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After polishing off breakfast, I boot up my iPad. My inbox is brimming with unread emails demanding my attention. With the morning off and a few errands to run in town, I decide it's time to roll up my sleeves and get to work.
Emails zip across my screen, one after the next. I tackle them methodically, opening each one to see if it's a pressing matter or just another update from my fellow therapists. Once I've sifted through my inbox, I make a grocery list, a mundane task that helps me refocus and get away from any nagging, troubling thoughts.
I head to my bedroom to change into comfortable clothes, ready to take on the day. I glance at the tattoo on my wrist, a blend of roses and chains symbolizing the unique bond I share with Kyle and Dean.
The day started typically enough, but now that I've wrapped up my shopping, I've got something special planned for the evening. As I drive home, the setting sun paints the sky in brilliant hues of red and orange, suggesting this evening might just be out of the ordinary.
Once home, Kyle's scent greets me along with a note on the fridge telling me he stopped by for a kiss before meeting the DA. I can't help but smile.Oh, how I love this man.
As I put away groceries, I ponder the surprise I have in store for Kyle and Dean. I want to make this night unforgettable. Scanning the pantry, I spot the dessert inspiration: a box of brownie mix. “Hmm, perfect with ice cream.”
The memory of Kyle playfully licking ice cream off me still makes me blush. It was a passionate, intimate moment, but left us so sticky we all ended up in the shower.
Just as I close the freezer, the doorbell rings, causing me to jump. I laugh, envisioning Kyle's amused face when he realizes he forgot his keys. However, every illusion shatters, forcing me to take a step back, horrified to see her in front of me. Looking so different from my memories, her vulnerable trembling gaze disarms me.
“What are you doing here?” I manage to ask, concealing my surprise. Greta is the last person I expected to show up, today or ever. I gesture for her to come in, but she hesitates.
“Can we take a walk?” she asks, her tone uncertain.
I nod, grabbing my jacket. I don't know why I agreed, but she looks different, scared, lost, even her attire is more conventional, as if she's abandoned her eccentric style.
Sliding my phone into my jeans pocket, I close the door behind me. “I know this isn't easy for you, but thank you,” Greta says, her voice lacking its usual confidence.
“What isn't easy for me?” I ask, determined not to seek for a malicious tone or an attempt to insult me.
“Putting up with me, which I deserve,” she sighs as we head toward the park.
Yeah.
She apologizes, confessing that she's messed up so much, she doesn't know how to even beg for forgiveness. I try to be compassionate, reminding myself there's always room for a fresh start if someone genuinely desires it. Still, a nagging voice in my head yells at me as an unsettling feeling takes hold.
“I always envied you because you nailed everything. Always so perfect,” she confesses, but I detect a hint of resentment in her tone.
“I'm far from perfect, Greta,” I respond honestly. Perfection isn't something I believe in. “We're all perfectly flawed and unique. The key is to be true to ourselves.”
“Yet you managed to snatch my husband too,” she continues, laughing with a bitter edge as she slows down her pace.
“Excuse me?” I blurt out, halting mid-bridge. Panic bells start ringing in my head. Damn, how did I not see this coming?
Greta begins to tell me about her crush on Kyle and her attempts to win him over, which he didn't reciprocate. He wouldn't even give her a second glance. As she recounts her tale, her voice sounds distant. I slide my hands into my jeans' back pockets, pretending to listen while I try to shoot an SOS to Kyle, a trick he taught me back when we were engaged. By now, he should be en route home, if not already there. I remember teasing him about it, but he insisted it would give him peace of mind, promising that he would come running if there was trouble.Please let it work.
As I feel the vibration, I look around to find us alone. The realization hits me - Greta is much closer than before.
“You're a whore.” She takes a swing at me, but I deflect her arm and shove her back. I'm not intimidated by her; I can hold my own. But something feels off, and I try to keep my cool.
“What the hell is your problem? Everything that's gone wrong is on you.” I retreat, knowing that if I engage physically, things could get ugly real fast.
“Of course, poor Dean.” She snivels. “You've always had a knack for meddling in other people's lives and wrecking them.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh look at her, now she's playing dumb.” The fury in her voice unnerves me, it's like an oncoming storm. “I've seen, you know? I'm not an idiot.”
“Seen what, Greta? I have no clue what you're talking about.”
“Don't play innocent, bitch,” she tries to hit me again but I step back. Greta continues to yell and rant, but her words are disjointed, senseless. She's ranting incoherently.
“Greta!” Kyle's voice rings out, making my head spin. The distress and anger in his voice are palpable as he sprints toward us.
