We speak in hushed tones. I find myself asking, “Why’d you text Alex?”
“Oh.” Casually as anything, Aleena says, “I text him sometimes.”
“Youdo?”
She waves it off. “Just…medical questions. When the kids get fevers. Rashes. Once, Squeaky shoved a marble up his nose and Alex paid a house visit.” She frowns. “Don’t look at me like that. Medical care is expensive, Reddit is unreliable, and he answered my questions for free.”
“No, I know…” She thinks I’m betrayed that she kept in touch with my ex, but I’m not. That’s not it. I’m touched, honestly. He goes out of his way for my family, even when I’m not looking. “I’m glad you reached out to him. Really.”
I knock my leg against hers. Aleena looks exhausted. “How are you doing?”
“I’m okay,” she says. Her gaze falls to the peacefully sleeping children, and I see a hint of a smile touch her lips. She seems to genuinely believe it when she says, “We’re going to be okay.”
Aleena only gets a couple sips in before she has to lie down. I go into the bathroom, closing the door behind me so I don’t wake anyone up, and rinse the two wine glasses off in the bathroom sink.
My phone vibrates.
[Text: Phantom]
Update?
[Text: Ophelia]
Safe and sound at Casa La Seekers Club. Everyone’s tucked in.
[Text: Ophelia]
Thank you. Again.
[Text: Phantom]
Your family is my family.
Warmth floods my chest at that text. I can’t help but smile. I bite my lip, thinking, then send back:
[Text: Ophelia]
I had to take down some of your decorations.
I go into the drawer, pull out the picture of my arms bound, and snap a photo of it. Then I message the photo to him.
Phantom types. Overthinks. Deletes.
Oh, this is fun.
[Text: Phantom]
I like to admire my handiwork.
[Text: Ophelia]
By “admire” do you mean “jerk off to”?
Phantom replies with a picture of his own. It’s clear this one is taken in real-time. It’s a selfie of him in his uniform, riding in the front seat of the ambulance. He’s scolding me with lifted eyebrows; a look that’s often followed by a firm strike on the ass.
I zoom in on the picture. The grey stubble climbing his jawline. That crescent moon birthmark. The faint crinkle of skin around his eyes. The stern expression that sends me, just a little bit, into subspace.
He might as well have sent a dick pic, the way his expression sends shivers rippling over my skin.
