Page 44 of Debt of My Soul

Sliding the scissors through the tape on top of the box, a hum of peacefulness slithers through me. Maybe I need this. This will be healing.

Relaxing, I pull back each brown flap until I’m peering into the top of the box.

A letter sits on top of my black camera bag, and I roll up the sleeve of my cardigan to fiddle with the rubber bands. They instantly ease my anxiety. A tear takes off down my face and I snap a band, closing my eyes at each sting. Allowing the pain to ground me, to pull me deeper, shifting my worry.

The envelope has his handwriting on it. My name is in all capital letters because that’s how he writes. I swallow the lump in my throat while removing the letter.

I can’t do this.

The pads of my fingers skim the soft paper and I turn it over in my hand, flipping it several times while I mull over what he could have to say.

A knock sounds at the door, and I shove the letter back in the box, then move the whole thing to my bedroom. The front door opens as I shut my bedroom door, and Adam strolls in past the hall.

“Hey!” I say, tucking my hands into the back pockets of my jeans as I come back down the hall.

He doesn’t answer me, though. Instead, he sulks over to the couch and plops down, letting out a deep sigh.

That’s new. Usually, Adam is impossibly upbeat.

“You all right?” I ask, moving to kneel in front of him. His hair is disheveled, and his head hangs low. When he lifts his face to look at me, I gasp.

A large black and blue shiner bruises his left eye—the lid swollen. Dark circles camp underneath his eyes, the paleness of his skin creating an even starker contrast between the coloring.

“Adam, what happened?” I grip his knees and peer up at him. His eyes are dull and his face gaunt.

“Nothing. Had a run-in with a few of Darrin’s men.” Defeat shines in his eyes.

“Did you call the police?” I ask.

“No.”

“Why not? Gosh, they can’t get away with randomly punching you in the face.” I pull at his arm. “Let’s go right now. I’ll drive.”

“Leave it alone, Fleur,” he snaps, and I narrow my eyes at him.

I don’t want to leave it alone. This is getting out of control. I hesitate before standing and go to the freezer for a bag of peas. There’s more going on here. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I understand that.

I slowly turn back to the living room, watching Adam type out a message on his phone. He doesn’t want me to know and I’m not sure why. But I can relate to the struggle. It’s the same way I don’t want to tell him the man I loved found me replaceable. It’s embarrassing and stirs the insecurity around in my stomach.

Tossing the peas in the air twice, I sit next to Adam, curling into him on the couch, and I press the frozen veggies to his eye. He wraps his hand around mine, holding it as I hold the peas to his head.

“Thank you, Fleur.” He gazes at me, and I squirm under his study. I offer him a smile but jolt up.

“Coffee?”

“Sure,” he says, leaning back against the couch and closing his eyes.

I piddle around with the coffee maker for longer than I need to while watching him out of the corner of my eye. I can’t seem to shake the roiling sensation fluttering through my belly.

After fixing both cups of coffee, I snuggle on the couch and toss the remote into his lap. He scrolls through the app and picks out some action movie, and I settle in taking sips every few minutes or so.

We’re about halfway through the movie when Adam pulls me farther into him, rubbing my thigh. Tingles spread with each of his smooth touches, and I try to convince myself I’m ready for this. He’s been understanding about my reluctance—even though he doesn’t know why. I want someone to want me. Need to feel something other than humiliation. But am I ready to edge past our status of friends?

Don’t balk at this.

I nuzzle into his side, my head finding the crook of his arm. I smile up at him, and that’s when he moves. Tilting my chin up further, he leans down and presses his lips to mine. They are soft and subtle. A rush of blood to my head makes me dizzy as his kiss deepens. His tongue presses into my mouth and he moans. I meet his kiss, opening my mouth to him, searching. I want those fireworks, something to hint at the fact I’m moving on and it’s worth it.

Adam positions himself so he leans over me, and stroking hands roam up my side.

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