I grabbed my phone and tried to doom-scroll my worries away. But nothing could distract me. The longer it took to hear back from Aiden, the more my agitation and fear grew.
After a half-hour of cat videos that did nothing to soothe my nerves, I finally decided I needed a way to expel some of the excess energy. The last thing I needed was to unleash some of that onto Aiden when we talked.
Because that was all we could do. I’d have to be strong and find a way to deny him when he undoubtedly asked me to come over. There was no way I could have this conversation face-to-face. I didn’t need to see the heartbreak and betrayal on his face.
Or be an easy target for him to arrest.
Not that I would resist if, or when, he found me. I’d never risk hurting him.
Growling in frustration, I made my way to my home gym and taped up my wrists and unleashed on my punching bag. I worked up a sweat for over an hour, throwing punch after punch. But while I was physically drained, my mind still raced.
Thoughts of Aiden were still there, at the forefront of my mind. All the lies I’d told him. The half-truths. The scars.
And there’d be so many more I caused him. Because not all scars were visible on the skin.
I flinched at the thought of inflicting any more damage to him.
Leaning against the wall, I ripped the tape off my hands and wrists and slid down until I was sitting. I’d never felt so alone, so unsure. My whole body felt like it was being torn apart. But I had no one to blame but myself.
Didn’t I?
I knew that I really couldn’t blame myself. That I’d been born the way I was and no medications I’d been prescribed were able to curb my impulses, no matter how much my parents, or I, tried.
A sob escaped my lips and I reached up a shaky hand to my face, surprised to find tears wetting my cheeks. I’d never cried before. Not even when my parents had died, and that had been the first time I had felt true emotion, a sadness that had dug its claws into me and didn’t want to let go.
I wiped the tears away and refused to dwell on what they meant. There wouldn’t be another incident like that time. I couldn’t go into another meltdown, not with Aiden so close.
My stomach growled and it gave me something to focus on. I stood and went over to the bench, where I’d tossed my phone, and scrolled through a food delivery app for something appealing. Finally, I settled on Chinese, still ordering enough for two, even though I had no intention of seeing Aiden.
But I couldn’t stop myself from getting his favorites. Maybe I could sneak it over there and have it waiting on his porch, or even his counter, for when he got home.
With plenty of time until the food arrived, I eyed the rest of the equipment but shook my head, deciding against working out any more. My shoulders had started to feel the burn and I didn’t want to overdo it, especially since I didn’t know whatthe talkwith Aiden would entail. Instead, Iwandered back to the living room and fell onto the couch, letting my head fall back.
As I sat there, worry churned in my gut. I couldn’t believe that I was at the point where I was considering myselfluckyif it was only a breakup talk. Though, before our run-in at the office, I thought things had been going great. Not that I was a good judge of any of that.
I let out a sigh and scrubbed my hands over my face.
Maybe it would be for the best if he did break up with me. I was dangerous to be around, especially with the way I’d been feeling the last couple weeks. My control had been slipping and I didn’t know how to get it back. The only difference in my life and routine had been Aiden. Having him near messed with me, but not having him near messed with me even more.
A few minutes later, the doorbell interrupted my spiral. I walked to the door and opened it to see a man who looked to be in his early twenties, probably in college, if I had to make a guess.
“Hey,” I greeted the man at the door, who held the bag with my food as I put my hand in my pocket to grab my wallet, but it wasn’t there. “Sorry, I think I left my wallet in the kitchen. Would you mind following me?”
He looked around and shrugged. “Sure.”
I walked back the way I’d come, past the living room and dining room, toward the kitchen. It didn’t escape my notice that the man gawked at the place as he trailed after me. I smirked, knowing I had a great house where the interior had been fully customized with exposed beams, hardwood, and polished concrete flooring, with large throw rugs around. My furniture was plush and extravagant, as I was a creature built for comfort.
The perks of being rich. Not to mention, a developer and having the best contacts for contractors, designers, and architects.
Sometimes, it was great to be me.
“This is a really nice house,” he gushed as we made our way into the industrial kitchen with the double stoves, large farm sink, and an island that went on for days.
If I had a kitchen like this, I wouldn’t be ordering takeout,” he joked as he put the bag on the island and turned to get a view of the rest of the house while I grabbed my wallet.
“Thanks. And yeah, I know what you mean. The kitchen is fabulous. And I do love using it, but some days, you just prefer to have someone else do the cooking.” I chuckled as I reached for my wallet. But then, at the last moment, I changed course and grabbed a short, thin, and very sharp knife from the block and quietly made my way to where he had moved to the doorway to continue admiring the house.
I snuck up behind him and had one arm wrapped around his neck, tilting his head back just as I brought the knife up, before he even knew what was happening.
