It would be funner if you were going to be here later.

She wanted to respond to Cayden’s message and be half funny, half snarky, letting him know that “funner” wasn’t technically a word, but decided against it. Earlier she’d told him that she had work to do, and although a lot of her actual work involved her phone, she tried not to touch it while double-checking her schedule for tomorrow and next week.

For some reason, all the dates and times began to get muddled in her head. Groaning, she leaned back and rubbed her temples. I need to save my brainpower for tomorrow with Claire. No, not even brainpower. More like patience. All her clients were great. They had their quirks and strong preferences, as was to be expected since they were all more high-profile people in one industry or another. But, for the most part, they were pleasant to be around.

Claire, however, was a different story. She wasn’t unpleasant company; she was kind and always had snacks and drinks ready when Lillian arrived. But her energy was so draining, Lillian had a hard time at longer appointments with her. Claire was best in small doses, and tomorrow’s appointment was a longer one.

Do some deep-breathing exercises. Meditation. Something to wind down and have an early night. She sent a prayer up to whoever would listen that Cayden would remember to keep his music down. Certainly he would since he had gotten to know her and her schedule.

I mean, I told him bluntly that I have something in the morning and that the client’s exhausting. As clear as she had been, she knew he probably wouldn’t remember those details. Men usually didn’t, she had found. Maybe there was hope, though, since he was the one who suggested keeping his noise level low.

Let’s see what happens. She looked out the window at the trees. The world was turning golden, and a breeze blew across her grass. She liked it to have a little length to it, not completely prim and proper like Cayden’s. Every day was about organization and making things symmetrical and clean and pretty, so the uneven grass and flowers sporadically popping up were comforting.

The cats were sleeping soundly. She looked at their sides moving in and out and the occasional twitch of their paws. Gray Cat was drooling; she had a bad habit of doing that. Lillian pulled a tissue from its box and walked over, gently stroking the cat’s back.

“Sorry, kitty,” she whispered like the cat was a baby, and eased the folded tissue under her chin. “That’s better. No more drool stains on my couch.”

Everything was so quiet, and for a moment she felt peace. The thoughts about tomorrow’s appointment with Claire floated out the window as her eyes stuck on the gently swaying treetops. Even in just a couple of minutes the sun had sped down behind the forest, leaving streaks of orange and purple in its wake.

It had been a while since Lillian had stopped to watch the sun’s descent or enjoy the colorful sky. Birds chirped, sounding slightly sleepier than they had that morning, and she heard a frog croak. ‘Bye, winter, she thought. I’m not complaining about all the life that’s happening out there right now.

She looked around for her water glass but didn’t see it in the kitchen or living room. “Where is it?” she murmured, scratching her chin. Figuring it must be in her room, she went to check. Sure enough, it was there on her bedside table.

As she reached for it, a noise outside in the front yard reached her ears. It sounded like a car, and it stopped and turned off nearby. She drank what was left in her glass in one gulp and parted the blinds.

Who’s that? The car, a bright blue sports car, had parked along the curb halfway between her yard and Cayden’s. She had seen it several times before; before she knew him, she’d never cared to see who the partygoers were. This car definitely stood out from any other ones in the neighborhood, so she knew it was the same one.

Cayden must have heard his first guest arrive, too, because she heard his front door open and his heavy footsteps walking down the steps to the sidewalk. The car door opened, and a tall, slender brunette emerged, dressed to the nines. She clutched her phone in her hand, and her lips widened into a grin when she saw Cayden walking in her direction.

I wonder what she does for a living, Lillian thought smugly.

“Cayden!” The girl hopped toward him in her stilettos. “Hey, babe!”

Lillian’s eyes bugged out. Babe?

“Hey, good lookin’!” Cayden spread his arms and folded them around her in a hug.

The girl leaned back and kissed both his cheeks daintily. She looked like something out of a fashion magazine. Bewildered, Lillian’s mouth hung open as she watched them walk inside the house.

When they were gone and the outside was quiet again, she found herself cold. “What the hell?” she yelled out loud. “What was that?” Running into the other room she glared at the cats, who were just as confused by her sudden loud noise as she was about Cayden’s interaction with that girl. “What the hell did I just see?” she shouted again, madly looking in all directions like the answer would be written on the wall.

