Page 6 of Stockholm (Angel of Mercy #1)

The Kept

T wo days pass and it’s feeling a little like I’m coming apart at the seams.

Maybe that’s a touch dramatic; I’m just not usually the type of woman to lose track and yet I’m staring at the bowl on the counter that I remember filling with frozen chicken and putting in the refrigerator to thaw, but it’s empty.

If it was just the one incident I would brush it off, but it’s also the keys I’d washed in the laundry earlier. The window I’d forgotten to lock the night before. I’m so distracted lately that the routine I keep to help me stay grounded is something I’m finding more and more difficult to depend on.

Something’s missing, or different?

It feels like it’s me.

A single knock at the front door echoes out through the empty living room before it’s opened, and Bo welcomes himself inside.

“Hello!” he calls, singing the word as he carries two boxes of pizza in and kicks the door shut behind him.

“Hey, I’m in the kitchen,” I call, rubbing my eyes against a sudden wave of exhaustion.

A truly dazzling smile greets me and he enters the room like he’s dragging his own personal sunshine around behind him. No matter where he is, every space feels warm when Bo is in it, his carefree vibe pulling me out of the anxious pit I’d been floundering in .

He sets the boxes on the counter and pulls me in for a side hug, kissing the top of my head. “Hey, Em. Uh, what are you doing?” he asks, noticing my staring contest with the bowl in front of me.

“I guess I forgot to get chicken out, so dinner’s a mess.”

“Lucky you, I brought some. You need to relax more, kid, you look like someone died.” He reaches for plates and hands me one, which I take with a grin.

“Kid? I’m two years older than you.”

“But I’m taller which makes us even.”

I scoff, opening the box and we fill our plates.

“Skip the table tonight, I want to watch trash TV with you.” He circles his hand around the back of my neck and steers me to the living room and pushes me down onto the couch. I giggle as he picks up the remote and flips through Netflix.

“This is kind of nice,” I admit, taking a bite of the greasy pizza.

“You do too much here, take a few days off to just chill. This is normal , I promise,” Bo says, throwing himself down on the couch. “You could even put on sweatpants and sleep right here, you know. That’s what I’ll be doing.”

Bo fills me in on the lore of the show while we finish eating, with lots of dramatic reenactments that have me shaking with laughter. When it cuts to a new season we head upstairs to change.

“Are these even comfy?” he asks, touching the hangers of nightgowns in my walk-in closet.

“Of course they are,” I say defensively, grabbing a yellow one off the rack. Bo intervenes, reaching over my head to snatch it away and hang it back up.

“I choose this,” he declares, pulling one of Eric’s old college shirts from its hanger and handing it to me. “There, casual. We are doing casual tonight.”

Seemingly having no choice, I change into the shirt and feel ridiculous when I emerge from the closet to his thumbs up of approval.

I flip my hair at him with narrowed eyes and head for the stairs.

“I don’t know why you’re acting like I don’t know how to be casual, Bo.

My nightgown wasn’t going to mess anything up. ”

Jumping up from the bed, he follows right behind me back to the family room. “I’m forcing you to relax, Em. I know you and Eric have your own little romantic bubble here, but when he’s gone you don’t have to do all the extra stuff.”

Crashing back on the couch, I throw my hair up in a messy bun. “There, am I doing it right?”

He eyes the change and pops an eyebrow. “You just got like ten times hotter.”

I throw a pillow at him. “I can’t tell if I feel insulted or complimented.”

“Definitely a compliment,” Bo says, looking at me fondly. “You’re just so put together all the time, all I’m saying is you can take a break from that every once in a while. You’re allowed to chill.”

“Speaking of chill,” I say, turning the attention away from me. “Have you Netflixed and Chilled your new cosplayer yet?”

He rolls his lower lip under his teeth. “Not yet, but soon.” He closes his eyes and groans, biting his lip.

“He’s a tease , Em. He’s absolutely killing me because he has the filthiest mouth I’ve ever heard when we’re on the phone, but he’s making me wait til our first meet up to show me his full face.

Right now, all I’ve seen is a half mask, so I could see his mouth.

And his piercings.” He runs his hands down his face.

“So fucking hot. He just keeps sending me different pictures of his cosplays. Which are all fire, by the way.”

