Goddess

The upstairs isnothing like down below. It is immediately evident that this part of the house was not included in the mentioned renovation. It holds an old charm with original wood floors and oil paintings. It’s like stepping into another era. Huxley opens the door to my room, and inside is just a full-size bed and a dresser. It’s not much, but I’m thankful. I recognize this room for what it is—a blessing.

“Let me get you some sheets and blankets for your bed,” Huxley says from behind me.

He disappears only briefly before he comes back with an arm full of bedding. He busies himself making the bed, and I take a moment to stare at him. His back muscles stretch his muscle shirt to capacity. His arms are a sculpted dream. I have to keep reminding myself that I’m not interested in the male species, courtesy of Arlo, but I’m not blind. I’m sure glad he turned out not to be an axe murderer. A girl may just surrender willingly to a body and face like that. The way his jeans hug his ass is downright tipping the scale of unfairness. No man should have that much perfection. He has to be flawed somehow. Good looking and sweet. I’ll have to keep my distance from this one and keep my mind on the purpose of my staying here.

“Goddess?” He is now looking at me expectantly. Apparently, I missed his question while drooling over his physique.

“What was that? I missed the question,” I admit.

“I asked if I could get you anything else.” He eyes me suspiciously. Does he know where my thoughts drifted off to?

“No. Thank you so much for everything. You and your mother have been more than generous. I appreciate the kindness.”

“Well, the bathroom is down the hall to your right. Rest up. You start work in the morning, and it’s already late.” He turns to leave, and I have a moment of clarity. At his mention of it being late, I realize I have no idea what time it is.

“Wait. How will I know when it’s time to get up?” I ask worriedly.

“Well, your job is right downstairs, so you don’t have to get up terribly early. If you’re up by seven, you should have plenty of time to get ready.” His eyebrows knit in confusion. He probably doubts I can even do the job with a question that basic.

“I meant, how will I know when it’s seven? I don’t have an alarm clock or a phone, remember? I don’t want to oversleep.”

“Oh. That’s right. Hold on a sec. I think I saw an extra alarm clock in the hall closet.” He leaves the room once again and returns moments later. He plugs it in and sets the current time for 11:00 p.m. before setting the alarm. He places the clock on the dresser across the room from the bed, so I have no choice but to get up in the morning to turn it off. Nicely played.

“Okay, good night, Miss Hitchhiker,” he teases. I can’t help the silly grin that spreads across my face. I can’t remember how long it’s been since I smiled this much, but it feels nice.

“Good night, my shiny knight,” I say to his back, but he’s already leaving the room.

Once he’s gone, I reflect on today’s events and how far I’ve come. I’m sure Arlo knows I’ve left by now. Will he come looking for me? Will my parents? I left a goodbye letter for him, so he knows I left on my own free will and that I’m okay. I left behind all the material things he’s ever bought me, including my phone. The phone I only said I lost. Unfortunately, that means I don’t have many possessions since he threw out nearly all my stuff when I moved in with him. They weren’t up to his standards for a man of his status. All that was originally mine fits inside my backpack. He can have everything else back. As one last act of rebellion, I withdrew five hundred dollars from one of the credit cards he had given me. Although much of it went toward my bus fare, I figured he owed me at least that much for tossing my things without my permission. More than that, actually. I don’t know what the actual value was but definitely worth more than the money I took, so I feel good about my choice.

I’ll take a shower in the morning since it’s already late. I pull the only pair of jeans I own out of my bag, a pair of panties, and a worn Stanford T-shirt that once belonged to my dad. I’ll have to find time to buy a bra as soon as possible since I didn’t bring any. Arlo preferred me braless or in the overpriced crap he purchased from La Perla. Let him give it all to the next woman he decides to play dress-up with. I lay everything across the dresser next to the clock and hop into bed. Tomorrow starts my new journey.