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Silence.
I head to the door, opening it and peering down the empty unlit hallway.
My guest room with all my clothes in it is at the other end of this top level and as I spy its half-closed door, I decide to make my way over, naked.
He told me that Stanley is on strict instructions not to come in if we’re in the house unless getting permission first.
And hey, if Grey catches me like this, that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, would it?
As my feet take me over, I can’t help but glance through the open doorways along the way—empty bedrooms and studies, I think. I’m tempted to wander inside, just as I was tempted to open the drawers next to Grey’s bed, my longing to alleviate my fear that he’s hiding secrets tugging at me.
But I can’t do that. I’d positively hate it if he did that to me…
At the top of the stairs, I call out his name, listening out only to be met with silence. I let out an anxious sigh and head to the guestroom where I grab some dark leggings and pull them on as well as a bra, T-shirt and an oversized beige woolen sweater—all clothes that Grey had delivered here for me.
It’s strange to wear clothes someone else has picked out for you. I hated the way Micah would micromanage my outfits, usually giving in by the end in order to not have him give me shit me all night long.
But when I put on the clothes Grey had brought for me, I feel… comforted.
I really don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.
I glance at my phone to see some missed calls—Fran, Marilla, a couple of yoga buddies, and then some others.
Six missed calls this morning. The number private.
Anxiety makes my pulse skyrocket as I listen to the messages on my phone, breathing out in relief to find just two, one from Marilla and another from a friend.
I’m still paranoid about all those weird calls I got when I left Micah—the silent calls, the anonymous ones, on top of all the ones he made from his own number.
Even after he got locked up, the horrible messages and weird calls kept going on, whether I changed my number or not. I have no idea how he found it again. At one point, I couldn’t shake the thought that someone close to me must have given it to him… but who?
I trust Marilla, Orpha and Harry with my life, as I do Fran and Rami, and most of my friends.
I gave Kohl the new numbers but he hated Micah as much as I did, even though he only knew half the story of what happened with him.
And then my mother… On one of her better days, she’s an empathy-devoid goblin creature with all the maternal instincts of a food processor, but she’d never do something as insane as giving my ex my number… Would she?
I mean, she did like him, for reasons I never fully got, and if I told her we had problems, she’d invariably blame me. Mind you, she’s always done that, as if trying to train me to tolerate the worse possible conduct in others, including herself…
I head to my message inbox to see a message from her, kicking myself for once again not having the guts to block her for good, in no small part because she starts harassing all my friends if I do.
You don’t deserve decent parents.
Ungrateful whore.
You can burn in hell for all I care.
Just the usual, then, Mother.
As I archive the chat once more, pretending it doesn’t make me want to burst into tears, another message comes through, making me jump.
Kohl again.
Hey Indie. Just wanted to say hi. Hope you’re good.
He’s nicer now than he was when we were together, though him being the first man I was with since the trauma of Micah didn’t exactly help our relationship.
I decide to respond.
