///
So I give him my best, casual smile and say, "Thanks, but Taylor is going to come and stay."
That's a valid enough explanation.
He nods, giving me a smile, seemingly unfazed. "Well, please call if you need anything. Honestly, I'm worried about you."
He's a good man. I walk over, reach out, and squeeze his arm. "Thank you, but I'll be fine."
He sighs and looks at his watch. "Okay then. I'd love to stay, but I have to get going. You'd never believe I designed a whole package for a client, only for her to change her mind on the colors at the last minute."
"Oh, that's awful! You'll have to show me some of your work sometime. I'd love to see it."
In fact, I don't even know where he lives.
Probably a good thing at this stage.
He nods, flashing me a grin. "Absolutely. I've got to run. Stay safe, lock that door, and just be careful of that cop. He makes me uneasy."
I blink.
Ace makes him uneasy? That's strange.
Ace is a lot of things, but he doesn't seem like a bad person.
It's interesting he gives Jacob a bad vibe. I make note of that, too.
"I will. Thank you, Jacob."
He stands and walks over, brushing his lips across my temple. "I'll call you later."
He leaves my apartment and I lock the door behind him.
Then I check it again, just to be sure.
I'm not crazy … right?
TWELVE
Stretching, I let my eyes flutter open. Sunlight is pouring through my bedroom window, past the curtains, shining across my bed. It's warm enough to have woken me from my sleep. I must have slept in longer than I thought, because I'm usually up before the sun. Groaning, I roll my stiff body from the bed and throw my feet onto the ground, standing up. I adjust my cotton shorts and tank, moving them from the off position they crept into as I was sleeping.
Coffee.
Stat.
As I walk out into the hall and down into the kitchen, my eyes flick to the door-the locks are all in place. I exhale and move towards my coffeepot, but stop dead when I see a cup on the counter. My heart starts racing immediately, and for a moment, I just stare at it. This can't even be passed off as maybe Jacob having stopped in and left me a coffee, or Taylor, or even Ace.
Because the cup the coffee is in is the one Raymond gave me for our first wedding anniversary. It's bright pink and has big, bold writing that says YUMMY FUTURE MOMMY. We had started trying for a baby after we were married, and so he purchased it for me so I would smile every morning. It has been packed away for years. In fact, I had nearly forgotten about it.
With trembling knees, I move towards the counter and stare down at the cup, reaching out and grazing my fingers over it. It's still hot! My eyes move to the left, where a note is neatly folded beside it. No. No. No. With blurred vision and shaking fingers, I reach down and pick up the note. I know, even before I unfold it, what it'll say. It was the same thing every single morning. I kept a few of the notes, because I loved them so much.
My darling Hartley,
A coffee to wake you, two kisses to keep you thinking of me, and three hours until I hear your sweet voice.
Have a great day, my sweet.
R xx
I can't keep it in-a sob rises up and releases loudly from my throat. I tremble and clutch the side of the counter, scrunching the note in my hand. My sob is one of fear and sadness. I'm not crazy. I know that now. There is simply no way I would have done this. Which means someone is doing this to me. Someone is trying to get to me, using the one thing I hold dearest-my husband.
My eyes flicker around the house, and I'm suddenly filling with panic.
What if someone is in here now?
I don't think, I just turn and run to the door, tears streaming down my face as I fumble with the locks, getting them open before swinging the door open so hard it slams against the doorstop. Then I go charging out and down the hall. I reach Ace's door, and I pound. I don't know what the time is. I don't care. I simply pray he's home. I'm terrified. I can feel it right down to my bones, clutching my stomach like an iron fist.
The door swings open and Ace stands in the space, wearing a suit, his hair still wet from a shower. His eyes drop to me, then to the note in my hand, and he asks in a calm, but edgy, voice, "Hartley, what's wrong?"
"Someone is m-m-m-messing with me, Ace."
I can't even speak.
"Come here."
He takes my shoulder and pulls me into his apartment, shutting the door behind him. He guides my body towards a kitchen stool, pushing me slightly so I sit down on it. When my bottom is firmly in place, he lowers his body until we're eye level. "Look at me."