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“Not tonight, bud.” I rough his fur up as I grab the throw blanket from the couch.
Spartan finishes eating in record time. I snag a fresh beer from the fridge and walk out the back door with him hot on my heels. He bolts past me and scavenges the yard for who knows what.
While he forages for lizards that aren’t there, I grab the lighter from the cabinet beneath the fire bowl, crank the gas, and ignite the rocks. Kicking back on the lounger, I sip beer number two and stare up at the black sky.
Tonight, the sky is absent of bright, twinkling lights. No stars to guide me. To lead me in the right direction. To guide me down this new path.
It is just me in the darkness with only man-made fire to light my way. The irony isn’t lost on me.
Maybe I should have called Autumn rather than texted her. At least I would have heard her voice. Gotten an idea where her head is after being served. After she read the painful lines on the scariest document. I may be reading the whole situation too deeply, but even her texts feltoff. Clipped. Glum. Harsh.
God, I just want her in my arms. To be by her side and help make this all vanish. Figure out a way to fix this for her. Make it so she never worries about someone trying to take away the most important person in her world.
Long after I empty my beer, Spartan nudges my elbow. His way of telling me he is bored and wants to go inside. I sit up from the lounger and extinguish the fire. “C’mon, bud. Let’s go.”
Woof, woof, woof.
Although the muscles in my face have refused to let me smile all day, this dog brings one out of me anyway. Never have I met or owned a dog like Spartan. Wild and crazy and my main man. Perfect.
And with the uncertainty revolving around Autumn, I am grateful to have Spartan to cuddle me when home. To keep me company and drive me up the wall on occasion.
I toss the brown bottle in the recycling bin then heat up a small portion of leftovers. I eat to satisfy my stomach—seeing as I have eaten next to nothing—and not my taste buds. After I clean my plate, I turn off all the lights and go to my room.
I tug my shirt over my head and toss it in the hamper. Then my socks and jeans. Spartan hops on the bed and settles where he normally sleeps when it is just us.
Statically pulling back the comforter and sheet, I slip under the covers. But as soon as I bring them to my chest, a waft of Autumn’s scent hits my nose and takes residence. Her cherry vanilla perfume floats up my nose and drowns me.
And all I do is drag the bedding closer to me. Close my eyes and inhale deeper. Picture her in the bed next to me—hair loose and framing her face as she leans in to kiss me. The warmth of her skin as it melds with mine. Her soft lips as they brush mine and take me prisoner.
I groan into the darkness as the throb in my chest expands and I fist the bedding. No matter what it takes, I will make this better. Because,fuck, there is no way I can live without her.
THREE
AUTUMN
How does four days feel like a lifetime?
The whirlwind makes me dizzy. Sick to my stomach. The earth never felt this lopsided. This uneven and unpredictable. My life flipped upside down Sunday and I no longer know which way is up.
The day started out perfect. Full of warmth and love and everything I have missed out on as a woman. Waking up with Jonas beneath me in bed was nothing short of bliss.God, I miss him. Miss his heat and heart and whispered affection. His arms wrapped around my waist. We spent the day together like a normal couple. We enjoyed life. Simply being near each other—breathing the same air, sharing blissful smiles, and walking hand in hand.
Every facet of our weekend was sublime.
Then our bliss was stolen. Our bubble popped. Yanked out from beneath our feet and knocking us on our asses.
Leo. FuckingLeo.
Never have I been a violent person. Never have I sunk so low as to intentionally hurt someone. Physically, mentally, or emotionally. It isn’t in my makeup. Inflicting hate makes me nauseous.
But sinceLeowaltzed back in and threatened my livelihood, threatened my sanity, I have conjured up countless ways to make him disappear from the world. Allowed my mind to adventure into some dark places.
None of the horrible ideas will come to fruition, nor will I speak them aloud, but they continue to pop up like an uninvited guest.
The funniest, nonviolent idea so far… tattooing “commitment issues” on his forehead. Or better yet, instead of his forehead, the best place is just above his dick. So every woman sees it when he strips bare. So every woman questions why. Questions him. No doubt Rex and Reznor would be up for the challenge.
Beside me, Clementine stirs and slowly wakes. And I envy this little girl right now. How she remains oblivious to what’s happening with her sperm donor and the obstacle he threw our way. How she continues each day with a smile on her face and love in her heart.
And as long as there is breath in my lungs, I will keep her in oblivion. Keep her safe—physically, mentally, emotionally—from whatever tricks Leo has up his sleeve.
