Twenty-one

LILAH

An indulgent smirk is already on my face before I even open my eyes. My exhausted body is wonderfully achy in all the right places. And the deep slumber I just woke up from is proof that I was beyond satisfied before drifting off to sleep.

In a word, last night was incredible. Andrew is the most unselfish lover I’ve ever had. Rough yet gentle, demanding yet accommodating. He’s literally everything I never knew I needed in a lover.

And, oh my God, the man is packing. It felt like I was being ripped apart in the most delightful way.

Opening my eyes, I stare up at the ceiling with the same lazy smile in place. Why had I tried so hard to fight what was happening between us?

Rolling over, I fully intend to wake his sleeping frame beside me and demand a repeat of last night even if I do feel a little tender between my legs. However, when I stretch my arm in that direction, cool sheets rub up against me instead of a warm body.

A frown wipes away the smile on my lips. Sitting up, I look around the room bleary eyed and see no trace of him in the room.

Throwing back the covers, I walk over to my bathroom. No Andrew.

The kitchen and living room garner the same results. No Andrew.

His clothes and shoes are gone, too.

“Where the hell is he?”

I search the countertops for a note or any scrap of evidence that last night wasn’t a figment of my imagination. There is no note, but I would have found that out of character for him. I come up empty.

Ignoring the sinking feeling invading my gut, I traipse back to my bedroom and pick up my phone.

There are only a few missed texts from Charli, but nothing from Andrew. Tossing my phone on the bed, I accept the writing that’s bleeding down the wall.

He left.

But why?

It doesn’t matter why. What matters is that he got what he wanted and left.

That’s a tough pill to swallow. So tough, in fact, that it forms a stupid lump in my throat that makes it impossible to go down.

In the bathroom, I stand in front of my vanity and study myself from head to toe. I don’t look any different on the outside but last night definitely changed me.

I’ve never been so consumed by desire and passion. It was earth shattering. The most incredible experience of my life. My first taste of true bliss. And maybe my last.

My eyes trail lower, past the red marks on my collarbone and landing on my erect nipples. Just thinking about last night has me wound up and ready to go. That is until my eyes reach the blue paint on my thighs.

A blue so similar to the ones staring into my own last night. A blue that had a calming effect on me last night. But now it just drudges up regret and the desire to scrub away every single memory.

***

After a painfully uneventful day at the office, I’m finally headed home. I think of stopping by the store on my way home to pick up some wine, but ultimately decide against it.

I think my poor liver deserves a break from all the cheap alcohol it’s endured over the summer.

Traffic is surprisingly light despite the hour as I navigate my car to my apartment building on the outskirts of town.

I try my absolute best not to focus on the fact that it’s after five and I haven’t heard a peep from Andrew all day.

It’s so unlike him. Or maybe it isn’t. Maybe he’d just been playing a role to get in my pants. Maybe now that he’s gotten what he wanted, he no longer needs to contact me. Maybe this was his plan all along.

Bitter bile rises in the back of my throat as I berate myself for being so naïve. Of course this is what he wanted. A man like Andrew is used to things going his way.

I presented a temporary obstacle and he pulled out all the stops until his goal was achieved.

Feeling cheap and used, I let myself into my apartment just as my phone begins ringing.

All those thoughts are immediately tossed aside as I frantically search through my bag to find the ringing device.

But Andrew’s name is not the one glaring back at me. Nope. It’s my mom making her weekly check-in call from Tampa.

Great.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my mom to death, but I’m not in any condition to have an upbeat conversation with her right now and convince her that my life is all peachy keen.

However, I know if I don’t answer she’ll just keep calling and leaving voicemails until I eventually pick up.

“Hi Mom,” I greet after the fourth ring.

“Lilah, darling, I was afraid I was going to have to leave a voicemail. What are you up to, dear?” she asks in one long cheerful breath.

I certainly didn’t inherit my testy demeanor from my mom. She’s all sunshine and rainbows. Florida is the perfect place for her.

“I’m just getting home for the evening. How are you, Mom?”

“Oh, well you know me. No complaints as long as I have air in my lungs.”

Well, she has a point there.

I’ve never known my mom to complain or dwell on negativity. I’m aware that I could really learn a thing or two from her. But easier said than done, right?

Kicking off my shoes, I head for the kitchen to retrieve a nice tall glass of ice chips. Yes, my air conditioner has been fixed for a few days now, but I need something to take the edge off.

“What have you been up to this week? Any new projects around the house?” I ask, knowing her love for DIY projects and gardening has no bounds.

“Well, since you asked…”

She goes on to tell me about the most beautiful petunias she picked up at the nursery today. As she goes on and on about finding the perfect place to plant them, I’m thankful for the mindless chatter.

I put her on speaker and change out of my work clothes into a pair of stretchy yoga pants and a sports bra. I’m piling my hair on top of my head when she asks a question that throws me off balance.

“So, are you dating anyone?” she probes, her already chipper voice taking on a sing-song quality.

My mind instantly lands on Andrew and the last couple of weeks we’ve shared together.

He even told me I was his, so why am I feeling discarded?

Taking in another mouthful of ice, I give my mom an answer that’s as close to the truth as I can manage.

“Not really.”

Thankfully, it’s enough for her because she moves on to the next topic of discussion.

“God, I miss your crazy self!” I tell her laughingly after she’s finished telling me yet another story about her flighty next-door neighbor.

“Oh, I miss you too, honey. It’s a shame you won’t be able to make it down here this summer,” she laments sadly.

Guilt stings my eyes with unshed tears. As crazy as this summer is turning out, I could really use one of her hugs right about now. My road trip plans had fallen by the wayside when I took on this assignment with Edward.

“How’s Aunt Sara?” I ask quietly, referring to the aunt who planted the seed to reach as many people as I could through education.

“Oh, she’s great. She asked about you while we were in the garden earlier. You know if she were here she’d be demanding to speak to her favorite niece.”

That makes me smile. I’m her only niece but I still get a kick out of her calling me that no matter what.

Aunt Sara is my mother’s only sibling. She’s fifty-two-years old with high functioning autism. My mother moved to Tampa after she divorced my dad to be closer to Aunt Sara.

Aunt Sara is the reason I do what I do. She lived with us for a spell when I was a kid and it always bothered me to see how people treated her in public based on the perceptions of someone like her. That is, until they got a whiff of her overprotective niece and learned to back the fuck up.

As I grew older, it was heartbreaking to think of how the school system failed her due to lack of resources. Because Aunt Sara is high functioning and tests very high, she’d been placed in typical classrooms with teachers who were not equipped to cater to her learning style.

From an early age, it spurred me on to do something about students who may end up similar situations.

A few minutes later, I end the call with my mom feeling a little better than I did when I got home. Walking in the living room, I see the chaos left from last night and sigh heavily.

It’s time to restore some order to this place.