Page 46 of To Obsess

It’s unusual to say the least. We had gotten into a routine over the last couple months. Hardly ever did we go more than a day without some sort of communication. It did happen a time or two, but it wasn’t how things typically went for us.

Us. When did I start thinking about our situation as ‘us’? I shake my head at the thought, knowing no good could possibly come from that. I have other things to focus on at the moment. No need to focus on the letter-writing, stalking-me-in-the-dark guy who refuses to reveal his identity. Nobody’s got time for that.

I decide it doesn’t matter, shoving any thoughts of this K guy to the back of my mind as I pull into the alley at the back of the store. I let myself into the office, planning to put in a half hour of work going over the books before the store opens. I know it’ll take time to figure all of this out and get used to all these spreadsheets and reports, but this is a lot harder than I had ever realized.

The numbers all blur together in under fifteen minutes, leaving me cross-eyed and with a headache blossoming in my left temple. I put the file back in the drawer, locking it with the key Betty left for me. It feels odd to even be in the office without either of them here, but it’s something I’m going to have to get used to if this is going to be my store next year. The thought warms my chest as I look around at the bookshelves lining the office.

Most of the classics have wound up in here over the years. After a fiasco of high school kids vandalizing a few hard-to-get copies of books, they were put here for safe keeping ‘temporarily.’ That was close to a decade ago now. I breathe in the scent of them, feeling my nervous system relax more than it has in months.

A knock at the front door pulls me from my reverie, jarring me back to present day. I close the office door gently, glance at the clock (four minutes to spare), and head for the front door. On the other side is a familiar face I’m all too happy to see this morning.

Alex stands on the other side of the door, rain jacket pulled up to cover as much of his head as he can manage. I turn the lock and yank the door open, bell chiming, and usher him inside, out of the growing storm. He stands just on the inside of the door, dripping water onto the welcome mat but keeping the floor mostly dry.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, looking at me through the drops that are clinging to his long lashes. “I just couldn’t wait to see you again, and I assumed you’d be here first thing this morning. I didn’t want to interrupt your work day, so I wanted to stop by before it gets started.”

Butterflies swirl in my stomach, making me feel like a high school girl all over again. It’s been such a long time since anybody made me feel the things this man has had me feeling since we met. The change of pace has been refreshing to say the least.

“I’m glad you stopped by,” I admit, trying to keep a blush from creeping into my cheeks. “I had such a good time with you on our date. I was hoping you’d come by one day this week.”

The smile he gives me is quickly burned into my memory. I’m pretty sure I’ll remember that smile even when I’m old and grey. “That’s actually why I came this morning. I wanted to know when I could persuade you to go out with me again. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since our date.”

I scribble my number down on a piece of receipt paper and hand it to him. “Shoot me a text later and we can set something up. I’m free most of this coming weekend. I just have a podcast episode to record with Abby, but that shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours.”

“Great. I’ll text you this evening then,” he says as he takes a step back toward the door, smile beaming.

“This evening,” I confirm, watching him step into the downpour outside.

Chapter 42

KILLIAN

I haven’t smiled this much in years. Maybe ever, really. The hours fly by as thoughts of Violet skate through my head, everything from her smile to memories of us in school as kids. Her letter brought buried memories racing back to the surface.

The fact that she named the turtle I made for her after a memory of us as children twists my insides in an uncomfortable way. A good way, but uncomfortable nonetheless. That she even remembers anything about me at all causes a strange emotion to bubble up in my chest, almost making it difficult to breathe.

We were never close by any means, just having an interaction here and there throughout the years, but she was kind in each and every one of them.

For the last three hours, I’ve been sitting at my kitchen table staring at the letter in front of me. That next to last line jumps out at me over and over again. I can’t wait for your next letter.

A panicky thought occurs to me. Maybe we are getting in too deep with these letters. Maybe we would both be better off if I just didn’t respond this time, completely ghosting her. I’m sure it would hurt her after getting the birthday cards for years and the more personal letters for the last several months. If I did drop all communication, I could pursue a relationship with her in the real world.

I mean, I would have to come clean that Alex isn’t my real name. Okay, it actually is my middle name—Alexander to be totally transparent—so that wasn’t a lie exactly, but even I can admit it was a little shady. I didn’t want her to make the connection with the letters she’s been getting.

Even the mere thought of stopping the letters has my throat tightening. I’ve considered it multiple times but never been able to fight the urge long enough to sever the tie completely. And now that she’s writing back? There’s no chance.

I’ll just have to keep playing both sides for now. At least until I can come up with a better solution.

With a deep sigh of frustration, I resign myself to my fate and reach for a sheet of paper and pen.

DEAREST VIOLET,

THAT IS LITERALLY THE CUTEST STORY I HAVE EVER HEARD. YOU HAVE A HEART OF GOLD.

I WANT TO HEAR MORE STORiES LIKE THAT IF YOU DON’T MIND.

ALWAYS YOURS,

-K