Page 47 of Heartless
I woke up disoriented.After a quick scan of the unfamiliar room, I checked the digital clock on the nightstand.It was eleven past eight.No wonder I was hungry.Guided by the small led lights along the base of the wall, I headed toward the kitchen arched entrance.Like most rooms in the house, it had a wall-to-wall window.I opened the fridge, a mammoth-sized silver-doored appliance.Jesus, there was enough food in there to last through a zombie apocalypse.
The kitchen island was a large oval slab made of grey stone in the middle of the airy room.The six chrome stools contrasted nicely with a chess board-patterned black and white tiles.There was a rectangle dining table seating eight by the bay window, leading to another terrace.Beside the kitchen, the huge pantry was niched into the wall, and as big as the bedroom that had been assigned to me.The cupboards’ doors were painted in a dark grey, and the lighting over the island was modern.
Even though the space was intimidatingly wide, it felt cozy.
I slid the dish in the oven.On the wide counter beside the sink, I spotted two large trays with handles stacked on top of each other.After opening all the cupboards, I roll on my toes to retrieve a plate—the kitchen had been made for tall people.The glasses were within my reach.
While the aroma of the Shepherd’s Pie wafted through the kitchen, I ambled to the window and lost myself in the peaceful view.
“Everything all right?”
Jerking violently, I spun toward Jake and gawked at him while clutching my chest.His jaw was clenched, and he was scowling.
My eyes.He hated my eyes.While my heart hurtled against my ribs, I lowered them to the top of his chest.
“I asked you a question.Are you all right?”
He’d ...shattered my heart in so many pieces, I’d never be the same again, and he was asking if I was ‘all right?’
When his body moved toward me, I stepped back.“I’m fine, thank you.I’m just waiting for the Shepherd’s Pie to warm up.Camila said to leave it in the oven for twenty-five minutes.”
Without another word, he left the kitchen.I didn’t see him again for the next two days.
****
End of day four.Thenight was slowly trickling into day five.Earlier today, I’d tried to write.After retrieving a brand-new notebook, I’d grabbed my favorite pen and sat in the library.I liked jolting my ideas by hand, and I’d read somewhere that the kinesthetic exercise of writing activated the same neurons paths that crawling did to a baby.Or something like that.But as soon as I’d settled, my mind had gone blank.Empty.To wake it up, I’d written ‘Nigel’.Nothing had come out.
To nudge my creative juices, I’d played what one of my writing courses had called the dark mirror game.Pick two names.For every character, write an adjective and pair it with the response of the second character.
I’d written ‘Jake’, and on the next line, I’d traced my name.
On the Jake line, I’d scribbled ‘cruel’.I’d matched it with ‘gullible’ on mine.
Manipulative.Idiot.
Callous.Stupid.
Handsome.Plain-ish.
Disgusted...
My pen had hovered inches above the page.I’d folded the notepad closed and picked up a book.
Now, hours later, I couldn’t sleep.The anxiety-ridden nightmares had stopped, and my easy relationship with Camila was veering toward something akin to a friendship of sorts.The rare times I’d crossed paths with Jake, he’d greeted me with a ‘Sienna’ to which I’d responded in kind to his chest.
The quietness here was profound, but my mind hadn’t accustomed to this tranquility.
With my shoulder against the wall adjacent to the window of my bedroom, I gazed at the darkened woods under the moonlight and let the majesty of Mother Nature soothe me.
A loud knock blasted in.I jumped and whirled toward the door.I held my breath while my heart crashed against my chest.Maybe the noise had come from outside.At the second knock, and before I could order my feet to move, the door opened slowly.
I lunged to switch on my bedside lamp and gasped as Jake walked in.
In my alarm, I forgot how repelled he was with my eyes, and stared at him.He was dressed all in black.Long-sleeved t-shirt, jeans, and boots.
He was also scowling.
I choked on air.My heartbeat, already fast, sped to full throttle.“Did Nigel—?”
