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Lachlan:
Hm… doesn’t seem like “nothing to worry about.”
Lachlan:
Why is he recommending you stay home? For how long?
I was hoping to not tell him this by text, but I should have known better. He’s going to be worried about me.
Me:
We’re going big with Kevin after what you heard. Not sure of all the details but Kevin will most likely find out today. Maybe even be arrested? Noah will send me an update when he can.
Lachlan:
I’ll be home soon. Love you.
Me:
Soon? It’s eleven in the morning. Please, don’t rush for me. I’m tucked in safely by the fire.
I fluff my hair and remove my sweater, leaving me in the revealing tank top I had on underneath. Turning my phone around, I take a selfie, showing that I’m wrapped in the blanket I have on. I hit send and wait for his response.
Lachlan:
If you didn’t want me to come home soon, you shouldn’t be luring me back with that gorgeous smile, perfect set of tits, and making me wish I was a goddamn blanket.
I laugh at his response.
Lachlan:
See you soon, Goldie.
Of course, that would be how Lachlan took it.
I toss my phone to the side and turn on my favorite reality TV show. I must be a glutton for punishment, living a life that could easily be replicated on this show of women stabbing each other in the back for our viewing pleasure.
Only one episode in, I hear movement on the other side of my front door.
I smirk.
I knew he’d leave early, but this is quicker than I expected. I know he resigned, but Lachlan still has duties to fulfill.
Getting up from the couch to greet him at the door, I see an envelope being pushed through the bottom crack of it. Quickly, I go to my door peephole to see who it is.
We have mailboxes on the first floor and a building board where news and invites can be shared. I’m not friends with anyone in my building yet.
When I look through the peephole no one is there.
I keep both latches of my door firmly locked and pick the envelope off the ground.
I open up the manilla envelope. It’s thin but larger and bigger than letter-size. This is peculiar.
I shake the envelope to have the contents spill into my hands to pull it out. When instead of a letter or a party invite, dozens of pictures fall to the ground. I lean down to gather them up.
I gasp in shock and my hands fly to my mouth, goosebumps appearing on my skin because of what I’m looking at. Dozens of photos of Lachlan and me are now scattered on my floor.
I scan the outside of the envelope. No sender information.
