Page 26 of The Watcher's Bride

Rose shrugs. “He texted me late last night saying he was sick and wouldn’t be in. As if I was born yesterday. Youngsters these days have no respect for their professions, calling in sick so they can go out drinking with their buddies till god knows what time. I have half a mind to give him a written warning,” she mutters, shaking her head in disapproval.

The rest of the day passes without incident and I’m grateful to be able to lose myself in my work. It’s almost like nothing happened at all last night. When I finally get a break I check my phone, I have two messages, one from Max and one from Nadya. I was half expecting a message from Mike, but it seems he’s either planning to pretend nothing happened last night and ignore me completely, or he’ll come back to work and try to win me over with a big apology. I’m hoping for the first scenario.

I read Nadya’s message first.

NADYA: Hey girl, sorry I’ve been AWOL. Was having fun with Mr. Nice Ass but he turned out to be an ASS. Come over tonight to bitch about him and men in general over a bottle of wine and a giant pizza?

Nadya’s message couldn’t have been better timed. A girl’s night with my best friend is exactly what I need. I text her back that I’ll be there after work.

She replies immediately with a series of pizza, wine, smiling faces, and dancing girl emojis that let me know she’s looking forward to tonight as much as I am.

Max’s text is simple yet holds many unspoken words:

MAX: How are you doing?

ME: I’m good. No sign of Mike—he called in sick.

MAX: Good. I’ll see you at 5.

ME: Actually, I’mgoing to my friend Nadya’s place after work. In need of a girl’s night.

I type out an apology before deleting it. I don’t owe Max an apology for spending time with my friend.

MAX:I can walk you there.

As sweet as his concern for my well-being is, I can’t keep letting Max be so involved in my life. If last night’s break-in has reminded me of anything, it’s that getting involved with me isn’t safe for him. It’s not fair to lead him on when I know I could never be fully intimate with him and that merely by being with me his life is in danger. I need some space away from him to clear my head. When he’s near me, I lose myself in the fantasy, but it’s time I come back to reality.

I can’t deny that my thoughts have also been on my stalker. I haven’t sensed him around today. Did he see me and Max yesterday? Is that why he’s staying away? I don’t know what it is about that idea, but it makes me feel bad. Almost like I was cheating on him.

Which is absolutely crazy.

And another reason why a nice guy like Max doesn’t need to get involved with a woman like me.

ME:I’ll be fine.I need to feel normal and not like I need constant protection. I’ll see you tomorrow.

My response is blunter than usual, and I feel harsh for doing so, but Max isn’t the sort of guy to be easily put off and I need him to know how serious I am.

MAX:Okay. Call me if you need anything.

I’m a little surprised by his response. Maybe he isn’t as overprotective as I thought.

Chapter 16

Nora

Hanging out with Nadya is exactly what I needed. We drink cheap wine while she tells me all about how her latest dating conquest ended in disaster and share some pizza, which she eats the lion’s share of. Thankfully, she doesn’t notice; I can’t handle another lecture about me not eating properly. It turned out her new man was married. In true Nadya fashion, she kicked him out into the street half-naked, yelling at the top of her lungs that he was lucky she didn’t tell his wife.

When we eventually stop laughing at her hilarious retelling of the story and vivid description of his shocked, embarrassed face, I finally build up the courage to tell her about the break-in at my apartment and Mike’s subsequent attack followed by Max’s overzealous rescue.

“Oh my fucking god, Nora, here I am telling you all about my shitty dating experience while you’re over here having gone through an actual trauma. Why did you let me keep rambling on? This is way more important. Are you okay?” Nadya says, her words coming out in a rush. “I’ll fucking kill that loser if he even dares to come near you again,” she adds venomously, her eyes narrowed.

To my surprise and mortification, tears spring to my eyes. Nadya might be my best friend, but I don’t cry in front of people, not even her. “I’m okay,” I gasp, though my tears say otherwise.

“Oh, hon.” Nadya’s face crumples with sympathy.

Nadya knows I’m not keen on being touched, though I don’t mind it from women so much. She pulls me into a warm embrace, and I’m grateful for it. I don’t try to stop the tears that flow onto her shoulder, wetting the soft sweatshirt she’s wearing. She smells of vanilla and cigarettes, a not wholly bad fragrance since it’s so comfortingly Nadya. I feel an overwhelming rush of love and gratitude for my best friend.

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, simply letting me cry it out. When my tears have finally subsided, I apologize.

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