All the pills in the first row were in white bottles. I’d have to open up the packaging to see if they were good substitutes for my medications. How much would John detect? I went further back into the store, wrapping the wool cardigan around me. They kept these places as cold as a freezer.
I collected little bundles of jars in my arms that looked close enough to the prescriptions. Sweat beaded my forehead. I kept searching. A drop trailed down my neck; my stomach churned. Maybe if I was docile enough, complacent enough, bobbed my head like a doll, maybe then John wouldn’t notice. As long as I could keep these withdrawal symptoms down. But John never paid attention to me, unless I was disagreeable. So I had to be obedient. I grabbed a blue-tinted vial for melatonin. Without my sleeping drugs, I would probably needsomething,at least for now. I grabbed three of them, stacking them on top of the others.
A warm hand landed on my arm. “Your nights must be rough,” a smooth male voice asked.
I jumped, dropping the bottles. I scrambled to pick them up, and the man stood there, watching me. His smirk lit me on fire. He was mocking me. I stood up intending to glare at him for judging me, but he handed me a plastic shopping basket. I shrunk down, then added the pills to the container. His black hair was styled, his trimmed facial hair scratching over his face, his black eyes boring into me. His tailored suit was fit to his body and he towered over the shelves. I stepped back, clutching the handles of the baskets. Spice permeated the air. Was that the essential oils in the next aisle, or him?
“Excuse me?” I asked.
He tilted his head toward the blue vials. “That’s a lot of melatonin.”
I flushed, the heat boiling inside of me. “It’s nothing like that.”
A beat of silence passed. The front door chimed, another customer entering.
“You live in Opulent Gates,” the man said.
I lifted a brow, squinting my eyes at him. I didn’t recognize him from anywhere, and I always watched the streets.
“Do I know you?” I asked.
“I moved in last week. But I’ve seen you.”
My heart raced. I rarely left the house. How had he seen me?
“How do you like it?” I asked, feigning politeness. Why was I like this? Obligated into these stupid rituals of kindness. I made my way toward the cash register.
“I like it better now,” he said. “Now that I’ve met you.”
My skin crawled. His eyes studied me, washing over my body, even though I was wearing a cardigan that hid my shape. Why was he looking at me like that?
“I’ve got to get going,” I said. “My husband is waiting for me.”
“Dalton doesn’t have time for you,” a smile spread across his lips, “but I do.”
I ignored his comment. How did he know my husband’s name? I shook my head; John was a known name and face; it didn’t take much to know who lived in Opulent Gates. I paid for the vitamins and supplements with cash and left the store without another word. I hated going out. I hated talking to people. You never knew what people were capable of, what they were hiding.
But why did he make me feel hot all over?
By the time the evening came, the medicine cabinet was stocked like it had always been, and I had spent a small fortune covering up my lie.
But at least I wouldn’t be putting that poison in my body.
And I had poison.
Once most of the staff was occupied in the kitchen, I went to the linen closet and lifted a panel in the back, finding the stockpile of medications I had kept over the years. A pill here or there, in case I needed them. And in the very back, an old bottle of rat poison I had recently found in the garden shed. I put the extra vitamins and supplements in there to stock the bottles once I ran out.
When John returned, I had his whiskey ready on the nightstand. A headache pounded through me, but as long as I smiled and avoided moving, I would be okay. John slid into bed beside me, the aftershave still strong on his skin. He pawed my breasts through the silk nightgown. I closed my eyes, trying to remind myself that this was the life I had wanted. My ex had been addicted to pornography, and all I had wanted was for him to notice me.
Now, I had that with John, and I hated it. My drive to do anything like that had been non existent for a long time.
I let out a deep sigh. “I’m tired,” I said. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“I’m done waiting, Lena.”
I stiffened at my name. “I don’t want to do that tonight.”
“Take off your clothes.”
