It wasn’t unusual to have something running in the background. We have some of the most powerful computers in the country for that reason. We have to run multiple models at a time, and some of them take weeks to finish.
But this was taking up at least fifty percent of my computing power.
“Are any of you running a model titled GCS?” I asked.
A chorus of nos rang out from Eames and Olly.
Weird.
I force quit, and then the rest of the day passed without event. Eames and Olly gave me a ride home, and, since Lithie would be heading to the club tonight, I turned down an offer to hate-watch some reality show in favor of a night alone with my thoughts—mythoughts,definitely not the come-covered photo a certain stalker sent me.
“Honey, I’m home,” I called out.
I set my keys down on the counter next to a vase of fresh flowers, probably for Lithie. There must have been two dozen red roses, but I wasn’t a huge roses fan. I preferred wildflowers.
“My love, my heart, I haven’t seen you in ages,” she called back, coming into the living room, arms wide.
“Whose heart are you breaking this week?” I asked, gesturing to the flowers.
She shrugged. “They’re not for me. You have a secret admirer.”
My stomach did a somersault. Butterflies flapped and zinged in my gut. No way he’d found where I lived, right? But then, he’d managed to find my social media…
I pulled the soft white card stock note from between the velvety flowers.
Thinking of you, darling.
The butterflies in my stomach petrified into rocks. The room grew smaller. I read the words over and over again. Only one person had ever called medarling. My ex, Graham.
“Who are they from?”
“My doctor,” I lied.
I wasn’t sure why I lied. It wasn’t like Graham was a secret. But then, she would ask why he was sending flowers.
And I didn’t know.
Lithie whistled. “Wow, good doctor.”
“Yeah, well…I’ve spent enough time there. Probably paid for a few mortgages.”
She reached behind me, opening the front closet door to grab her coat.
“Good point,” she said, shrugging into a long black trench.
While Lithie hadn’t explicitly forbidden me from going to the club, she heavily implied I should stay away. All I knew was she would be out until the morning, and whatever clothing she wore—or didn’t—was at the club.
“See you tomorrow, sis,” Lithie said, giving me a hug. I returned the hug, locking the door after her. I walked back to the flowers, fiddling with the rose, rubbing the velvet petals between my fingertips until they bruised and broke apart in my hand.
The walls of my apartment felt too small. Shrinking in on me.
So I changed into a Spider-Man pajama set with matching shorts, took a sleeping pill, and watched a trashy reality television show.
Graham screamed until his voice gave out, spit flying, face red.
“I fucking hate you. You’re a goddamn leech. You’re lucky someone like me even looked at you. Broken. Sick. A fucking worthless burden. Do you know how difficult you are to live with? I regret ever meeting you.”
I woke with a jolt.
