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“Keep your doors locked,” I tell her sternly and take another step back.
She doesn’t answer my demand, but I know she heard it. I stay halfway between her house and the car and wait for her to grab her suitcase and carry it inside. It hurts when she doesn’t look back at me, but I force the pain away.
Soon, I’ll have her back and nothing will become between us again.
Chapter Eighteen
Poppy
I close the door behind me, making sure to lock it. I’m still in a state of shock at what I just witnessed. Asher wasn’t lying when he said he had cameras throughout my house. I followed the tall blond man, Wyatt, as he went to each room and pulled out tiny cameras from small hiding places I would have never thought to look. Wyatt went to each one, like he knew just where they were. I’m hoping that Asher told him where he placed them and didn’t know their location because he’s seen the footage. I wouldn’t think that Asher would allow that, but what do I know? With each camera revealed, the churning in my stomach grew. Every single room had a camera, except for the bathroom. Knowing I kept that small bit of privacy doesn’t help make me feel better.
I turn and watch out the small window in my front door as Wyatt climbs in his big truck. Before driving off, he pulls his phone out and speaks with someone for a couple minutes. I’m sure he’s probably telling Asher that the cameras have all been removed. When he first knocked on my door, I was reluctant to let him in. Anyone to do with Asher makes me nervous, especially with the reason why he was here. But my need to have the cameras gone had me pulling the door open and allowing him entrance. I don’t know for sure if he got them all, but for some unknown, asinine reason, I don’t think Asher would allow him to leave any behind. I may not trust him anymore, but it’s obvious he’s in pain as well. I just don’t know if it’s because he lost something he considers his property or if it’s because he genuinely cares about me.
Last night was hard. I was constantly looking over my shoulder, knowing there were cameras all around me. I didn’t even try to find them, knowing that even if I did manage to find any, I wouldn’t have been able to find them all. I hated being here, in my own home, knowing Asher could have been watching me at any given second. I wonder if he did. I actually hid in my shower to change my clothes, and I sure as hell didn’t sleep naked. It’s been years since I slept with clothes on. I don’t know if it was that that kept me up last night, knowing everything that I do now, or if it was the dreams I had. Either way, I got maybe an hour of sleep, and now I’m exhausted.
My phone rings from the kitchen, pulling me from my thoughts. Even hearing my phone ring frays my nerves. Each time it does, my stupid freaking heart leaps, knowing it could be Asher. I don’t want to talk to him, but I still can’t help but miss him. I miss Sterling too, with his slight accent that I feel a fool falling for.
I grab my phone with sweaty palms and look down at the display. Disappointment and relief both play in my head at seeing Liv’s name. I push ignore instead of answering it. She’s called several times since yesterday, but I’m still not ready to talk to her yet. I hate keeping her in the dark, she’s the closest thing to family I have, but there’s no telling what she’ll do once she finds out what Asher did. Today’s Monday, so I’m sure she went to work. I’m sure Asher did as well. After all, we’re no longer in Texas anymore, so there’s no reason for him to stay home. I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize her job, and I know she’ll freak out and feel obligated to say something to him that may cause just that.
I called in first thing this morning. I purposely waited until ten minutes after eight to ensure that someone else was in the office besides Asher. My excuse was that I was sick, but I’m sure once Asher found out I wasn’t coming in he saw through my ruse. Stupid he is not. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go back to work for him. It would be too hard to see him every day and not touch him.
I try to occupy my time by doing mundane things. Rearranging my living room, cleaning the spare room, going through and discarding old clothes, sitting out on the back porch and reading. Nothing works. The only thing I manage to do is picture Asher in each room I go to. My visions moved from him wandering around, plundering through my things, to us both sitting on my couch, snuggled up, watching a movie. Or me standing at the stove cooking dinner while he sat at the bar, watching me. Us cozied up in bed, murmuring nonsense to each other as we wait for sleep to come for us. Me sitting on his lap in a lounge chair on the back porch, him drinking his nasty beer while I drink my wine.
