Quadruple Duty: All or Nothing

“They do,” she smiled. “They do.”

Another pause. Another silence. When she looked at me again, the last of whatever facade she held up crumbled away. Staring into her eyes, all I saw was sorrow.

“Listen…” she said awkwardly, “I’m sorry about what happened between us. About… you know… about everything.”

I said absolutely nothing. I might’ve nodded the slightest, tiniest bit, but I really couldn’t tell.

“Well, it’s good seeing you again anyway,” she said as she turned away. She chuckled again nervously. “I always feared I’d run into you again. That we’d have words. Bad ones…”

Now I did nod. Dawn shrugged.

“I… I guess I didn’t expect it to go like this,” she said. “But I’m glad it did.”

She spun away, and I watched her make her way back up the aisle. For some reason I felt awful. Awful for her, but good for me. Good for the way I’d handled the situation. Glad to have gotten some kind of apology, even if—

“Hey! Dawn, wait…”

Before I knew it I was walking back up the aisle. She turned to face me as I removed a single key from my keyring.

“This is the key to my warehouse,” I told her. “You know where it is?”

She cocked her head, like she was unsure about my motivation. But she nodded anyway.

“Go get your stuff Dawn,” I said, pressing the key into her hand. “Your stuff — the stuff I took. Nothing else. Okay?”

Tears filled her eyes. Her hand was shaking as she closed her fingers over the key.

“R—Really?”

“Yes,” I smiled. “Really.”

It felt good, watching her slip the key into her pocket. Seeing the expression on her face change to one of reconciliation… and hope.

“Everyone would say you’re crazy to trust me again,” she admitted, “especially after what I did.”

“Yeah, well I never was one for sanity,” I joked. “Besides, I know you’ll do the right thing. Remember who I know, Dawn. Remember what I am now.”

My voice had gone stern enough that she knew I meant business. Somehow though, I knew it wasn’t necessary.

“T—Thank you, Sammara. Really.”

We smiled one last time and said our goodbyes. By the time she made it around the corner of the next aisle, a strange feeling stole over me. One I couldn’t put my finger on, until I was already on my way home.

It felt like closure.

Twenty

SAMMARA

It was early Sunday evening when I forced Melissa to go home. Though we’d had the most amazing girls’ time together, and she’d brought joy and happiness to my otherwise empty house, I didn’t want to keep her for too long.

“You sure you don’t want me to stay?”

“If I kept you another night,” I laughed, “Rich would kick my ass.”

“If anything he’d take it out on my ass,” she smiled wickedly. “Not saying I wouldn’t enjoy it.”

I smiled as I shoved her through the doorway. Same old Melissa.