But one thing is for sure—I have to tell him before they’re prying Sonny from my arms. That dream has been haunting me all day.
I still haven’t heard anything from my father since I visited him in the shit motel. I keep jumping to the conclusion that he’s dead, that the stalker got him, but it’s only been a day since he was over here demanding to know where he was hiding, so that can’t be the case. Yet.
I’m out in the garden watering the flowers that I planted—back when Caleb and I were avoiding each other, when a bee lands on my hand.
I hold my breath, waiting for it to bite, but instead it takes off and flies away.
Until next time.
Seeing as though Caleb is off from work, I decide to take his truck and drive to the scene of the crime—my house. Or what remains of it.
My car is still parked on the street, back from when Caleb coaxed me into his with his good looks and charm.
I smooth my hands over the steering wheel of his truck and give myself permission to bask in his scent. It’s everywhere, clinging to the seat of his car, all over the steering wheel. It either sends me into relaxation mode, or has my heart breaking. No in-between.
I park in front of the property and look at what used to be my home.
The children’s lives were on the line last night, and I refused to tell the stalker where my father was hiding. Why am I hesitating when there’s never been any love present between us? I spent my whole life walking on eggshells around my father. Because of him, I learned to rely only on myself, and be skeptical about asking for help from others, because everything was transactional.
It’s time for my father to pay. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell the stalker the truth.
I stare at my ruined house and recall the amount of times I’ve wanted to pack my stuff up and leave with Sonny. There is more out there, and I was determined for Sonny and me to see the world together.
But ever since the fire, I haven’t thought about leaving once.
I grimace through the window, knowing that the fire has nothing to do with me wanting to stay…
Caleb walked back into my life and I’ve been unable to think of anything but what we used to have.
I place my hand over my stomach again. What if things are finally starting to fall into place? What if me getting pregnant is the universe’s way of forcing me to trust in Caleb again?
I pop open the driver’s side door and step out of the truck. A balmy breeze blows through the street, but I turn cold as soon as I look at my house.
Being back here feels strange, but it’s necessary. Rubble is everywhere, making it hard to recognize my old home. Sonny and I lived peacefully here together for nine years, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. Getting out of town was supposed to make us feel complete, I was sure of that. But I stand here now and know that a part of me has always felt incomplete without Caleb.
I hobble through the rubble on my sprained toe, which is starting to see some improvement, and my chest tightens as I near the front door. There’s no longer a door there, but a gap which I duck under to enter what used to be my hallway.
The place is a wreck—expected. But I didn’t expect there to be new occupants. Spiders. They’re all over my kitchen—what’s left of the room, anyway. I venture in as much as I can, the smell of soot heavy in my nose, and feel my throat close in as I remember myself boiling that sunflower oil. The stove, of course, remains somewhat intact, which can’t be said for the wooden worktops around it.
I tread carefully, reminding myself that I don’t want another repeat of the forest incident.
I make it to where the documents were all piled up on the table. None of them survived the fire, and neither did the acetone.
I maneuver out of the kitchen and head back to the front door, seeing if I can find the break-in signs. Mind, I don’t exactly know what I’m looking for here. I run my hand up the black wall a couple of times before calling it a day. The acrid smell of smoke is in my lungs, sending me back to a time I’d rather not think about. A time when I could have lost my son.
I head back out into the daylight, and that’s when I see a black pair of boots cutting me off. I follow the shoes up to the face.
Shit.
Obviously, the stalker’s not wearing a mask this time. I can see the black eye as clear as my future, and neither are looking bright. Caleb did some damage to the man, and the man lookspissed.
He looks terrifying too, like a pirate.
“This is your last chance to tell me where your father is before I escalate.”
I find some comfort in knowing that Caleb is at home with the kids.
“And how do you intend to escalate this?”