“Does that make you nervous at all? Meeting up with a stranger?”

“Not really. We’ll meet in a public place first. I’ll take him to the bar, and you’ll be with me so I won’t even be alone.”

“I never agreed to that,” I argue pointlessly as a giant yawn takes over, and he peers at me.

“Yeah, but I really want you to come. Please, for me?” The puppy eyes are killer, and he knows I can never resist.

“Ugh, I can’t believe you want me to come and watch you two flirt with each other while I third wheel.”

He ignores me, staring at the ceiling. “Fuck, he’s talked up such a good game, I can’t wait to take him home. ”

He’s fully got me intrigued. “I don’t understand how you’re so comfortable with people so quickly, just to let them know… you know …all the things you want. That you’re into.”

Bo smirks, side-eyeing me. “I just don’t want to waste time with someone I’m not compatible with.” He chews on his lip for a moment. “I mean, how did you and Eric get comfortable with each other? You just talked about it, right?”

I hesitate. “Not really. We’ve never actually talked about something like that. He’s very…stilted about that kind of thing.”

His brow furrows. “Really? That’s not how I would ever have guessed him being.”

“Yeah, he’s not really ever suggested trying something new with me.” I blush when Bo gives me his undivided attention. “Which is fine, I’m okay with things how they are. Eric is just more traditional, I guess.”

“You’d be surprised,” Bo mutters and I tilt my head.

His eyes soften and he studies me. “I just mean if you wanted, you could talk to him. I’ve known Eric for a long time, Em.

One thing I can say about him is that he would give you anything you wanted, and he’s not been like that with anyone else before. ”

My returning smile feels hollow for some reason, but I take the hand he offers and let him soothe me with his thumb rubbing softly over mine. He pulls my pillow over to where he sits at the corner of the sectional, and I fall asleep to the sound of his soft breathing.

Gasping, I lurch forward, scanning the living room frantically as I try to catch my breath. The phantom feelings of large hands gripping my thighs fade as I squeeze my eyes shut.

Hands that did not belong to Eric .

What is wrong with me? This is the third dream I’ve had of the mysterious customer in as many days. In each, I’m lost in a hungry haze, his hands taking in every inch of me in ways that my husband just…doesn’t.

Stop . The guilt eats me alive, just like it has every other morning. Eric loves me. He’s gone on a trip to try and make our lives better, and I’m here fawning over this stranger in his absence.

Still, as unwelcome as these very inappropriate dreams might be, I’m forced to acknowledge it’s a nice change from the ones I usually have.

Nightmares, actually. For as long as I can remember I’ve had the same recurring night terror of roaming through a front-opening dollhouse, when large hands start pushing both sides shut.

Each time, right before I wake up, the sound of the latch on the outside of the dollhouse clinks as I’m locked inside. Stuck in the dark. Trapped.

Bizarre, I know.

Maybe it’s stress? Eric’s away, which means change to our routine, our business. John Bundy’s thrown me off, his sinister energy making me fearful of what impact he could have on my husband.

Another month of trying—and failing—to become pregnant when both me and Eric want it so badly…

It makes sense, and I feel the guilt lighten slightly to realize these dreams might have a cause other than me just being a terrible person.

My mind is just trying to distract itself with something that feels good.

I just need to double down, refocus, and center myself with the things that are important.

Eric, home, being the perfect wife he sees me as. His angel .

Maybe I should call him and let him know how bothered I was with the latest test. He had told me to call if I needed anything, and there was no denying this was throwing me off.

Checking the clock, I see that I can still catch him before meetings start. Softly peeling back the blanket to not disturb Bo, I whisper-call for Molly and head upstairs to our bedroom to video call Eric.

He answers almost immediately, and I see him still in his hotel bed, drinking a cup of coffee. “Hey, honey! What’s up? ”

I smile back at him, missing his bright energy in the morning here with me. “Hey, just missing you. Everything’s great.”

His eyes narrow playfully. “I feel like that’s not true. What’s wrong?”

The lie that everything is almost fine almost falls from my lips, but I pause. I can’t keep this to myself. I need to discuss this with him so he knows where I’m at mentally. I can trust Eric, he always takes care of my feelings.

