Chapter 37
It has been two weeks, and I feel way better than I did. I’m still hoarded up in my apartment because I don’t have to be anywhere. My phone has died and I don’t want to deal with any of that. A package arrived yesterday from him; I haven’t opened it yet, afraid of its contents. It’s big and sitting in my doorway. I know I should open it. I think my heart is broken, I think he was the love of my life. You know, the one you never forget the one that’s always there, that others will never compare to. Even though it would be so easy considering he never wooed me.
After the last episode of the Gilmore Girls, I have nothing left to watch. I’ve managed to watch all of the Charmed, Dawson’s Creek (don’t laugh) and True Blood episodes. But the box still sits there and stares at me, goading me to open it. I grab a kitchen knife and walk to it slowly like something may jump out at me if I open it. I slowly run the knife along the tape and pull open the box. When I look into it, its contents confuse me. I pull the first thing out and it doesn’t make any sense. It’s his shirt, one that I’ve slept in many times, and when I smell it, it still smells of him. I rummage through the rest and see it’s all his clothes, ones that I’ve worn, and ones that he has worn that I’ve loved on him. It still doesn’t make any sense.
I tip the box upside down to empty the contents and in the bottom there’s a letter, in his handwriting.
Meet me tonight, 7 pm at your apartment door.
I didn’t open the box when it came so the note confuses me, is he here? Surely he hasn’t been waiting for me? I walk to the front door and am reluctant to open it, not knowing what I’ll find. When I do, he’s there. Sitting on the floor, typing on his phone. He hears the door and looks up; a wave of relief seems to wash over his face. He stands and his black jeans hug him tightly, his black shirt and baseball cap make him look bad, so bad and yet so good.
“Pixie?” he says, looking me up and down and taking a step toward me. I stop him by putting my hand up and walk backward slamming the door in his face. My breathing becomes heavy, and I slide down the door wondering what he’s doing. Why is he here? I even out my breathing and feel the door move, it must be him leaning against it. I stop breathing and try to listen.
“I need you, Bexley,” he says, his voice rough. I don’t respond, I don’t know what to say. I’ve told him it’s over. “Let me stay in love with you, let me help you remain in love with me. I want to be your end, Bexley, you’re last in everything.”
“Please leave,” I manage to say. He doesn’t respond, and I don’t look to see if he’s left. It’s wrong, so wrong to be in love with someone who is so bad, especially when I come from the type of background I come from. I used to put people like him away, for life. Hell, I even tried to do it to him. It’s wrong, it’s wrong to fall for someone so bad, and with no morals. No respect for the law.
I manage to crawl back to the couch and restart the Gilmore Girls. I’ll just go back to the beginning, and think if only life was that easy.
****
Today is the day. I need groceries, food, and drinks other than water. I dress myself this morning, which is something I haven’t done for almost two weeks. I’m wearing long black pants and a black shirt. I guess it matches my mood.
When I open the door to walk out, I didn’t think he would still be there. I thought for sure with no more words spoken last night, he’d be gone. But he isn’t, he’s in the same clothes, sitting in the same position. I contemplate walking back in and shutting the door, but I really need food. I ate my last packet of noodles last night.
I walk past him without looking. He stands, and I know he’s following me. His footsteps echo behind me. I exit the building and am glad the local supermarket isn’t far from where I live. I cross the street hoping he won’t follow, but I’m also fighting the battle of wanting to see him.
He doesn’t disappoint, he follows. I knew he would. Some part of me wants to tell him to fuck off, but I don’t, not just yet.
I grab a basket and toss in bread and milk first, then junk food, lots of it. As I’m checking out the candy, he steps next to me, and I have no choice but to acknowledge him.
“I’m not a chaser, Bexley,” he says, and it makes me angry. I didn’t ask him to chase me.
“Good, go home,” I say to him.
“I am home. You received my clothes?” he asks. It takes me a moment to understand what he’s just said to me.
“What?” I ask with my mouth hanging open. He reaches over and his fingers run along my jaw before he lifts my jaw up and closes my mouth.