It was those visions that kept me on the verge of tears. I want those things to come true so much. Both Asher and Sterling were everything I wanted in a man. Protective, sweet, kind, smart, hardworking, tenacious. Although his intense belief that I was his as Sterling could come off as too strong sometimes, I still loved that he felt that strongly about me. Besides my parents, I’ve never had that feeling before. I’ve never been so completely wanted by a man.
I pull myself from my thoughts as I make my way to my room. It’s probably futile to even attempt, but my body is running on empty. I lay down on my white comforter and roll to my side. Gathering my pillow, I hug it to my chest. I try to push thoughts of Asher aside, but they just won’t leave me. Why can’t I get him out of my head? You’d think after what he did I’d despise him, but my stupid heart won’t let me. Yes, I’m angry and hurt by his actions. I hate knowing h
ow vulnerable I was with him, and I still feel a small bout of fear, but I can’t help but wonder if I’m making a mistake by pushing him away. What if what we had was real? What if he truly does love me? What if his actions were born out of desperation, or if the excuse he has for not coming to me is sincere and reasonable? What if my fears and anger are keeping me away from the best thing that could ever happen to me?
But what if he’s dangerous? my mind taunts me.
That’s what’s holding me back. The unknown. If he’s capable of putting cameras in my house, sending me on dates with jerks, following me around in his car, and breaking into my house at night, what else is he capable of? It’s strange, really. When I knew him as just Sterling, someone I didn’t know at all, my desire to know him more far outweighed my fear of the unknown. But now that I have a face to go with the name and it’s someone I knew all along, my fear is keeping me from moving forward. It’s the pain of betrayal that won’t let me accept him for who he is and what he’s done. That’s what I can’t get over.
My phone at my hip jingles an incoming text. My heart pounds heavily in my chest when I read the message.
Asher: I miss you.
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to force the tears back, but they fall anyway. I miss him so much it takes my breath away until I can’t breathe. I only had him for two days as Asher, but I had him for weeks as Sterling. I didn’t recognize it at the time, but the two are the same. Their mannerisms and attitudes are so close; I’m surprised I didn’t see it before.
I don’t answer him, but I tuck my phone close to my head, just in case he texts back. I’m torturing myself with wishing he’ll reach out again. It’s stupid of me and only confuses me more, but my heart won’t let me feel anything else.
I throw a punch at my pillow, pissed he took away my happiness, then stuff my face in the damn thing, using it to muffle the broken sobs I know will take me a long time to overcome.
I don’t know how I managed it, but somehow I fell asleep. When I pull my eyes open, they feel swollen, and a piercing pain shoots through my head. I roll to my back and stare up at the ceiling, trying to get the pressure to go down. This is what I get for crying myself to sleep.
Once I’m reasonably sure that I won’t fall flat on my face when I get up, I slowly get up from the bed and go to the bathroom. I groan when I see my face in the mirror. I look an awful mess with my hair tangled, my face blotched with red, and my eyes bloodshot. After rinsing and drying my face, I walk out of my room, just as a knock sounds at my door. My steps are slow as I walk over to the door and peek out my window. A man in a white dress shirt, black slacks, and a black tie stands on my stoop. It’s what he’s carrying though that has me sucking in a breath. I thought he wouldn’t send them anymore, and it’s certainly not the day he normally does.
Confused, touched, and a little miffed at his audacity, I reluctantly pull open the door and see a big vase filled with pale purple roses. The man greets me with a charming smile. “Miss Lexington?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“I have a delivery for you. Would you like me to carry them in for you?”
As much as I enjoy getting the beautiful flowers, I can’t continue to accept them. I don’t want him to get the wrong idea if I do. This madness needs to stop. He promised to give me time, but him doing this isn’t that. Time really doesn’t matter anyway. I can’t go back to him.
“I don’t want them. Take them back, please,” I tell the guy.
He looks confused, like he’s unsure how to proceed. I’m sure it’s not every day that someone refuses a beautiful vase full of flowers. I certainly never thought I would.