“I…I have some good news and bad news. Everything’s fine—” I rush to say when his face tightens with anxiety. “Well, I’m pretty sure that we are not getting our positive test this month. There’s still a chance but I just don’t feel like it’s going to happen.”

Tears sting at my eyes as I tell him. He looks startled, like this isn’t what he was expecting me to say.

After a beat, he runs his hand through his hair. “I’m so sorry, honey. I know this is hard on you and isn’t the outcome you wanted. Try not to be so hard on yourself, yeah? We can try again next month, okay?”

I bite my lip, something in his response making me hesitate to tell him the plans I’ve made.

“That’s actually why I’m bringing this up.

The good news, if we can try to look at it like that, is that after a year of trying we can make an appointment with the doctor.

They can help us figure out why it’s not working and what we should do next. ”

His silence is… sharp .

The quiet makes me nervous and I start rambling to try and fill it.

“I just want this in the worst way, you know? And every month it’s like I’m gutted all over again when I see that it’s not happening.

No matter how much I bargain with—you know, whoever is out there listening.

And it just makes sense, don’t you think?

We need to at least look and see what we can do to help things along —”

He puts a hand up to calm me. “Woah, woah. Relax, honey. Try to calm yourself down. This isn’t something I want you getting yourself all worked up about, okay? You know you get sensitive to stress. ”

I blink at him, confused. This isn’t just stress , this is something truly huge in the landscape of my life. This is what I’ve been working toward for almost an entire year. All the apps, cycle tracking, ovulation tests.

Dozens and dozens of negative tests.

“I just think going to a doctor would be a good next step, considering what I’ve read on the internet. I’ve done a lot of research and it says if we haven’t conceived by now that would be what we need to do—”

Eric sighs, waving his hand across the screen and my mouth clicks shut. I’m suddenly out of my depth with him. I’ve never felt so dismissed by him in all our years together.

“Emma, look. Give it another six months. Things are busy right now anyway, maybe we should acknowledge that the timing is off, right? Maybe it’s best if I finish up all these projects I have with John, and then in the spring we can revisit. Does that make sense?”

My throat tightens. Does that make sense? The words ricochet in my head, but I try to nod at him because I don’t know how to say that my heart is breaking without looking and feeling like a dramatic child. He’s talking to me like I’m a toddler.

I can hear the hiss of my mothers advice behind my ear. You’re being too pushy. That’s a great way to turn off your man.

I force a smile. “That makes sense. You’re right, thanks for letting me talk through this.” A violent urge that’s unfamiliar to me screams in my muscles and I know I need to end this call before I throw my phone at the wall.

Juvenile, maybe. But there’s only so much I can shove down. I press my lips together to try and hold back tears of disappointment.

“Hang in there for me, okay angel? I hate seeing you upset. I’ll be home soon and we can keep trying. After everything that’s happened here, I’m feeling a little lucky,” he adds with a wink.

I fake a small laugh. “I hope your meetings go well. I’ll call you tonight.”

“Bye, honey. ”

I hang up. Staring at the black screen, I feel the anger start to drain away now that I’m not looking at Eric’s face. Instead my body feels teem with melancholy. I feel hollow, somehow.

Six months…I can do it, if I have to. Like he said, we could keep trying in the meantime. If we get to spring and Eric still resists seeing a doctor? I have no idea what I’ll do.

Nothing, I guess. The ball is in his court.

My cell chirps. A text comes through from Bo, who must have woken up downstairs.

Bo: We’ve got plans tonight. I’ll pick you up at 8.

Bo: And don’t try to get out of it. I’ll drag you out of this house and shove you in my car.

Despite everything, I have to smile. Surprisingly, I don’t hate the idea of having plans, as long as it’s with Bo.

Maybe it’s even a good idea for Eric to see that I have things outside of the home to do.

That I’m still a person, not just a wife.

To him I’m just his angel . Not a woman.

Something otherworldly that is constantly poised and demure.

Almost like a doll.

Maybe I just need a night out so I can shake off this resentment. From the pressure of being perfect, of being held to the highest standards. I don’t like feeling this way toward my husband. I don’t want there to be animosity between me and Eric. I love him.

Bo will shake me free from this feeling. He’ll happily show me a night that will erase the troubles from my head.