Page 9 of Don't Speak

CHAPTER EIGHT

I wake with another jolt, sweat pouring down my chest. My sheets are drenched, and my eyes are wet as though I was crying in my sleep.

Not again . Lying there for a minute, my mind races through the events of that night.

That night was the first. The first of many more moments where I’d lose a piece of my soul.

I lost track of how many times I’d cry myself to sleep, only to wake up and have to pretend like nothing happened.

I grew comfortable with awkwardness when I should have been screaming about what he was doing at the top of my lungs every chance I got. Silence became my best friend.

Getting out of bed, I slip on my slippers and pad to the kitchen.

Grabbing his bag of food, I pour some into his bowl and place the bag back into the pantry.

My turn. Walking over to the coffee machine, I place a K-cup into the Keurig and start brewing.

I don’t have to be at work until later this afternoon since I am only working the night shift.

Once my coffee is done, I pour in my salted caramel creamer and top it with salted caramel cold foam.

Clearly, it’s my favorite flavor. Sitting on my couch, I am about to open my book again when there is a sudden knock on the door.

I place my cup of coffee on the table and walk over to the door.

When I open it, there is no one there. Weird .

I poke my head out, looking left and right, but no one is in sight.

I am about to close the door when something red catches my eye.

There, sitting on the porch mat, is a red rose.

I freeze, looking back up and searching for someone nearby.

Suddenly, I can’t shake that feeling of being watched again.

Snatching the rose from the mat, I spin and slam the door closed, clicking every lock in place, my heart slamming in my chest.

I walk back to my seat on the couch, placing the rose on the table next to my coffee and staring at it.

Who would have dropped this off? It couldn’t be him , could it?

I feel my neck begin to flush, panic coursing in my blood.

No, that isn’t possible. I’ve been so careful.

Suddenly, my breathing increases, my vision begins to tunnel, and my hands begin to shake.

Oh no. Not now. I haven’t had a panic attack in a few months now. I thought I was doing so good.

Recognizing the signs, I quickly make my way to the bathroom and turn on the shower.

I set it to the coldest temperature and step in.

The cold water shocks my system back into place, allowing me to regulate my breathing once more.

In and out, in and out. The water cascades around me, caressing my skin like the iciest hug imaginable.

It’s not my favorite thing, but it works.

I thought I’d said goodbye to my old foe, but alas, good things never last.

Once I’ve come back down to baseline, I step out of the shower.

Changing out of my now-wet pajamas, I put a fresh set on and head back to the couch.

I don’t even know what I should do about this.

Having spaced out while staring at the rose, I’m brought back to reality when my phone suddenly buzzes on the table.

I check it and see that it is a message from Ben.

Ben: Hey, Nikki. I’m sorry to do this to you, but I need you to come in for the lunch shift.

Eric quit. Said he had a family emergency out of town and needed to be with family for a while.

Thankfully, I already hired someone this morning to fill the position we needed before his departure, but I’ll need you to come in and train him.

I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t NEED you.

Nikki: No problem, Ben. I’ll be there.

Ben: Thanks, Nikki. I owe you.

Family emergency, huh? Yeah right. He’s probably scared shitless to show his face after what happened.

Whatever. Good fucking riddance. At least this way, I don’t have to work with him again.

Placing my phone back on the table, I pick the rose up, carrying it over to the kitchen and tossing it into the trash.

Maybe I should invest in security cameras.

I still have a few hours left until I need to be at work, so I relax back on the couch and let my mind focus on my current read. Sometimes, disconnecting from reality is exactly what I need.