HER

Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. Just keep walking straight ahead. Don’t turn around. As many times as I repeat it to myself, it’s not until I reach my office that I know I can do it. As soon as I get to my desk, I sink into the chair, throwing my bags onto the desk, bracing my hands on the stacks of papers piled high. They tremble, giving away the shake of my hands.

It had taken everything I had to walk away from Kaine. After a sleepless night of replaying his reaction to me seeing him the shower, I’d decided that the Kaine chapter of my life was over. It was a shock to run into him, but I’d spent the last eight hours telling myself to push him out of my mind. Whatever it was I thought I’d felt last night was just a result of the strangeness of our circumstances. Of course, I was going to harbor strong feelings for him, he’d been there for me in the most critical moment in my life. But that’s all it was. Gratitude borne from trauma. He obviously felt nothing but annoyance when it came to me, so I was going to give him what he wanted. Me, gone.

“Yay! You’re here!” Harriet says, as she steps into the office a few seconds later. She comes over to me and her expression immediately changes.

“Oh, honey. Are you alright? You look like shit,” she tells me, honestly.

“Er, thanks,” is all I can muster as a reply.

I don’t know what has affected me more, trying to avoid the mob, being back in the place I was attacked... or him.

Harriet kneels down in front of me, taking one of my hands in hers. “Hey,” she says, her voice soft, her eyes searching mine, concerned. “No, really, you don’t look so good. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just, I popped a few stitches last night.”

“What?” She jumps up to her feet.

“It’s fiiiine. It happens.”

“No. Something made it happen.”

“I... was, I was just in a bit of a rush to get out of ... there.”

“Superman’s apartment?”

“His name is Kaine and... yes.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not in the business of doing what you want.”

I sigh and she pushes her chair over to mine. She plops herself down and gives me a look that tells me neither of us are going anywhere until I talk.

“Ugh. Fine. Bossy britches.”

“I’m not a bitch!”

“I said, bossy britches!”

“Oh, yeah, okay, that I am. Go ahead.”

“So, he came home.”

She jumps out of her chair and onto her feet again, “What?”

“Yeah, you’re going to want to stop doing that every time I tell you something surprising, because... it’ll be quite the aerobic workout.”

She sits back down again, her eyes still as wide as plates.

“He came home. Late, mind you. My poor pork chops,” I sigh.

“Excuse me?”

“I made pork chops! He was supposed to come home at 7 p.m. to eat them. And he was late and they were ruined.”

“Oh my god. When did you marry him?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You sound like an old, married, nagging wife!”

“Well, now I’m calling you a bitch!” I glare at her and she just laughs in response. “Anyway! He comes home and...um, catchesmeinhisbed.”

“Wha? Slow down.”

“Ugh, he caught me sleeping in his bed.”

“Dude. Did he get in with you?”

“HARRIET!”

“What? You don’t like sexy, mysterious, lifesaving, hero billionaires?”

“No,” I narrow my eyes at her. “Not this one, anyway. He’s an ass.”

“Ah, so what happened that had you poppin’ stitches to get out of there?”

“I, er, I caught him. In the shower.”

“How do you ‘catch’ someone in the shower exactly?”

“I went in to grab some clothes I had hanging up and, well, he was in the shower... showering. And he caught me. Staring.”

“Oh, Jade. Jadey Jade Jade Jade.”

“Oh shush, it’s NOT what you think! I wasn’t... perving on him.” Well, not just that.

She raises her eyebrows and I realize if I don’t explain, I won’t ever hear the end of it.

“Okay, ugh, this is in the strictest of confidence, okay?”

“Dude, opening the library vault and putting it in there.”

I take a deep breath and hope I’m doing the right thing, sharing with her.

“He, well, he was naked...”

“Hubba Hubba!”

“Shush.... he was naked, meaning... no hoodie.”

“Ah. OH!”

“Yeah. He, um, he has a pretty big scar running down the left side of his face. It looks like a burn. A really, really bad burn.”

“Oh my God.”

“Yeah.”

“Wow, you think he’s embarrassed by it?”

“I can’t think of any other reason.”

“Poor Superman.”

“It’s mystery man!”

“I wonder what happened to him. Oh wait, you said he caught you?”

“Yeah. I made a noise and he saw me staring. And he, well, in no uncertain terms told me to get the fuck out. And he never wanted to see me again. So, I grabbed my stuff and ran. And that’s probably when I stitch-popped.”

“Oh, honey. Are you okay?” Despite the excitement of the story, she’s still genuinely concerned about me.

“Yeah, I just went to a clinic and he stitched me up and I went home. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“You should’ve called me, I would have come to pick you up.”

“I know. I was fine, I just... needed to be on my own for a while. I’ll come stay with you tonight if you want.”

“Of course I want.”

“Well, I guess that’s that, then. End of the mystery man saga,” she sighs, almost sadly, and starts to push herself and her chair back to her desk.

“Actually...” I start to say and Harriet spins back around in her chair, “I banged into him this morning. Outside.”

“WHAT?!” And again, she’s on her feet.

“He, er, he was waiting for me, outside. Out back.”

“What for?”

“Apparently, to apologize,” I shrug. The truth is, I still don’t know what to make of it.

“Did you accept?”

“I said I understood. But the truth is, it IS over. It was fun while it lasted, all the mystery and stuff, but, he obviously wants to be left alone. So, yeah, I told him, he didn’t owe me anything, and we said our goodbyes.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“And you already miss him.”

“What? I do not!”

“Oh, really, is that why, when I came in you looked like Juliet after Romeo ran away?”

“Firstly, for someone who works in a library you sure are unwell-read. Romeo didn’t run away, he was banished. And secondly, I’m not a 14-year-old star-crossed lover. I’m a 28-year-old, cranky and injured, genealogist. There’s nothing Juliet Capulet about me. And now, I’d like to get back to work.”

“Fine,” she huffs.

“Fine,” I huff back.

We both turn to our work and it’s quiet, for a minute. But it’s clear neither of us are really thinking about work, so it’s no surprise to me when she speaks up again. “It’s just... him coming today means something. That he would make that effort, when really, he’d gotten rid of you. And I think it’d do you both good to find out what that is.”

“You...” I start to protest.

“Hush, I’m going back to work now.” Harriet cuts me off and gives her computer screen her full attention again.

“Yeah. Right.” The ring of my cell phone in my purse saves her from a death glare. “Hello, Jade speaking,” I say into the phone.

There’s a garbled, almost unintelligible voice on the line. But I know who it is.

“Where are you?” I jot the information down on my pad. “Just stay there. I’ll be right there. You’re going to be alright.”

I pick my bag up and sling it over my shoulder, ignoring the pain in my side, now replaced by a pain in my chest.

“I gotta go, Harriet. Tell Harold I’ll be out for the rest of the day.”

I’m out the door before she can say a word.