“I’m all yours,” he says like it’s so simple. I ignore him and walk away. I watch as ladies heads turn when he stands behind me in the checkout line. Some not so subtle about it. Some even whistle and I want to laugh at them. But I refrain, and pay for my groceries and walk back the way I came, back to my home.
When I reach my door, I turn to see him there, not even three feet away from me. He watches me but doesn’t say a word. I walk in and leave my door open, I don’t know why, so he walks in after me. He looks at his clothes strewn across the floor and back to me. He doesn’t come in any further.
“You can shower,” I say to him pointing toward the bathroom door. He smiles like he’s just won, but he hasn’t. “Then you leave,” I add the last part. He grabs some clothes and walks to my shower. I listen and hear it start up. Sitting up on a kitchen stool, I open a packet of chocolate just waiting, for what I’m not sure.
When he’s done, I’ve eaten almost half the block, and he comes out without his shirt on. Just a pair of blue jeans that hang low on his waist. I can’t help but look and admire, he is the devil after all.
“Would you accompany me for dinner?” he asks. I shake my head, for more reasons than the one. “Okay,” he says and walks out the door closing it behind him. I sit there just staring at the door, like he’s just played a joke on me. I jump up and swing the door open, and there he is sitting on the ground, where I first found him. He looks up and I walk back in and slam the door shut.
What have I gotten myself into?
All night I think about him, but not once do I reopen that door to see if he’s still there.
****
I wake to the sound of banging on my door, followed by the yelling of my name. It’s Ember. I open the door to her smiling face staring at me. She walks in and slams the door shut behind her, and follows me to the kitchen where I make us a coffee. “You know you have a man on your doorstep asleep?” she says with the biggest grin on her face. I make three coffees. I hand her one and take the other to the door and give it to Zeke. I don’t make eye contact, and when his hand brushes mine to take it, I walk straight back inside shutting the door.
“So you wear his clothes, but let him sleep outside?” she asks smiling brightly. I look down and realize I do have on his shirt and then realize he’s probably just seen that too. I run to my bedroom and find the closest clothes that are actually mine and take his shirt off and replace them. Ember is smiling wide when I return.
“This is interesting,” she says clapping her hands like a child.
“Shut up,” I mutter, picking up my coffee and sipping on it.
“How long has he been out there?” she asks pointing to the door. I shrug my shoulders because I really don’t know. Could be two days or longer, I just don’t know.
“Well, are you going to let him in?”
“Ember, you came for what exactly?” I ask. Her eyebrows raise and she laughs at me some more.
“Lance is here for work. Just came by to wake you up and take you out for lunch,” she says.
“Okay, let’s go,” I tell her picking up my keys.
“You aren’t wearing that, are you?” she asks pointing to my clothes, making a face at them.
“I can just as easily stay home,” I tell her. She shakes her head and walks to the door. I follow her and lock it on the way out. Zeke is still there and watching us.
“Toodles,” Ember says with a wave. I don’t look at him; I don’t want to see him.
We walk to a nearby restaurant and when we’re seated Ember laughs loudly.
“Is he your bodyguard?” she asks, and I wonder who she’s pointing to. When I gaze out the bay windows of the restaurant, I see Zeke standing there. I cover my face with my hands and try to calm my breathing.
“Why won’t he leave me alone,” I say in exhaustion.
“He got bit by the Pixie,” she says still laughing. I hit her on the head with the menu and she stops and rubs it. It’s not just Zeke that calls me that, Ember used to when she couldn’t remember my name when we first met, she says it’s all about my size and my hair.
“What? It’s funny,” she says shrugging. “Seriously, why’s he following you everywhere and sleeping at your door?”
“I don’t know.”
“Didn’t you two break up?” she asks me.
“Yes,” I reply.
“He seems to think otherwise, you know. I’ve heard rumors about him lately,” she says leaning over like she’s about to tell me a secret.
“What?”
“He sold his house and some of his businesses,” she says.
I look over to him, wondering if it’s true. A part of me is screaming not to care, but the other part wants to know.