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“We don’t need groceries. And If I leave, I don’t want you to leave the house. You’ve hit your head, lost your memory...” his voice lowers, “am I so terrible for worrying?”
He’s right. As my fiancé, it’s understandable he’s worried and my heart claps at the care. My pulse beats as he puts on his underwear and a sharp grey suit but his eyes are careful. He buckles his belt and I notice there’s still a bulge hinting beneath the fabric of his slacks and I can’t help but to go weak in the knees but now it’s too late.
I’ve already encouraged him to go and now I can’t take it back. Putting my hands behind my back, I hide my sudden hesitancy as he quickly grooms himself in the bathroom and grabs a bottle of some type of energy soda from the fridge. He turns in the hallway and his eyes roam down my body.
“When I come home, I want to find you in our bed wearing nothing but your engagement ring. Will you do that for me, beloved?”
Breathless I nod because I’ll do anything for him.
“Seeing you like this...” he grits between his teeth, “in my house, wearing white, waiting for me...its....it’s as close to paradise a man like me can come.”
“A man like you?” I whisper and a muscle ticks in his jaw.
“I’m not decent, Madlen.”
“I don’t think you’re decent,” I reply and his brows rise. “I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
7
Maker
Her words ring in my ears and make my heart hammer. I feel like I’m on a carousel even though I’m at my office, sitting in my chair. I can’t read what I’ve written, all I keep seeing is the expression on her face when she told me I was the best thing that ever happened to her.
Of course she thinks that. You’re practically the only man she knows.
I bury that pessimistic voice in my head, telling myself that she really meant it, that she felt it from her feminine depths and wanted me to know. I’m eager to get back to her. Being away from her feels like being held in a chokehold and I take a couple of deep breaths, trying to be rational. This is common. Love has a tendency to feel like an addiction, chemicals get released into the bloodstream, one may feel like he or she is walking in a state of endless ecstasy...
Inwardly I curse and frown. Repeating information, I learned in my textbooks is useless. What I feel is different. What Madlen and I have can’t be studied, can’t be made sense of and a part of me doesn’t want to make sense of it. What I want is to enjoy it...because I don’t even know how long this will last.
She may even be regaining her memory right now and I shift in my chair, pulling at my tie and do my best to ignore the panic I feel. And if she isn’t regaining her memory then what else is she doing? Laying on my bed, scrolling through her phone and attempting to call her male “friends” aka her fanboys aka guys who want tof...fu....fuckher? My hand clenches around the pen so hard that it breaks and I rub my forehead.
I need to calm down. She’s not calling anyone. Because there’s nobody to call. While she was asleep, I unlocked her phone using touch and removed every male contact except for her father and I doubt she’ll call him. I told them about their relationship and I was honest. If she wants to call him it’s up to her but I doubt he’ll answer.
Maybe I should have removed his number too? Maybe she’ll be wounded when she figures he doesn’t want anything to do with her....
The patient sitting in front of me asks me a question and I hurry to gather my thoughts and answer him.Get a grip, get a grip...Once the session is over and he’s out of the door, I reach for my phone and swiftly cancel the rest of the day. I shouldn’t have left Madlen alone and she shouldn’t have insisted. I turn off the office lights and am about to exit when the front door to the building opens and somehow I know it’s her.
Tensing, I rub my neck. If it is her then what is she doing here? Gritting my teeth, I reach for my coat but she’s already at the top of the staircase and her eyes flare at the sight of my coat.
“You’re leaving? Don’t. I want to see where you work.” She hurries inside, removing her own coat so fast it almost drops to the floor and I look at her with disproval.
“How did you get here, Madlen?”
“Called a cab,” she replies. “I searched for your info online and got this address...”
“You did what?” I grit out as she walks around in my office but she doesn’t care about my unnerved tone.
“I searched for my own info too.” She bites her lower lip and adrenaline hits me like a force of nature. “You didn’t tell me I have my own apartment. I looked through my purse but I couldn’t find any key.”
That’s because I took her key.
“It must have fallen out of your purse when you slipped on the street,” I say and she gives me a long look.
“Maybe. I was thinking of calling the landlord and then maybe you and I can go and check out the apartment...”
“You have everything you want and need at my place.”
Her mouth pulls to the side in hesitation. “Sometimes I feel like you’re hiding things from me...” she murmurs. Her mouth shivers and her eyes turn misty, draining me off energy. I don’t want to be reason why she’s hurting...
