***
It was weird driving myself to work this morning from Killian’s place. Setting the alarm and locking Killian’s door, being in that apartment all by myself all night without him there.
I love that apartment, though. Tonight, I’m thinking about using the gym downstairs. I haven’t had a good workout in days.
Last night, I finally made myself eat a bowl of cereal when my stomach was growling at midnight. I found an opened box of Lucky Charms in the pantry and enjoyed the heck out of that bowl of sugary goodness, unable to remember the last time I’d had those.
I didn’t sleep very well. I wondered where Killian was that he had to be gone all night. When he’d be back.
I also felt a pang of sadness at the notion that maybe he was out with somebody. He certainly looked good when he left. Though… he always looks good.
That Jessa girl, maybe. She certainly seemed like she wanted to get his attention at Numbers on Saturday night.
I have no right to feel that way. It’s not like I’m ready to date. Am I officially even single yet? As of next week, I hope I will be. Though logistically, I have no idea how it’ll work. Will Ray do the smart thing and skip town and never turn up again? Will he try to rob a liquor store to get Killian’s money and wind up in prison? Will he not come up with the money and then get ‘disappeared’?
I really don’t think Killian is like that. But who knows? Not like I’m brave enough to ask. Though, I don’t exactly think of myself as a great judge of character these days.
Lunch with Cammy is good. Debbie doesn’t join us; is out for a couple days on a course for her job at the law firm. Cammy and I go to a little sushi place two blocks from work and she insists on buying. She tries to get me to talk about Killian. I deflect and get her to talk about herself instead, and it works for a while, too.
She’s in accounts payable at the company and I already know she’s going to school at night to get her CPA designation. She’s thirty and single, much to the chagrin of her parents who keep trying to arrange blind dates with people through their church. She and her cousin share a basement apartment in a house they bought together as an investment and they rent out the upper two floors to students.
Toward the end of the lunch hour, she abruptly stops sharing anecdotes of the crazy college kids living upstairs from her and the fact that one of them is flirting with her - a twenty-two-year-old guy who she describes as ‘ripped’ and with the bluest eyes she’s ever seen.
“Wait! You’re trying to distract me. What’s the story with your fiancé, with the sexy club owner? Tell me.”
“I’m in the midst of breaking up with Ray and I’m staying in Killian’s guest room right now.”
Her eyes go wide.
“It’s complicated.”
“Sounds like it,” she retorts and then takes a big sip of her drink, eyes on me, waiting for me to elaborate. When I don’t, she slaps the table. “That’s it; we need to get your lips loosened up. Cocktails Friday should help. You always say no so we stopped asking, but you need to come to McHop’s with us. For real.”
“Who’s us?” I ask.
“Me, Deb, some of the other girls from our office, probably. Tara, Lorraine. Deb’s coworker Molly. Come.”
“I might come. I’ll let you know closer to then, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna talk about anything that I’m not ready to discuss.”
“So, just come. Have fun. Let your hair down. It’ll be a laugh. Usually we only stay for one or two drinks. Sometimes we close the place. No pressure, other than to show up. Come for a drink, even a mocktail, and after that, it’s up to you.”
“I’ll try,” I say.
As we’re heading back to work, I get a prickly feeling up the back of my neck. Am I being watched? I look around curiously as it dawns that Wesley Traynor could be following me like he was last Friday. But I have no idea if Killian has Ray being watched. I’d guess yes. It also occurs to me that it could even be Ray watching me and I look around some more, biting my lip, feeling paranoid. I see nothing unusual and I nearly walk into a bus shelter before Cammy steers me in the right direction, joking that I’ve got my mind on Killian.
Maybe it’s just paranoia. Maybe someone is watching me.
***
Tuesday, 9:00 pm
A text alert interrupts my mindless staring at the TV in my room. I perk up at the phone and feel my face fall as my eyes scan the lock screen.