Emory
I pulled to a stop at the curb of a large split-level home, tall windows facing the street above the multi-car garage, a deep brown wood wrapping the whole home. It was set back from the street in a long driveway with a front lot full of mature trees. The neighborhood was quiet despite being just a block from a main road that led to the base. There were kids’ bikes and minivans parked in neighboring driveways, and it felt cozy but unfamiliar.
I gave myself one last once-over in my visor mirror before sliding it shut and turning off my engine. At least my hair had been salvaged by my friends and their patient fingers, carefully and meticulously untangling the matting that had consumed the entire underside of my head. I left it in braids, afraid I’d end up needing to chop it off if I left it to get so matted again.
My instinct was to put the car in drive and get the fuck out of here. Run away. Hide. Bury. Choke back all the truths I knew Enoch was going to ask of me.
But this was my last chance.
And it was what I owed him, wasn’t it? I’d put him through hell. If he really wanted to know me, then he should know all thereasons why he shouldn’t. Why he should finally move on. Let me go. So that when I finally got the courage to pull the trigger, I’d leave this world knowing that he wasn’t going to be holding onto my memory anymore.
I didn’t want to be the weak puta I was five years ago when I left those voicemails. I didn’t want to be her anymore. I wasn’t. I was Emory Crawford. Shiloh Magdalena Tellez was dead.
It took every ounce of willpower to shove myself from my seat and walk up the driveway. I double-checked the gold house numbers hanging to the right of the door, nervous I was at the wrong address, before pressing the doorbell.
I heard the ring echo inside, and I peered through the large window just beside the door. Through the open blinds I could just make out a hallway and a staircase. My stomach turned and knotted, nausea bubbling up. I fidgeted with the strap of my crossbody bag, unable to stand still as I impatiently waited for someone to answer the door.
I heard the soft thud of footsteps, saw the shape of him running down the stairs and I righted my body, so I was no longer peering in through the window when the door unlocked.
In a blink we were standing face to face, Enoch’s chest rising and falling rapidly as if he’d sprinted the whole way to the door.
“Hi,” he said breathlessly. He paused and cleared his throat, taking in the street over my shoulder, probably looking for my parked car, before shooting me a smile that made my heart skip a beat.
He stepped to the side, “Come in.”
I tried to give him a smile as I passed by him and into the house. I immediately noticed the mismatched flooring that abruptly changed at the staircase. The ground floor was covered in what looked to be grey wood laminate, while the staircase was covered in a rust orange carpet and matched the honey wood banister that covered the height of the walls that led to thesecond floor. The honey wood was a frequent accent, from the doors to the baseboards.
Enoch was too perceptive to miss my gaze, and he scrubbed the back of his neck, shutting and locking the front door behind us.
“Yeah, it’s a work in progress. We’ve been focusing on the shared living space upstairs. You can leave your shoes on the rack.”
I nodded, my mind tripping over his use of the word ‘we’. My eyes immediately flicked to his left hand.No ring. I slipped off my sneakers, leaving them on an empty space on the shoe rack just beneath the window I had been peeping through moments earlier. He gestured for me to follow him up the stairs and I ascended behind him, blinking in shock as the upstairs was a complete contrast to the entrance.
“Damn,” I mumbled to myself as I stopped on the landing. Windows lined three of the four walls of the open plan kitchen and living space. The orange carpet was gone, light wood flooring in its place. A large sectional took up the space to the right in front of a stone fireplace. The kitchen was spread across the left wall, which included a large sliding glass door that led to a deck. The dark green cabinetry and stone counters added warmth to the space that was teeming with the orange glow of the sun shining through the windows.
Enoch’s chuckle shook me from my stupor, and I climbed the final steps until I was standing in the middle of the open plan living space.
“That orange carpet really doesn’t do this house any favors. I mean,” I tipped my head up, noticing the two skylights where I could see white fluffy clouds in the sky, “this is stunning.”
I looked down to find Enoch beaming at me.
“About two months ago you would have been standing in a sunken living room with wall-to-wall orange carpet.”
“Sheesh. I hope you got a steal on the house for all the work you’re having to put in to modernize it.”
Enoch nodded. “Just don’t be surprised when you see the bathroom down the hall. This is the only space we’ve gotten the time and money to fix up, so far.”
I laughed lightly.There’s that ‘we’ again.“Alright. I’ll keep the bar low for the rest of the house.”
“Um,” Enoch cleared his throat awkwardly, “are you hungry?”
No. Not in the slightest. I was still uncertain if I was going to need to excuse myself to the bathroom to puke.
I shrugged and he licked his lips. “Okay,” he said, absently brushing his hands on his jeans. “You want something to drink?”
“Sure.”
He crossed into the kitchen and opened the fridge.
