Page 72 of You Shouldn't Have Come Here

Calvin hesitated for a moment and sighed. “Okay,” he finally said. “Sleep well, Grace.” He flicked off the light and closed the door, lingering on the other side of it once again. At some point, I must have fallen asleep but I never heard his footsteps walk away. I think he stood there all night.

Day Eight

36.

Calvin

After tightening the last screw, I dropped the screwdriver in the toolbox and jiggled the door handle, making sure it was securely in place. I should have installed one when I started doing room rentals, but no one else ever complained—so it slipped my mind.

“What are you doing?” Grace jolted up in bed. Her hair went in all directions and dark circles clung to the skin beneath her eyes. She clearly hadn’t slept well.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” I said, getting to my feet. “I installed that lock you asked for.”

Grace stared at me, not saying a word. Her eyes blinked several times, darting between me and the newly installed lock. I figured after yesterday she had shut me out and was just biding her time here. But I still hoped I could convince her otherwise.

“Just wanted to make sure you feel comfortable.” I took a couple steps toward her and held out a silver key. “Here,” I said, dangling it in front of her.

If this is what she needed to feel safe, I’d give it to her. That was the thing about safety, you could either have it or feel like you had it, and they were the same thing—until they weren’t. Finally, she took it, clutching the key in her hand. I’m sure it felt comforting, like a security blanket does for a young child.

“I hope this makes you feel better.”

Grace didn’t say anything. She just stared at me with those blue, blue eyes. I couldn’t tell if she didn’t know what to say or if she was scared to speak. I hoped it was the former, although fear wasn’t a permanent feeling. It eventually passed. I studied her expressionless face, from her perfect pout to her soft nose and the arch of her eyebrows, but I couldn’t get a good read on her.

“I meant what I said last night.” I took a deep breath, waiting for her to say something, anything. She could yell at me for all I cared. I just wanted to talk to her. But it was as though she wasn’t here anymore. Physically, yes. But mentally, emotionally—she was gone. Maybe I imagined it, and she was never here to begin with. How could we have gone from lovers to strangers intwenty-fourhours?

I looked down at my hands. They weren’t steady. I balled them up and relaxed them.

“Well, I’ve gotta go and run an errand, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I turned and headed toward the door, picking up my toolbox on the way out. I glanced back, hoping she’d say something or even look at me the way she looked at me out in the pasture before everything went to shit. Instead, she laid down and rolled away from me.

I closed the door and let out a heavy sigh. This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to go. Somehow it all got screwed up. It always did. Standing on the other side, I pressed my ear against it. I just wanted to be near her. It was silent. I waited a few minutes but heard nothing. Albert’s door was still closed, so I assumed he wouldn’t be awake until midday, and I’d deal with him when I got back from the grocery store.

In two days, Grace was set to leave, and if she did, I knew I would never see her again. This town had a way of keeping insiders in and outsiders out. But I couldn’t let that happen. Grace belonged to me.

37.

Grace

I carried a glass of lemonade and the last book I intended on reading out to the porch. The sun was set high in the sky, its rays scorching the dry grass. Taking a seat in the rocking chair, I placed the lemonade on the table beside me and flipped the book open to page one. After Calvin left, I laid in bed for a while thinking about how I could get through the next two days. I still had a soft spot for him but I was trying to harden that area because I knew something wasn’t right with Calvin, and maybe that’s why I was captivated by him. Broken people were drawn to broken people.

“Whatcha reading?”

Albert stood just outside the front door, carrying a beer and a crooked smile. I rolled my eyes and refocused my attention on the page.

His heavy steps grew louder as he ambled toward me. Although he was large, he was old and mostly drunk, so I figured I could, at the very least, outrun him if need be. Albert took a seat in the rocking chair beside me, slowly rocking back and forth.

“My memory ain’t the best, but I think I owe you an apology,” he said.

I simply nodded.

“I’m sorry. I’m not much of a man but my word is pretty solid. It won’t happen again, and honestly, it was an accident.” He gulped his beer. “I may have a lot of demons, but hurting women isn’t one of them.” Albert raised his eyebrow over his glass.

“Demons?” I asked.

“We all have them. Even you, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” I said, flipping a page.

“Some people are just better at hiding them,” he said. The chair creaked with each rock.

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