I scan the yard again and again, hoping that I see something and praying that I don’t all at the same time. The wind whips through the trees lining the back fence, and I can see my breath as I take a step outside, my entire body on edge and poised to attack. Finally, I look to the side of the house and let out a sigh as I realize the crash that I heard was one of my lawn chairs being blown into the side of the house.
“Take a chill pill, Ali,” I mutter to myself, feeling stupid for overreacting as I turn and march back into the house. Even though I know it was nothing, I can’t help but lock the door and then double check to make sure it’s really locked before going back to the island and sitting on the barstool. I slide the knife onto the counter and pick up my phone.
“Sorry, Mom.”
“Good Lord, Alison Marie. What the hell is going on?”
I sigh and look back at the doors. “It’s really windy tonight, and one of the lawn chairs hit the side of the house. Scared the hell out of me.”
“Why are you so jumpy, Honey?” she asks, and I turn away from the doors, unable to brush off the feeling of being watched. I decide not to tell her about the break-in. She’s so far away, and I don’t want to worry her unless it’s something serious.
“It’s probably just my new celebrity status that has me so on edge,” I joke, and she laughs.
“Oh, yeah? All from going viral, huh?”
I mentally sigh with relief as she goes off asking questions about my article going viral, and I feel better as I tell her all about how my life has changed in the past few weeks.
* * * *
Subtly, I pull the curtains back and peek over into Logan’s yard. He climbs off his bike and glances over at my house. I freeze, thinking maybe he saw me but then he turns and goes into his house without another look back at me. Sighing, I let them fall back into place and lean back against the wall, wondering what the hell is going on. Is it really too much to ask that he just give me an explanation? Even if he doesn’t want to be with me, I deserve that. My phone buzzes, and I yank it out of my back pocket.
Izzy:
Still on for dinner?
Me:
Yep. Meet you guys there.
Carly:
I’ll be there.
I shove my phone back in my pocket and peek out the window again. After checking the time, I push off the wall and try to decide what to do. I need to shower and get ready for dinner but I also want to march over to Logan’s house and pound on the fucking door until he answers. Thinking back to the night we spent together, I get the kick in the ass I need to throw my shoes on and march out onto my porch, slamming my front door behind me.
I hate feeling like the fool. It’s the way Adam made me feel when he cheated on me, and it’s the way I feel now that Logan has seemingly dropped out of my life. God, how could I be such an idiot? He has trouble written all over him but I ignored that, dismissed my better judgment because the connection we have is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. But that doesn’t matter anymore. I promised myself that I’d never let a man put me in a position to hurt me again, and I shouldn’t have abandoned that at the first captivating set of eyes and rock hard abs.
Marching up the stairs to his porch, I suck in a breath and pause for just a moment before I start banging on the door. I can hear him moving around on the other side of the door, and his boots sound against the floor as he approaches the door. Silence descends over me for a moment, and then the footsteps start moving away from the door. Is he seriously not going to answer? I pound my fist against the door again, getting angrier and angrier the longer I wait out here.
“Logan!” I yell, not caring one bit that the whole damn neighborhood can hear me. “Open the door.”
Silence.
I pound again, some of my fight draining out of me as I realize that he’s really not going to answer the door. Well, I guess this tells me everything that I need to know, doesn’t it?
I knock one more time, my voice breaking as I say, “Logan. Please.”
Still nothing and I back away from the door with tears in my eyes. This is so stupid. I just met this man. I shouldn’t be crying over the loss of him but as I turn and start walking back to my house, I do cry. Peeking over my shoulder, I take one last look at the house but I’m not seeing the house anymore - I’m seeing the day we met. I’m seeing future Friday nights cuddled up on the couch as we watch movies and birthday dinners that I spent all day making. I’m seeing his lazy smile as he rolls over in the morning and pulls me into his arms. I’m seeing all the possibilities that I imagined for us that will never happen.
I’m such a stupid girl, and I got so ahead of myself but it just felt right with him. I put so much faith in that feeling – that contentment that seemed to settle into my soul when I met him. As I walk back into my house, I feel absolutely deflated but I’ve got to put on a brave face and go out to dinner with the girls.
I drag myself to the bathroom, turning on the water before undressing and tossing my clothes in a pile on the floor. Steam fills the room, and I step under the hot water, the tears falling already. It’s safe here. I can cry and no one will ever know as the water washes my pain away. I swipe angrily at my eyes, hating that I let him get to me like this. And the short amount of time that he was able to get to me makes it even worse. It’s a vicious cycle of pain and anger as I scrub my body clean, wishing I could rinse him from my heart and mind so easily.
When I’m done, I step out and secure the towel around my body as I throw another one on my head and go into my bedroom. I plop down on the edge of the bed and sigh. I’m over this. He obviously didn’t even care enough to open the damn door and talk to me so I’m done crying over him. I’ll go back to the way it was before. I’ll focus on my work, and I’ll be fine. And maybe one day, I’ll find someone who won’t cast me aside so easily. A man who will give anything to be with me and will be worthy of all I have to offer him. I’m constantly giving readers this same advice so why aren’t I taking it myself?
With new resolve, I stand and start getting ready for dinner, doing my hair and make-up before grabbing a dress from my closet. Once I’m dressed, I go to my dresser and look through my necklaces, trying to find the one my grandmother gave me. I don’t find it on my first pass of my jewelry so I look again, growing panicked when I can’t find it. My hand goes to my throat, and I check to make sure I’m not wearing it as I run into the bathroom and check there. When I don’t find it in the bathroom, I run back out to my bedroom, ready to pull the dresser out but my phone buzzes on the nightstand, stopping me. Sighing, I grab it.
Izzy:
Leaving now.
Carly:
OMW
Sighing again, I look over at the dresser and make a point to search for the necklace when I get home tonight. But right now, I’ve got to get to my girls. I grab my purse and force a smile to my face as I push down anything that will keep me from having a good time with my friends.
* * * *