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My pocket vibrates with a message.
Prue.
I’m about to take out my phone, read her sexy words, text her back that I’m coming for her. Right after I wash the man’s greasy smell off me, that is. Before I do, though, something stops me.
Call it a sixth sense. Call it divine intervention.
I call it an inner voice demanding I read what’s printed on the business card in my grip.
I flip it, bringing it closer to my eyes.
My breath gets knocked right out of my lungs.
It’s hard to read the small black letters with only streetlights a few feet away.
It’s hard, but not impossible.
Especially when I recognize the name.
I’m way too familiar with it.
Dr. Jason Fox, Obstetrician-Gynecologist.
Motherfucker.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Prue
Myheartsinkslowin my chest. From there it dips downward, slipping fast into my belly.
If I give Theo’s text another thought, the most sensitive part of me will fall right down to the floor.
And when I read it again, the beating, disappointed organ does just that.
Theo:Sorry, Three. Something came up. I’ll have to postpone our date for tomorrow morning. I’ll make it up to you. I love you.
True, most of what he wrote is sweet. More than I can expect from a cold man like him. I shouldn’t bite my nails and stress over this last-minute cancellation.
Shouldn’t hug my knees to my chest on my couch, reading it over and over, obsessing over where he’d have to go at this hour out of nowhere. Especially since I know it’s not to see a patient, or he wouldn’t have been so secretive about it.
Least of all, I shouldn’t resent the feeling of his cum on me. I don’t. Not a lot.
It’s funny how the mind works. How you think the anxiety of being left behind has finally disappeared, lets you have your moments of peace you’ve been craving your whole life.
Only to find out it’s been patiently lurking in the corner of your mind, biding its time.
It’s a master of deception, blending in the shadows, lurking, growing slowly in anticipation of the slightest trigger.
In those days, weeks, or months, it gains in strength and when it comes barreling down on your soul’s doorstep, it’s everywhere. It lets itself inside uninvited and smashes to pieces all the plates and glasses you worked so hard on rearranging in its absence.
That’s what’s going on in my heart now.
Calamity.
Instead of believing something went wrong and being compassionate for whatever has Theo canceling at the last minute, other, more depressing thoughts emerge.
He used the family emergency excuse earlier today to be with me.
