Page 36 of Don't Scare Me, My Love

Before him, I spent most of my time working ten to twelve hours a day and playing whatever game was hot on one of the three consoles I owned at night. I kept myself busy with the excuse of running a business and taking care of a property my family was trying to sell. I’d go on a date once in a while when I had a day off, but let’s face it. By the time I turned thirty, I’d resigned myself to spending most of my time alone. I told myself that it was okay, that the only person's love that I needed wasmine. That worked for me for years. I had found my rhythm. I would say that I was happy, maybe not fulfilled, but my life wasn’t bad.

After Nicholasscaredhis way into my heart, that perspective changed: he became a part of my life that I did not know I was missing.

It wasn’t even like we were doing anything special, just things that probably sounded boring to most people. We cooked, watched horror movies, and tried out the latest two-player games. On our days off, we would go hiking or drive to Ashbourne to see a movie.

We also fucked every night. The more often we did it, the more we both craved it. Afterward, we would lie in bed, arm in arm, and fantasize about what to do with all the rooms in the hotel without actually planning to put any of our ideas into action. We talked until we fell asleep, and when we woke up in the morning, Nicholas was clinging to me as if he was freezing, even when it was eighty degrees in our room.

He didn’t just make me feel wanted. He made me feel needed and…alive. With him, even mopping the vast hotel floors became a blast.

We worked together every day—of course, with all the shenanigans we had established in Nicholas’ first week. He constantly attempted to scare me, and the more often he tried, the better he got at it. After each scare, my heart would beat faster than the last time, not only because of the adrenaline but also because of his broad grin as he held me close afterward. These scares were his way of showing me how much I meant to him. And strangely, I couldn’t wait to see what he would come up with next.

Before we knew it, we celebrated Christmas, then New Year, then his birthday, then Valentine’s Day (which becameGhoulentine’s Day for us), then my birthday.

At the end of April, he told me he had to fly home to Seattle. His driving license was about to expire, and since he didn’t have a home address, he was still using his parents’.

I’ll never forget the grin on his face when I offered to use the hotel’s address instead.

“That would mean I live here, like,officially,” he uttered.

“Aren’t you?” I simply replied, and that was the end of that conversation.

The next day, I left him alone at the gas station for three hours, drove to Ashbourne, and got replacement keys for the hotel. By afternoon, I had them wrapped up like a present, with the rubber spider mounted inside that would jump at him when he opened it. I gave them to him when we got back home.

It was that night that he told me he loved me for the first time.

I was so euphoric at his confession that I gave him a million kisses and the fuck of the century in return, only to realize the next day at work that I hadn’t even said the words back. (I made up for it within two minutes after my realizationandall night long.)

By October, we had spent a full year together, and Nicholas was as much a part of Seastone as if he had never lived anywhere else. He knew all the regulars at the gas station by their first names, including their favorite treats and how they liked their coffee. After exploring the entire town, documenting all of it for his channel, he knew every street name and what business used to be in which empty building. He edited all the footage into a short online web series called‘Seastone Secrets,’and it quickly caught people’s interest all over town. More and more Seastonians agreed to tell their stories on camera, resulting in an influx of followers on his channel that nearly doubled his subscriber base to over six hundred people. Whenever I asked him if this might be his calling, he replied it was just a hobbythat made him happy—and that he would not change that. But thanks to the show, he soon became so well-connected that he was even asked to pose as a zombie for the announcement poster shoot for this year’s bonfire, an honor he gladly accepted.

I never dreamed it would turn out like this.

We were so well-rehearsed that sometimes we didn’t even have to talk. It was as if we were thinking the same things. When I thought about getting a pizza for dinner, he would come in with two pizza boxes. When he said he wanted to see a specific movie, I had already bought tickets for a screening. When someone asked about my eye patch, he told the exact bloody lie I was thinking about before I could.

It was bone-chillingly amazing.

I stood behind the counter,hunched over some bills I had to prepare for my tax guy. The gas station was quiet.Uncomfortably quiet.Sure, some music was playing in the background, but that didn’t distract me enough from the fact that I was alone.

It was the third time this week that I was on my own for my shift. Nicholas had gone to help Jack with one of his jobs.Again.

Don’t get me wrong.I wasn’t upset about it. I was just curious about how much help Jack would need from now on. He was self-employed and did whatever the people of Seastone paid him to do. Sometimes, like when he had to move furniture, he needed an extra set of hands. Since Nicholas was handy with anything and selfless like a good Samaritan, it only took one mention from Jack for Nicholas to offer to help whenever the need arose.

Like he did today.

Or so I thought.

I wish I could have seen my face when Jack—who was supposed to be working with my boyfriend—walked into the gas stationalone.

It was just after eight, and if I hadn’t been on my second cup of coffee, I would’ve thought I was hallucinating.

The bell rang, bringing my head up from the documents, and Jack manifested in front of me. No ‘hello,’no ‘how are you,’ and no explanation for why he was here. He just stood there, making a face like he was forced to suck on a lemon.

“Where is Nicholas?” I finally asked after watching the scene for a minute.

“I can’t tell you,” Jack replied. He peeked at me but went back to staring at his feet, like a dog who knew he shouldn’t have eaten my donut when I wasn’t looking. “He’s alive and well, if that’s what you’re wondering. So,… nothing to worry about. Well,… nothing to worry aboutin terms of his health. At least, I think so. I’m not a doctor… for humans?—”

“Jack, why can’t you tell me where he is?”

“Because I promised not to. I shouldn’t even be here.”

---