be the wine speaking. He takes a breath.
“Sure, Shyla...Please, call me Taylor.”
Chapter Seven
Conflicting emotions of dread and contentment course through me. Something was different today. I don’t know what triggered it. Maybe it was the fear that I might be dead¸ or Taylor’s confession about his anxiety, but I felt like I was able to work with and have dinner with the real Taylor for the first time. Ever since I first walked into his office, I have been dealing with a shell. His ever-changing and conflicted nature may mean I will again see Mr. Holden tomorrow, but no matter what happens, I will always have this night. This night will anchor me to Taylor, not letting him drift away into the abyss of Mr. Holden.
My dread is twofold, the ever growing, dangerous fascination with this man and the reaction I will face when I get home to Rick. Things are changing all around me. I remember when I met Rick on campus years ago. He had shaggy light brown hair, amber eyes, dimples, and a tall, wiry frame. He was smart, innocent, and genuine. We were partners in our intro to Com Sci class. His mix of boyish good looks and geekiness warmed me. There was always something so gentle about his personality. He always made me feel secure and I never doubted he would be there for me if I needed him.
And now, while we are civil, and we get along just fine, we don’t see each other anymore. I don’t mean this physically. We go on about our day, two perfectly sound individuals, living alongside one another. Yet we are invisible. I could never put my finger on what was going wrong with us, because nothing was wrong, it’s just that something was no longer right. We don’t have those long sleepless nights anymore when we just talk and laugh about nothing. There are no more late night pizza runs or impromptu road trips. We just exist. I know he loves me, but something is gone. Yet, I still don’t have the courage to pull away, because I do love him, and I don’t want to hurt him, but I think I need more.
What is more? I don’t know. I never had a father, I don’t know what true love looks like between a man and a woman. Rick treats me well and he loves me. Shouldn’t that be enough? Aren’t I greedy for wanting more? What if I look for more and instead end up with nothing? Perhaps, I will always have a craving for more. Multiple times, Rick has told me that he doesn’t think I will ever be satisfied. Maybe he is right, maybe nothing can fulfill me.
I hope he is sleeping when I come home, as I have no desire to engage in a discussion about last night. Instead he is awake in the bedroom watching TV, but he doesn’t come out. He doesn’t say a word. I peek my head into the bedroom, which is dark besides the glow from the TV.
“Hey,” I say, sheepishly.
“Hey.” Only his eyes move to address at me.
“I’m sorry about last night. Like I told you in the text, I fell asleep at the office and my phone died, so I didn’t see anything until I woke up late this morning. Then I had to run to work and I didn’t have the nerve or the time to make a personal call.”
“You really had me worried. I couldn’t sleep last night.”
“I know,” I say pitifully as I crawl into bed. I know how to make it up to him.
“Listen, I am happy for you about this job. I really am, but it’s consuming all of your time.”
“It’s this trip to Russia. There is a lot of prep going into that. Plus, you’re just used to me being home all the time. You know, it used to be the other way around. I would be here all day and you would be in the office.”
“I know, I know. I just miss you.”
“Awww. I miss you too.” Do I really? “After this trip, I promise, there will be more time.”
“Can we set a night where we go out once a week until then?”
“I can’t promise, things are too unpredictable, but I’ll try.”
“Well, if Ms.Important can find time for me, I’d appreciate that.”
“Oh stop it...” I say silencing
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