"Just rest up. I'm preparing for dinner. The kids are with Chelsea till then."
“How- how did I get here?”
He looks down at me, puzzled. His hands brushing my bangs off my face.
"You texted me. Said you were under the weather and needed me to sort dinner and the kids." His hands running over my hair, and the combination of the alcohol has me yawning.
“I said that?” I squeeze my eyes shut. I need to get a grip.
"We'll have dinner and have an early night. We'll see how you feel in the morning." He leans in and kisses my forehead. I turn to the couch, my eyes already heavy with sleep. I'll just rest a few minutes, I think.
I feel warm breath on my face a few minutes later. I sense someone in the room. It's not Cohen. Chills run through me, but I am too tired to decipher if any of this is real.
Chapter 9
Anonymous
I see you.
You don’t know I’m here.
Waiting in the shadows.
Ready to see you fall.
Down, down, down,
Down the rabbit hole.
Out of sight.
Out of mind.
You think nobody can see you.
But I do.
Ihave to say you hid well, but I found you, Sin. I've been watching you. I have a pretty good idea of what you're about. It's fun, keeps me entertained. This is the most fun I have had in a while. I followed you to the grocery store, thankful it wasn’t the one I worked in. I stood behind you and I remember taking a peek in your shopping basket. You were in the aisle next to me. You didn't notice me watching, too preoccupied with keeping your daughter in check. I never quite understood why women like to bring their toddler's shopping. Surely there is a family member who would be happy to take the little brats off your hands for an hour. You never seem to mind. You love bringing the little girl with you, slurping up the compliments like the thirsty bitch you are.
Your shopping cart contains items of crucial importance. A Teen magazine for Willow. You buy a male shower gel, exactly four little ready-made desserts, a bottle of shiraz. I made a note of that in my notebook at home, starting to plot this new life of Sinclair Finley. A life I haven't been a part of. Can you imagine if this kind of information got into the wrong hands?
It became my routine. You always arrive at the grocery store in the morning with yoga clothes on. I can tell you are on the way to the gym because you buy an energy drink. I know you and Cohen drink wine daily, and that you prefer red to white. At least he does. You look at the Chardonnay longingly and set it back in the fridge. You have middle-class taste, nothing too expensive, but none of that boxed stuff, which tells me you just live like that out of choice rather than necessity.
“Straight or budget?” The cashier asks, chewing her gum.Another Store, another Nancy.
“Straight, please,” you answer. Always so polite. I bet you could charm the socks off anyone. It’s in your nature.
"That'll be forty-three dollars."
You hands over your card to doppelganger Nancy, who swipes it so slowly a sloth would give her a run for her money. After thanking the woman, you packs your groceries in the reusable bag you carry around, and make your way outside. Maybe I should drop a flyer for the supermarket I work in. It would help to keep a closer eye on you.
“You okay? You seem preoccupied.”
I’m standing at the till, thinking about Sin. Slobber Rob comes up behind me. I can smell the stale beer on his breath, and the gag-worthy stench of his unwashed uniform. Rob is my mother's boyfriend, but he's also sleeping with Nancy and a few other cashiers and trying his damnedest to get in my pants.
"Not at all, boss," I answer cheerfully. The harder I push him away, the more persistent he becomes. He's a vile man with low standards and principles to match. This store is his very own whore house, and if I don't play my cards right, I'll be next. I manage to evade him, but not for long. Rob gets what he wants like he always says. My mother passes by the checkout point and casts me a warning glare.
Oh, Mother, dear, if only you knew. She believes she has a hold on him, but there are times I know she isn't that naive. She just doesn't want to be alone anymore. Rob gives her something to live for. Women like my mother need that, an anchor.