Calm down. She tried to rationalize with herself, but it didn’t work for a few minutes. She refilled her water glass, stalked around the house, and folded laundry to distract herself and expend some of the adrenaline coursing through her. Finally, she was able to get a hold of her thoughts enough to sit down and think of logical reasons for what happened.

“Let’s analyze this for a second.” She folded her hands across her stomach as she lay on the sofa, like it was a therapist’s couch. “He’s a personal trainer. He probably has female clients. In fact, women would probably choose him to be their trainers.”

That sounds good. Keep going.

She took a breath. “That explains why he called her ‘good lookin’.”

Yep. Because she looks better than she did when he first started with her. Maybe she was really unhealthy before and had miraculous motivation to improve her physical health. Look at her now. And that’s why she’s wearing stilettos and a short skirt.

Lillian nodded. “Could be. Maybe she’s a famous business tycoon, which explains the fancy car. I probably just don’t know of her. Or maybe she’s foreign. Foreign people tend to kiss on both cheeks when they’re greeting someone.”

But it didn’t sound like she had an accent.

“I only heard a couple of words. So, I can’t say for sure.”

Her brain got quiet and she felt that dread start to creep up.

Maybe I’m just in denial that he has a girlfriend and...he and I...

“No.” She sat up with a start. “If she was a girlfriend, she would be over here more often.”

He goes out a lot. Maybe he just goes to her place more often.

Lillian let out a moan and folded her body over her knees. “This can’t be happening.” Her head felt light and the world began to spin. “Please, not now. Not a flare-up right now. I have got to stop thinking about this.”

But the flare-up was already in full force. Her insides burned like they were in a kiln and she felt a pressure build up in her core. She stood, hunched over, cursing in her mind as she hobbled to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later she cooled off, and the nausea finally went away. She deemed herself safe to go back and lie on the couch.

Please, just shut up, she demanded of her thoughts as she weakly pulled a blanket up to her shoulders. Black Cat came over and curled up against her chest, licking her chin with his rough tongue.

“I’m okay, kitty. I’m okay.” She stroked the cat’s back until he put his head down. His body was so warm, his fur so soft. Lillian put her arm around him and closed her eyes.

Just a rest until my energy comes back, she thought. Within a few seconds, she dropped off to sleep.

*  *  *

SOMETHING BRUSHED AGAINST her nose and she jerked awake, staring right into the butt of Black Cat. He turned to look at her innocently and meowed once.

“Supper time, I know.” Ever so slowly, she rolled onto her back and touched her stomach. Poor thing, she thought, oddly sad for her organs. There’s nothing to worry about. No reason to get sick.

Under the thick blanket she had broken a sweat. It dripped down the middle of her chest and she wiped it away. “Food for you, then shower for me,” she told the cats, who pawed at each other on the floor. Eventually she got to her feet and scooped food into the cats’ bowls.

“Why do you two have to overeat?” she asked, watching them leisurely stalk over. “If you were like other cats, I would only have to feed you once a day and you’d eat as you need it. But no, you two are foodies, huh?” They aren’t as fat as they used to be. That’s an accomplishment.

Suddenly she remembered about the party next door. From the kitchen she couldn’t hear anything, and breathed a sigh of relief. Still holding her stomach, she made it to the front door and opened it a crack. By the light of the street lamp she saw that five cars were lined up in front of Cayden’s house, the bright blue one still parked halfway into her lot.

Lillian felt herself getting upset and stopped. Let it go. It’s time to have food. Truthfully, she didn’t feel like eating anything. Partially because of the confusing emotions about that model chick from earlier, and partially because of the flare-up sucking out all her strength. At this point each step felt like she was dragging weights attached to her ankles.

Bread. Plain bread and some butter. That always seemed to agree with her stomach and it was easy to fix. It was very bare bones, but it worked. Always a check mark in the food journal. Priorities, she reminded herself, and turned her back on the cars.

Even the loaf of bread felt heavy, but she kept reminding herself that food was a priority right now. When she took a bite, she felt it go all the way down to her stomach; her whole body seemed to lunge for the bread and absorb it.

