CHAPTER TWO LILLAH #2
His eyes narrowed. I could see him deciding whether to push it or let it go. I could see the argument forming behind his eyes, that he wanted to say something else, something that would win this.
"Your dog shit in my yard," he said. Quieter this time, but stubborn. Like he was going to will it into being true.
"Goodnight."
I closed the door before he could say anything else and turned the deadbolt. I stood there with my back against the door, my heart beating faster than it should've been. I took a few deep breaths, my palms were damp; and I was sweating.
Cooper was looking up at me from the floor, his big brown eyes completely unbothered. His tail swished once across the tile.
"It wasn't you," I said to him. "I know it wasn't you."
He yawned.
I went to the kitchen, picked up my wineglass, and poured another half glass from the bottle on the counter to calm my nerves. I took a long sip and set the glass down, both hands flat on the granite countertop, and waited for my body to calm down.
I hated that my hands were still shaking.
I hated that a man raising his voice at my front door could still send a jolt through my body that made my shoulders tighten and my throat close up.
Brett had always done it with more sophistication.
He hadn't pounded on doors. He'd leaned against them, blocking exits with his body while keeping his voice low and patient, like he was explaining something simple to someone who didn't get it.
"I'm not yelling at you, Lillah. I'm just saying you're wrong.
" He never yelled because he never had to.
He'd learned to take me apart without raising his voice, which was worse.
Stop it. He's just an idiot neighbor. It’s not the same thing.
I had to remind myself. It wasn't the same thing. I knew that. The guy on my porch was rude and wrong, but he wasn't Brett. His anger had come from something obvious. Brett's anger never did.
I finished my wine and rinsed the glasses, then made my way upstairs. Cooper followed me and settled on his bed at the foot of mine. He circled twice before lying down on the massive orthopedic cushion I'd gotten for him.
I changed into an oversized t-shirt and climbed into bed. From my window, I could see the house next door. The porch light was on, and through the downstairs window I could make out the guy moving around his living room. He was tall, even from this angle.
He had to be an athlete. I'd spent enough time around athletes to recognize the way they carried themselves. My brother played college lacrosse. Two of my friends from design school had married athletes. And Brett was a minor league baseball player, and he'd carried that same energy.
I got up and pulled the curtains shut so I couldn’t see the house.
I didn't need to think about athletes, exes, or angry men on porches.
I needed to clear my mind and think about client presentations and the two consultations I had booked this week, and the pitch deck I was building for a potential commercial project that could change everything for my business if I got the contract.
That meeting was on Thursday with the owner of a boutique hotel in the downtown area that was looking for a design overhaul.
This project was the biggest opportunity I'd considered since starting Winters Design and securing it would generate substantial revenue.
Not surviving revenue, but growing revenue.
I lay there in the dark. Cooper jumped up and lay at the end of the bed, resting his head on my leg, and once he was comfortable, his breathing changed into a steady rhythm at my feet.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand, and without thinking, I reached for it.
Mila: How's your night going? Did you figure out the curtain situation?
I typed back.
Lillah: Yes, curtains are getting replaced, otherwise they are going to drive me bonkers. Oh, and my new neighbor showed up at my door at 10pm accusing Cooper of shitting in his yard.
Immediately the three dots jumped on the screen.
Mila: Wait, what? Is he hot?
Lillah: He was yelling at me.
Mila: That doesn't answer my question.
I stared at the screen and thought for a moment. The jaw, his shoulders, the way his t-shirt had stretched across his chest. His thick dark hair, blue eyes, and his height and body filling my doorframe.
Lillah: Looks really don't matter. He is an asshole. Goodnight Mila.
Mila: Sleep tight. Give Cooper a hug and tell him I love him. Oh and from your non-answer I will take it that he is hot and you just don’t want to admit that to yourself yet.
I giggled then set my phone down and looked up at the ceiling. I watched the fan spin slowly, circulating the warm air around the room. I heard a car door shut somewhere outside, and then everything went quiet.
I let out a sigh. My body was still holding the tension from earlier.
I could feel it in my shoulders and my jaw, and there was a space between my shoulder blades that wouldn't release.
My therapist had told me it was hyper-vigilance, my body's security system always scanning for threats, on high alert because it had spent three straight years learning that home was not safe.
My home was safe now. No one had a key aside from me, and no one was going to come through my door at midnight smelling like smoke and booze and wake me up to tell me I'd put the dishes away wrong.
I rolled over and buried my face in the pillow. Cooper shifted at the foot of the bed, rolled onto his side and rested his body against mine, letting me know he was here. I put my hand on him, gently petting him.
No matter how hard I tried I couldn't forget the way the guy from next door looked at me.
It wasn't anger, more frustration. He'd expected me to fold, and when I hadn't, he didn't know what to do with that.
Apparently, no one had told him no before.
I'd said no and left him standing on my porch with nothing.
I wasn't folding for anyone anymore.
I'd spent enough time folding into myself, making myself smaller to fit inside a life that was never and would never be mine.
I folded my opinions, my voice, my instincts and tucked them away so Brett wouldn't have to deal with the full version of myself.
When I stood up straight and took the space I was owed, I had promised myself I'd never go back.
Some angry neighbor with dog shit on his shoes would not change anything.
I pulled the blanket around me and closed my eyes. Cooper let out a sigh and snuggled against me.