Page 43 of Deprivation

Grabbing a towel, I wrap it around me as I reach for the phone. Seeing Gabe’s number, I smile as I answer. “Hello, there.”

There’s no response.Hmm? That’s odd. I can hear noises in the background, but I can’t decipher much. All of a sudden, a woman’s voice is coming through the line.Is that Stephanie?It doesn’t sound like her, but this is a terrible connection. Maybe he’s butt dialed me. Rather than torture myself or cause another argument due to my jealous inquisitions, I decide to end the call. I look to the tub and decidethat party’s overand reach in to drain the now tepid water.

Drying off and putting on sleep clothes, I gather my belongings and head to my room. Placing the wine glass carefully on my nightstand, my mind keeps trailing back to the call. I know I’m overbearing and jealous. It isn’t rational to question someone as often as I do. My history gives me all the excuse I need, but no one will tolerate this behavior long. I have to let this go.

Gabe and I have been exclusive since the day he held me in that chapel. I’ve occasionally slipped and allowed intercourse without condoms, but only when we’d both had a lot to drink. Gabe was understanding about my desire to use them, saying I wanted backup for my birth control. I need to get a grip on this mistrust soon, or moving several hours away would torment me. Hopefully focusing on my intense curriculum, won’t leave room for suspicions about Gabe.

I take another sip of my wine and climb into bed with my laptop. Unable to keep from glancing at my phone, I open my email distracted by a feeling of dread.

* * *

“Hey, Mace, I got your note. I’m so happy for you,” I greet the next morning, finding her at our usual rendezvous in front of the coffee pot. “I really appreciate you not leaving me in a lurch. I have my interview for PA school in a few weeks. I guess I’ll know then whether I need a new roommate here or not.”

“Oh, I understand. It’s the least I could do since I technically owe you for half of the rent until December, anyway,” she replies over her steaming mug. “I’ll be praying for you to get in. I know how hard you’ve worked for this.”

“Thank-” The phone dancing on the counter interrupts my conversation.

“Hey, Nate. What’s up?”

“Hey, Kat. Are you doing anything? I got off of a twenty-four-hour shift and haven’t been able to get to sleep. Want to grab some breakfast?”

“Sure. The Belleview Café in an hour sound okay?”

“Perfect. See you there.”

I hug Macey and tell her to let me know if there’s anything pertaining to the move she needs help with then head to my room. I grab some jeans and a sweater. The Belleview Café is a small local restaurant with good food for those on a budget, nothing fancy.

* * *

I enter the small, dark café and notice Nate seated in the back right corner in a booth. The little restaurant has very few windows, and the walls are a rich, darkly stained oak which give the place a cave like feel. But the breakfast is legendary, so we call it home. Nate stands as I approach, a cup of coffee and a large orange juice already placed in front of him.

“Hey, Kat. It’s been too long,” he says, kissing my cheek.

“I know. I’m getting to the end of the application process, and my time has been consumed with finishing up my last prerequisites and tracking down all of the transcripts the medical school is requesting.”

“I know. But if you’d dump Gabe, think how much more time you’d have for me.” He winks. Nate has made no bones about the fact he doesn’t care for Gabe, but tries not to bring it up often enough for it to become a sore subject.

“Well, I’m not going to be too hasty. I honestly don’t see this lasting if I move out of town, but you never know.”

Abruptly, the air feels different in the tiny restaurant, as loud, raucous laughter rocks through the front doors. Turning my head just as the waitress approaches our table, I notice one of the girls in the group looks familiar.Jen, is it?

She’s about eight years older than I am with a mass of red, unruly curls and lots of freckles. She’s petite but not small like Olivia. If this is the woman I suspect, she’s married with two children but hangs out with Stephanie and her divorcee crowd. Before I can turn back to the waitress, who’s patiently waiting for my beverage order, I make eye contact with the loud redhead. Her face abruptly turns crimson, and she looks away, covering her mouth in what appears to be an attempt to prevent laughing out loud. I watch as she leans forward to the rest of her crew like she’s the quarterback about to dispense a coveted play.

“I’m sorry. I’ll just have a coffee.”

“I’ll be back and will take your order shortly,” the kind woman states.

Loud merriment again ensues, and I turn back to the crowd, as does most everyone in the small establishment, to find all of the women are now staring back at me.

Chapter Eighteen

Present Day

Kat

What? My eyes fly open with a start, peering around the room as if someone is watching. How could he know? Looking back down at the phone screen, I reread,

Nick:Do you need me?

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