Damn. I feel worse than I thought I did. It almost hurt, the simple act of nourishing herself after her body revolted earlier. Her eyes wandered to the medicine bottles lined up on the counter and rested on the bottle of pain pills. No, Lillian. Save those for when you really need them. Now is not one of those times.

The clock hanging on the wall by the front door chimed twelve times. Midnight already? She had fallen asleep hours ago, but it felt like no more than a few minutes. At least the flare-up was over now. Sure, the aftermath wasn’t pleasant by any means, but she could function and keep her thoughts straight without any bouts of crippling nausea.

Her mind drew a blank about what time her appointment with Claire was in the morning. Reaching for her phone that still sat on the edge of the table, she opened her calendar and was relieved to see that it wasn’t until 10:00. Plenty of time to sleep.

But she didn’t really believe she would sleep well. The simple bread had given her enough strength to have a flashback of Cayden’s first guest to the “intimate gathering.” Every time she blinked, the vision of the girl kissing him on both cheeks and being enveloped in his muscular arms played like a movie on the back of her eyelids. Shaking her head didn’t help get rid of the imagery; it was stuck there, a theater she couldn’t exit.

Frustrated, she took her dishes to the sink and turned the water on full blast. The pressure of the flow hitting the sensitive skin on the back of her hands was almost painful. Exactly what I need right now, she thought, not feeling guilty about it at all. Every part of her body was always more fragile after a flare-up.

Not guilty, she snorted at herself. Just like how, this morning, I was proud of myself for not feeling guilty about sleeping with Cayden. I had even started to let go of my fear about him. Hell, he even inspired me to— “Ouch, shit!” she gasped as the water suddenly became scalding-hot, and smacked the faucet to the middle so it would be more lukewarm. Her skin reddened slightly, and for some reason the sight calmed her down. It reminded her she was human. She could feel.

It had been a long time since she had felt something so vivid like this. It felt good.

One plate, a knife, and her water glass weren’t enough for her to fully vent her feelings through cleaning. She looked around for more dishes and saw a few more glasses sitting in random places around the kitchen, water glasses that had been misplaced and never noticed, probably due to her being absorbed in either her thoughts or her work. Forgetting about the earlier flare-up, she stomped over and seized them all at once.

As she watched bubbles pile high in the filling sink, she set her jaw and fumed. How could I have trusted him? He’s obviously very into himself. I mean, look at him, Lillian. His body is perfect, he’s got this face that isn’t just heart-melting but actually kind of exotic, and he makes a ton of money from working out with people. I bet he doesn’t even have any clients who are guys, come to think of it. They’re probably all women. For good reason, too.

She couldn’t quite place where her anger was coming from, but she wasn’t willing to do anything to stop it. Getting over those haunting memories from the past—the bar with Amelia only being the first one—was a huge step for her to even be able to walk over to Cayden’s house the other night. And what did she end up doing? Sleeping with him. The whole night.

“I think it’s less about the fact that there was a hot model person coming to his party,” she thought out loud, “but more about her calling him ‘babe’. And how he called her ‘good looking.” She shook her head at the glass she was scrubbing incessantly. “I guess it boils down to how I thought he wanted to start something with me. Not that relationships usually start with sleeping with each other before you really get to know one another. Maybe they do. I don’t know.”

I really don’t know, she realized. But it doesn’t make sense that he would want me to come over if his girlfriend would be there. Unless he’s some weirdly sick person. At this point, I can’t tell what kind of person he is, besides the fact that he likes himself and his job. And so do other people.

Her ears tickled from some faint sound drifting into the room, and it didn’t take her even one second to know where it was coming from. Before Cayden had moved in, the neighborhood never had any noise except for some kids playing outside after school or a car driving past. Perhaps some people thought Cayden brought some life to the area, and she had even entertained the idea for a quick moment that she was being too uptight about it.

That was all it was: a quick moment.

She rationalized with herself about it. The house on the other side of Cayden was only a part-time home for an older couple, and it was currently empty. The noise was much louder here beside his house, and he was the only one who really produced it.

She rolled her eyes sarcastically. Who’s shouting? The voices were clearly audible but they were too faint to be understandable. She put the last glass in the dish drainer and went to the other end of the house where the view of Cayden’s yard was better.

