Sophie was feeling uncharacteristically frightened. She was trying to decide which way she should attack him, but he was as strong as Roger. She feared that strength. She felt herself shutting down, but she knew she had to stay tight. It was near impossible, and the panic was setting in.
Henry would save her. He always did.
***
We continued toward the backroom. We stopped at the door and peeked in. There were aisles and aisles of shoes. Claire would have been in heaven. I thought about bringing her there when all this was over.
The shelving units went from floor to ceiling. We couldn’t see past the first aisle so I pulled a flashlight out of my pack. “Here,” I whispered to Henry. He shined it down the aisle.
“Clear. Cover me,” he said as he stepped in. It was so quiet. No moaning or growling. I felt relief sweep over me. In silence, we crept up and down the ten aisles, finally clearing the store.
We headed back out the front door. Henry stopped short and I ran right into his back.
“Sophie?” I looked around and Sophie was nowhere in sight. “Sophie?!” Henry called out louder. He grabbed the walkie talkie off his belt. “SJ, location?” Static. “SJ, do you read me? Location!” I could hear the worry in his voice, and panic was ripping through him. “Sophie!” he yelled out. Still nothing.
I began to worry, as well. I wasn’t her biggest fan, but after we chatted while cleaning up the mess Claire made in Henry’s bathroom, we bonded a little. I could see Henry still cared for her. After all, they had bonded in more ways than one back in the program.
“Do you think she went back to the apartment for something?” It was a stupid question, but I felt it needed to be asked.
“Why the fuck would she go back there?” he snapped at me.
“I don’t know, Henry. Maybe she forgot something.” In my peripheral vision, I saw something staggering off to my right. “Henry, three o’clock.” He turned.
“Got it.” He shot and missed. He growled. Missed? I thought. I hadn’t seen him miss yet. I think he was a little shaken up by Sophie’s disappearing act. He dropped the undead on his second shot.
“We’ll find her. Let’s just head to our original destinations. She may have gone ahead into the next store.” Henry nodded, and we moved toward the café. My breath caught in my throat.
Oh, that café brought back some fond memories, but they would be forever ruined. Hopefully, we don’t die going back for another visit.
We frequently went on dates there. It’s where Henry proposed. They had the best cake, and they sold it by the slice. I think I tried every type of cake that they served, but the chocolate ones were my favorite. The coffee was pretty tasty, as well.
Henry took me there so much that we were on a first name basis with the owners. The cake slices were the perfect size for two people. Although, I do admit I could polish off a whole one myself on a bad day. I proved that after a dress-fitting with my mother.
-September 2014-
The afternoon after the dress-fitting with my mother, Henry sat me down and went to the counter. He ordered two coffees and a slice of chocolate cake covered in ganache with a raspberry crème filling. It was so indulgent, I ate every last crumb of it without an ounce of shame. When I put the last forkful in my mouth, I worried that Henry was going to judge me and my binge. I remember apologizing, and he just had a good chuckle. He said he knew never to get in the way of a downtrodden woman and her piece of chocolate cake. Such a smart man.
We hung out at the table for what seemed like hours. He finally got me laughing and chatting, instead of grumbling about my mother’s demands and insults.
That day was when I knew I was making the right decision marrying Henry. He was mesmerizing, and I could listen to him ramble on for hours about nothing. He always knew what to say or do to make me feel better. And his eyes, his brilliant eyes, had some sort of power over me.
-October 2013-
It was the one year anniversary of my flat tire incident, when Henry insisted on taking me to the café while I waited on a tow truck. We always made fun of all the public cheesy proposals, but what he did fit the bill. It made me laugh, and won me over. It was so cheesy, but so sweet.
I honestly didn’t suspect that he was going to propose. We chatted about it a few times, but never had any heavy conversations about getting married.
“Sit tight, and I’ll be right back,” he said. I watched him walk up to the counter, pick out a piece of chocolate cake and order some coffees. I watched my man stand there, while admiring his amazing ass. He was waiting patiently, and he looked to be zoning out. He was jamming his hand through his hair, messing with the zipper on his coat, and rocking back and forth on his heels. It was obvious something was on his mind. He brought over our slice of cake and coffees, and sat down.