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Just something to calm my nerves.
I walk down the hall and toward the kitchen, and when I arrive, my heart stops. Standing in the dark, next to the island, I can just barely make out the silhouette of a person.
I take half a step back as my brain struggles to process what I’m seeing.
Then—
“Can’t sleep either?”
“Oh my god! Memphis!” The words come out on a breath. A gasp. A sigh of relief. “I thought you were…” I don’t know how to finish the sentence. I have no idea who I thought he was. The man from next door, most likely, but I’m not sure what to call him or how that would make any sense. “You scared the crap out of me. What are you doing down here?”
“Same thing as you, I’d guess. I couldn’t sleep,” he says simply.
I sigh. My hands are still shaking as I cross the room and pull open a cabinet, feeling for a glass in the dark. The only light in the house right now is the moonlight coming through the windows.
I move toward the fridge and fill my glass with cool water from the dispenser.
When I’m done, I look down, not turning back to face him. “I know what I saw,” I whisper.
He’s quiet for a long time.
When I spin back around, I repeat myself, this time louder. “I know what I saw, Memphis.”
“I heard you.”
“Why didn’t you answer?”
“Because I don’t want to talk about it.”
I step toward the island, placing my glass down. “Well, I do.”
“Well, go talk to Mara, then.”
“She’s asleep. I’m talking to you.” I have no time for his games or his grumpy mood right now.
“Look, I have no idea what’s going on and, frankly, that terrifies me. But there’s nothing we can do by freaking ourselves out talking about it.”
“You saw the couple,” I remind him.
“I know I did.”
“But you don’t believe me?”
He steps toward me, seemingly without realizing he’s done it. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Lena, I believe you. It’s just…I wish you were wrong.”
I drop my chin to my chest, running a finger along the rim of my glass. “I wish I was, too.”
“I don’t understand what’s going on or why the police didn’t find anything at the house. All I want to do is keep you safe and get you out of here, but leaving feels worse somehow, and I—” He cuts himself off. “I just fucking hate this.”
It’s my turn to step toward him, and I come to stop just a few inches in front of his chest. I rest my hand on the island, sliding it across the granite top until I feel his fingers. I stop there, my heart racing, throat tight. “Thank you for wanting to keep me safe.”
He’s as still as a statue. “Don’t read too much into it.”
“I would never,” I whisper.