Peeping out between the blinds she saw that one of the last cars was pulling away from the curb, leaving only none other than that damn bright blue one. Cayden’s lamp in his yard brightly lit everything around it, but she couldn’t see anything. There were still noises, definitely girl and guy voices, and every now and then there was a squeal that sounded very much like a drunken one.

“What on earth...” she muttered to herself, and went to look out the bathroom window at the side of his house, where the voices sounded like they were coming from.

The minute she looked out, she saw in the half-shadows the girl pinning Cayden up against the side of his house.

It was too dark to see what exactly was going on. Cayden wasn’t moving much, just standing there with his face pointed toward the girl, who was flopping all over the place while using his solid frame for stability. As she rambled unintelligibly, she almost fell but caught herself on his arm as he reached out to catch her. Judging by his control, he didn’t look like he’d had too many.

Then she fell against him, and Lillian saw what she knew without a doubt were their bodies pressing against each other.

Shocked, she was unable to tear her eyes away from the scene. Their embrace didn’t last long; she could see Cayden’s hands hesitating at the suddenness of it. The girl’s legs buckled under her and he barely caught her under her arms. It was faint, but Lillian heard him say, “Come on, let me take you back.”

She watched him somehow load the girl into the front seat of his car, get into the driver’s seat, and drive away.

The world was noiseless again, and with the fading of the car engine in the distance her emotions also faded. Standing there in the dark, she felt an uncomfortable emptiness form a chasm in her heart.

The one time I risk something, she thought, I get played. Of course. Isn’t that how it always turns out?

She heard a very faint voice in her head try to encourage her, but she knew it wasn’t worth entertaining. I’ve been played, and that’s all there is to it. Slowly she went back to her room and sat on the bed, hunched over. How could I have been so stupid to actually think that a guy like that would like a girl like me?

It sounded so cliché, but she looked down at her feet. Her knees stuck out of her frail legs. She didn’t look terrible, but she was much weaker than she used to be. A few years ago, she had muscle and was stronger. Then it all started to go downhill.

She reached down to scratch her ankle and saw how weak her arms were, also. Compared to his arms, hers were twigs. It could never work between us. The thought saddened her greatly, but she believed it was true.

The quiet seeped into her skin and took her mind to another place. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t un-see Cayden’s first guest. I wasn’t anything to him. I was never in a place where I could expect him to act a certain way or do things differently. Sure, they slept together. But he was young, single, and incredibly sexy—in addition to his job as a personal trainer. She imagined him seeing people every day in workout gear, and all those people seeing him in his own workout gear. Or even shirtless.

She couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.

You know what? She stood up and put her hands on her hips. “This isn’t okay. He can play me, but I’m going to let him know it’s not okay.” There were so many things that flew into her mind to say to him, and she intended to tell him every single one.

Her mind separated from her body enough that she barely realized she was putting on her sandals and a jacket and stomping over to his house. She didn’t feel any physically weaker than she did yesterday; all she could think about was giving him a piece of her mind the instant he pulled back in to his driveway.

It’s going to be so satisfying. She smiled smugly to the night air as she sat in the one chair by his front steps. The light from the lamp was just reaching her here, enough to make her noticeable to Cayden when he got back, but not like she was in a spotlight. The night air was mild, so she didn’t mind sitting outside listening to the sounds of nocturnal life.

The drunk girl must not have lived too far away, because he was back within the next ten minutes. Lillian heard his car make the turn down at the end of the street and a chill went up her back. The waiting time before he got back was the worst, and the real thing was about to happen.

Here goes nothing. She tried to pump herself up as he pulled up to his house. For a moment she tried to practice what she wanted to say, but found that at the slightest thought it all disappeared. I’m just going to wing it. Craning her neck forward she saw him in the driver’s seat, looking straight ahead. Obviously, he hadn’t noticed her yet; he was fumbling around for something, and when he found it he opened the door and stood up.

She took a breath.

Cayden rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. He wasn’t walking as straight as he usually did; he looked tired. Lillian felt sorry for him for a blink, but that blink showed her what she was angry about again. Her skin got hot.

He put a foot on the bottom step leading up to his house and stopped. Turning his head slightly, he jumped back. “Holy shit, Lil, what the hell are you doing there?”

