch. I’m still unsure if this is an attack, or the Heimlich.
Never had either.
A puff of air, I didn’t even know I had, rushes out of my lungs with enough force that I cough. My Oreo heaves out.
Hallelujah, I’m alive! I inhale deep breaths, falling to my knees to aid the process as I hold my chest.
I nearly died.
How’s that for karma for stealing?
I’m never doing that again!
But I’m rescued by this perfect stranger sent to me.
