I can feel her falling asleep in my arms as her head rests back against my chest.
“Let’s get you in bed, Sunshine.” I grab a towel and wrap it around her. The sleepy smile on her face makes everything worth it.
I have her relax on the counter and open the cabinet below the sink, and thankfully, there’s a first aid kit. I take my time, kissing her soft skin on her neck as I place butterfly stitches along the slice on her shoulder. The one along her throat isn’t as deep as the one on her shoulder, and I’m able to close it with the liquid band-aid stuff in the kit. I use more butterfly stitches for the one on her chest. Only once I kiss every injury he caused on her, do I wrap her in the towel.
She sits there watching me with that sleepy smile onher face as I clean my own wounds. The one on my face isn’t deep and can be covered with a liquid band-aid. The ones along my chest, not so much. I have to use butterfly stitches for most of them. The one just over my heart is the worst. He pushed the tip of the knife in and twisted. I had to put gauze in it and put a covering on it. I’ll see if Alexandria can stitch me up when I get back home. She seems to have extensive knowledge of tending to stab wounds…I don’t even want to know why after what I just dealt with.
She falls asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow. I stay and watch her for a long time, keeping track of the rise and fall of her chest. She’s in a deep, peaceful sleep. Void of any of the nightmare events she just went through.
I found some old clothes that hardly fit me in my old closet. A pair of basketball shorts and an old Van Halen T-shirt. I lean to kiss her on the cheek before leaving the room. It’s dark. The only light in the pool house is the dim one hanging in the kitchen and one bulb in the living room.
I make my way slowly into the living room, letting the nostalgia of this place hit me in waves. Adam and I lived here together at one point when we were sixteen. He didn’t want to live with his parents anymore, and apparently, living in their pool house was far enough from under their thumb for him.
Along the wall is a row of bookshelves. I run my fingers along their leather spines until I find the one I’m looking for. It’s a photo album Angie made for me for Christmas. The album is dusty from years of sitting on the shelf. The leather is cracked and worn.
I sit on the couch and flip it open. The pagescrinkle and stick from the years it’s been sitting untouched. I turn each page and am overwhelmed by the memories that come flooding back.
I spend hours lost in the past, so long in fact that the sky is beginning to lighten in the distance along the horizon. With each page turned, it becomes more and more clear what I have to do.
I close the album and go into the kitchen. I grab a pad of paper and a pen out of the junk drawer and begin writing out the hardest letter I’ve ever had to write.
I remove my keys from the keyring and step back into my old room. I place the photo album on the nightstand, lay the note on top, and set her phone on top of that. I set her backpack on the floor next to the nightstand. I saw it last night in my back seat and went out to grab it this morning.
Mina is still asleep. I take a moment to memorize everything I can about her. The way her lips have a small smile tilted at the corners as she sleeps. Her long, dark hair splayed across my pillow. She’s so beautiful. She looks peaceful as she lies in my bed…Her bed.
It's hers now. Everything is hers.
I lock the pool house before closing the door and take one last look around the property. This home has been in Adam’s family for years. It was his parents before it was his. And now, it belongs to her.
I climb into my car. My fingers clutch onto the steering wheel as a cold hand grips around my heart. I don’t want to leave her. I…I think I’m falling in love with her. But that can’t happen.
This is how it has to be.
CHAPTER 17
Mina
As the sunlight starts to bleed through the curtains, I stretch and breathe in the unfamiliar scent.
It's strange. When we got here last night, he let himself in like he’d lived here all of his life, but nothing about this place felt like him. His sheets don’t smell like his cologne or his shampoo. Neither does the house. Everything smells like freshly washed linens and cleaner. The shampoo and body wash we used last night weren’t even the same scent he had on him the night we met.
My eyes are still closed as I pat the bed next to me searching for his warm body, but the bed is cold.
“Myles?” I quietly call out as I sit up.
The nightmare of yesterday begins to sink in, but then I think of last night. How tender and loving he was. I confessed exactly how I feel about him, and he feels the same about me. It was one of the most amazing nights I’ve ever had. The good memory of last night wins against the nightmare…at least for now.
I stand and wrap the sheet around my body. The house’s AC is on, and the floor is cool. It’s quiet. The only sound in the house is my bare feet on the hardwood floor and the swishing of the sheet dragging behind me.
“Myles?” I call out a bit louder, but still there is only silence. Where the fuck is he?
I sleepily walk around the kitchen checking the fridge and pantry. Nothing. Not a single thing to eat or drink. I open the cupboards. Plates, cups, and bowls are neatly stacked, but nothing matches. There’s a coffee maker on the counter, but no coffee.
Where the hell am I?
I spin slowly, taking in the living room. The dark walls. The mismatched couch and love seat. The broken armchair in the corner. I sit on the couch running my fingers along the coffee table. A bright red stain sits on top. Paint?
A memory hits me. A wave of nausea rolls in my stomach. I close my eyes, and I can see it. My dad and I were here. I wanted my nails painted red like my mama’s. He said Uncle Milo would do it when they finished their game. Milo ended up knocking over the bottle…Uncle Milo.