She didn’t say anything.

“You missed the party,” he tried, sounding uncomfortable.

“The party your girlfriend was at?”

He froze. “What?”

“Don’t try that with me.”

“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about,” he contradicted, the pitch of his voice rising.

“Can you guess?”

It was his turn to not respond.

“What kind of asshole,” she growled, standing up, “invites his girlfriend to a party, then invites the girl he just slept with? What kind of asshole cheats and pretends like nothing happened?”

“Hang on, hang on.” Cayden took a step forward and pointed a finger at her. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“So you have nothing romantic going on with the one who got out of that car?” She thrust her hand at the blue car still sitting there.

“Hannah?” His mouth dropped open. “No, I don’t have anything going on with Hannah.”

Lillian frowned. “She sure looks like she has something going on with you.”

“What gives you that idea?”

“Hey, babe,” she mocked. “Hey, good-lookin’.”

“Dammit, Lil.” She saw he was really frustrated now. It soothed that emotional burn she had been nursing since before sundown. “Were you watching?”

“Was I not supposed to be?”

“It’s not that.”

“It’s hard not to hear what’s going on over here when there’s loud noises and our houses are so close together.” She crossed her arms.

“I don’t know how to explain this without you getting pissed off at me even more.” Shaking his head, he put his foot on the step again. “I don’t think you’re going to listen to anything I have to say.”

“All I want to say,” she interjected, “is that you shouldn’t sleep with a girl when you have something going with another.”

Cayden lost it. His voice rose to a yell. “That’s impossible when the girl I slept with is the girl I have something going on with.”

All the blood left her head and she put her hand on the chair for balance. “What?”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be ridiculous. You would literally have to be emotionally void to not see what’s going on here.” He pointed at both of them. His face had changed from irritation to something softer—something vulnerable.

“I...” She couldn’t think of a single word to say and sat back down, looking at Cayden’s feet.

“I don’t have anything going on with Hannah,” he clarified, his voice firm but with a tender edge. “That’s the last thing I want you to think.”

“How do you explain the side of the house?” The emotions had returned, and she met his gaze. “You didn’t look like you minded.”

“How the hell did you keep seeing all this?” he asked incredulously.

“When I hear yelling outside my house, I usually look to make sure no one is hurt. Especially when there’s alcohol involved.” Good one, she mentally high-fived herself.

“If you were looking, didn’t you notice she was drunk?”

“Yes.” There was no defense for that one. “But how did you even get over there when the car is on the other side of the house?”

“I can’t help it when a drunk girl runs off and almost breaks her ankle from wearing those stupid high heels!” He was shouting again. “There’s loose dirt back there. She was having a hard enough time running on flat ground!”

“She kissed you, Cayden,” Lillian reminded him. The words physically hurt her to say, as if they were laced with poison. “She literally kissed you, and you didn’t fight back.”

He nodded and looked down. “Yes, she kissed me. But in that short time she was right here—” he held his arms out in a circle just before his chest, “—she was about to throw up right down my shirt. Just like you did in my bushes. Probably worse.”

She crossed her arms.

“I don’t want to kiss that,” he declared. “If I had pushed her away, she would have vomited.”

“You don’t have to defend every little thing you did.” Lillian stood up again and felt tears sting her eyes. “This isn’t about what you did. This is about how I’m really confused, and what I feel; and what I saw tonight made it worse.”

Silence.

“I probably shouldn’t have come over here anyway,” she murmured. Her face burned. She was an idiot.

“I texted you,” he said quietly. “I really wanted you over here. If you had come, you wouldn’t be so mad now because it wouldn’t have happened.”

“How do you know?”

He looked at her face fixedly. “Because I would have been with you instead of floating around by myself.”

Shit. That was the only word she could conjure up. “I don’t know, Cayden. I don’t know what to think.”

“I swear to you, I don’t have a girlfriend.” With the last word, she heard his voice break. “I have never cheated on anyone, and that’s something I take pride in. Always have. That’s not my style. At all.”

She knew the discussion was over; they’d said everything they needed to. When she opened her mouth to say something—anything—her voice wouldn’t work. No apology or opinion or retort would come out. So, with a last glance at him, she turned and ran, disappearing into the darkness of her own yard.