All that’s in my head are all the times Blake called me stupid or made fun of me for being excited about something. Or called me fat and told me I wished I looked like so-and-so’s wife. Or the times when he did get so mad, he would hit me. Or push me. Or choke me just enough that I’d almost lose consciousness, then he’d stop and tell me I was weak.
And all the times, instead of yelling, he’d ignore me completely. Act like I wasn’t even in the house at all. That was one of his favorite types of punishments because, when we were first dating, I made the mistake of telling him I felt like I was ignored by my mom a lot, since she was always working or with her new boyfriends. I told him how much that hurt me and how I was still triggered by it.
I told him in hopes that he’d understand if I reacted poorly, should he do that at some point, but instead, he weaponized it against me. Sometimes, that kind of betrayal hurts worse than the physical pain. Not only because he used it much more often, but because he did so intentionally. He did it with callous disregard for how it would affect me.
With all of that in my mind, I release some of the guilt I’ve been carrying around all week at how little sadness I’ve felt. I replace it with a resolve to never let anyone treat me like that again and to always make sure I’m safe in whatever relationship comes next.
My hand freezes on its path to open one of the drawers when Chris filters into my mind, chasing away the heavinessof Blake. I bite my lip and shake my head. I need to get that under control before I make a fool of myself.
I begin my search through every nook and cranny I can think of. There isn’t much here. A few papers are in some of the drawers that I pile on the desk to look through later. A sticky note stuck to the front of an empty manila folder that I add to the top of the papers.
Once I finish with the desk, I move to the file cabinet, which is mostly empty. Except that the bottom drawer is locked.
“Did the cops not break into this?” I mutter to myself, looking around the office for something I can use to pick the lock since I didn’t find any keys anywhere I’ve looked so far.
Spotting a small container of paperclips on the desk, I grab a couple and sink to my knees in front of the filing cabinet.
“Surely, this isn’t difficult. It’s not exactly Fort Knox.” I look around the room, as if I need to reassure myself that I’m alone.
In a shockingly short amount of time, I’m pulling the drawer open. When I see what’s inside, my head cocks to the side in confusion.
“Is this…” Reaching in, I pull out Blake’s laptop. I feel guilty about even holding it. Even if it isn’t my fault that the cops missed this.
As I sit here, debating what I should do, a loud, distant sound startles a yelp out of me, and I almost drop the laptop. Pure terror burns through my body as I stumble out of the office and grab my phone off the kitchen counter. Unlocking the screen, I open the security system app, which I now know how to use. I cycle through the multiple camera feeds until I get the one from the front porch.
My heart’s hammering against my ribs when I see apotted plant that was previously sitting next to the stairs, shattered on the steps. A dark figure is running through the yard, away from my porch, disappearing into the darkness. I’m unable to make out much more than the direction the person is heading.
When I make sure no one else is on the porch or anywhere else around the house, I rewind the camera feed about five minutes. My blood runs cold as I watch a man dressed in all black creeping through the shadows of the front of my house. Without watching the rest, I call the only person I can think of. As the phone rings loudly in my ear, my whole body trembles as he finally answers.
“Lily? Is everything okay?”
With an unsteady voice, I tell Chris what just happened. “I’m scared, Chris. I don’t know what to do. I stopped by the house to get some of my things, and I think someone tried to break in.”
“Stay inside. I’ll be there in fifteen. Call the police the second we get off the phone,” Chris commands as rustling comes through the speaker.
“Okay, I will. Thank you, Chris.” I press my hand to my chest in an attempt to calm my racing heart and even out my breathing.
A car door slams, then he says, “Don’t thank me. I’ll see you in a few. I’ll call you when I’m outside. Don’t open the door before then. Unless it’s for the cops.”
“I won’t.” The call disconnects, and my hands shake as I try to dial nine-one-one. Not just from the fear of what happened, but also because of the flashbacks I’m having of the last time I had to call. I walk to the barstools sitting along the kitchen island, and I pull one out, sinking into it as the ringing begins in my ear.
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
Pushing my panic down, I tell the operator what happened. She asks me a few more questions before telling me that the police are on their way. When the call ends, my hand drops to my lap. My mind swims with the danger I could be in and the helplessness I have against it. I’m alone in a big house, which I’m too scared to leave, just here, like the worst kind of sitting duck.
I glance down at my phone, still clutched in my hand. I don’t even want to watch the rest of the video without Chris here, or I might have a panic attack.
My cell phone starts ringing, causing my body to jolt. Seeing that it’s Chris, I don’t waste time answering and go to let him in. The knocking increases, and I hear Chris yell my name from the other side. I whip the door open and am once again stunned by how handsome Chris is. He’s still wearing his dress slacks, his white button-up shirt is tucked in but wrinkled, and his sleeves are rolled up halfway up his forearms.
His jaw is covered in a slight five o’clock shadow, and he’s frowning down at me with eyes filled with relief. “Goddamnit, Lily. When you didn’t answer the phone, I thought something had happened to you.”
All the fear from earlier is nowhere to be found with Chris staring at me like this. “I’m so sorry. I saw it was you calling, so I figured I would save time and just come answer the door.”
He releases a loud exhale. “That’s okay.” His hand goes to my waist and guides me back into my house. “Let’s get inside. Did you call the police?”
As I close and lock the door, I tell him, “I did. They should be here soon. I’m shocked you beat them here.”
Following me into the kitchen, he mumbles something about him having a reason to give a shit, unlike them. I don’tknow what he’s talking about, so I just let it drop as I take my recently vacated seat at the island.
