Chapter 2
ESSENCE
By the time I'm done making lunch, my head hurts, Lunchbox and his cage still need to be cleaned, and the arousal I was feeling fifteen minutes ago has only gotten turned up because I keep thinking about the masked man.
I first noticed him a few months ago standing outside my bedroom window watching me get undressed. Of course, I freaked out and almost called the police, but he held up a knife and dangled it around like he was threatening me, so I put my phone down.
The sharp silver blade glistened in the moonlight, and I couldn’t help but think of all the pain and pleasure he could cause with that knife.
At first, I was creeped out, but then he’d texted me.
UNKNOWN:
Let me see that beautiful body, baby.
I shook my head and closed my curtains. That fear quickly turned into arousal when I realized just how much I liked the stranger’s attention.
So, for the past four or five months, I've been kind-of sort-of cheating on my boyfriend with a complete stranger who watches me through my bedroom window, either down in the backyard or up in the tree where he has the perfect view into my bedroom.
I haven’t told a soul about him, not even my older sister, Ebony—whom I share everything with—and I don’t plan to anytime soon.
I eat my lunch quickly in the kitchen before grabbing Lunchbox and stomping upstairs.
Going straight to the bathroom, I place him in the bathtub and turn the water on.
His beautiful black and white spotted fur is completely caked with poop, and I just can’t fathom why or how someone could be so cruel to such an innocent little thing.
One of these days, I'm going to find the courage to leave Evan. I'm so tired of dealing with his pathetic, abusive ass every single day. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself—I don’t know what I ever saw in him because he’s been this way since I first met him three years ago.
He left me to die in a fire after he got drunk and decided to microwave his food that was wrapped in aluminum foil. That alone should have been enough for me to finally leave him, but I'd decided to give him a second chance because, for some reason, I believe in those.
After three rounds of shampoo, I condition and rinse Lunchbox before taking him out of the tub and letting him air-dry.
In the meantime, I spend the next fifteen minutes cleaning and sanitizing every surface of the bathroom until I feel like it’s clean enough.
Only then do I feel okay to finally take a shower.
Unfortunately, the water isn’t as hot as I would like it, but it’s enough to ease some of the pain in my head and tension in my muscles.
I shower quickly, brush my teeth, wash my face, tie up my thick curls, and get into my favorite oversized t-shirt before sliding into bed, which is where I plan to spend the rest of the afternoon.
Lunchbox’s cage can wait until later, but for now I'll have to line the bedroom floor with puppy pads, which Evan won’t be happy about.
With any luck, he’ll get so fed up that he’ll decide to sleep in the guest bedroom. I’d originally wanted to turn that room into a space for Lunchbox, or even a room for our child if we’d decided to have one, but Evan was so against it.
“I want my parents to have somewhere to stay when they come visit,” he’d said, even though he hasn’t seen his parents since he left home at eighteen.
Even though he vehemently denies it every single time I bring it up, I know that he’s still holding onto the hope that they’ll spend the time and money to come down here. His parents have made it perfectly clear that they don’t support his ways and refuse to see him until he shapes up.
I’ve met them once over video call, and it was the most awkward exchange of my life. I still can’t believe that those two people birthed Evan.
When my phone screen lights up from a text, my sour mood instantly improves.
DANTE:
How are you?
I sit up in the bed and cross my legs underneath me.
ME:
I’ve been better. How are YOU? I know today has been hard on you.
DANTE:
I wish you had come to the repass. I needed you.
Fuck. I wasn’t expecting him to say that.
My stomach flutters.
So… I've been kind-of-sort-of seeing Dante for the past few months, too. Our relationship is complicated, to say the least. He wants me to leave Evan, and I want to as well, but I’m not entirely comfortable with change.
It took a lot for me to move in with Evan after living with my parents and sister for so long, and I procrastinate a lot.
Ending one relationship to jump headfirst into another is terrifying.
Dante isn’t the kind of man one simply dates. He’s passionate and possessive, and he’s made it very clear that he isn’t okay with sharing me.
Soon. I’ll leave Evan soon—after I muster up the courage to do it. Even if it takes me leaving in the middle of the night.
I let out a breath and try to figure out what to say next, but he sends another text before I can.
DANTE:
I have to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.
ME:
I’m sorry, Dante.
I wait to see if he’ll respond to my text, but he leaves me on read.
Huffing out a breath, I throw myself back into the pillows. I didn’t realize he felt that way; if he’d told me how much he wanted me there, I would have made sure to be there.
I’m so selfish. He just buried his son and all I can think of is how hard it is for me. Leo wasn’t mine; I should have been there for Dante today, and now I fear I’ve just fucked up any chances I had with him.
Lunchbox starts to whimper from the floor, so I pick him up and snuggle with him under the covers.