Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Mark remained at the forefront of my thoughts for the rest of the day. That evening, instead of catching up on the sleep I’d missed the previous night, I lay wide-eyed, worried about him. There had been something I couldn’t quite put my finger on that made me unable to relax enough to sleep.
I lay on the bed, flipping through channels, keeping an eye on the time. At midnight he still wasn’t back.
Sighing, I threw the covers off and decided to go have something to drink. I walked over to my bag and got my favorite mug out. It was weird but it was a little piece of home I had brought with me.
I wandered through the quiet apartment to the kitchen. The fluorescent light was bright and I blinked a couple of times. Where did I start? I felt so out of place and I had no idea where he kept anything.
I searched through the cupboards but he didn’t have any tea, and if I drank coffee now I would be guaranteed enough caffeine to keep me bouncing off the walls. Sleep would be out of the question.
My only alternative was some warm milk. I found a saucepan and poured some milk. I eyed the fancy stove, wondering how the hell you turned it on. Frustrated, I pushed a couple of buttons and waited.Nothing.
I was so busy trying to figure out the contraption that I didn’t hear the heavy footsteps.
“You need some help?” he drawled, and I let out a shriek, turning to face an amused Mark.
“You scared me.” I put my hand to my chest to catch my breath.
“What are you trying to do?” he asked, shrugging out of his jacket.
“Heat milk. But I need a programming degree to work it.” I frowned, turning back to the stove that I couldn’t get to work.
“Here, let me.” He came up behind me. The proximity of his body to mine made me hold my breath. His hand came around and he pushed a couple of buttons. “That should do it.”
“Thanks,” I breathlessly said, trying to act like his nearness didn’t affect me.
I needed a minute to recover when he moved to the side and leaned against the counter.
“How was your evening?” The strain was clear in his voice.
“Fine. I was just struggling to sleep.” I snuck a side-glance at him. He looked tired. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” He sighed. I wanted to reach out and soothe the tension in his jaw, but it wasn’t my place.
“You sure?” He didn’t look okay.
“There are times in life we can do something about and then there are times when nothing will change the outcome.”
It was the deepest thing he had ever shared with me and it made me more concerned than before.
“What’s going on?” This time I didn’t stop myself from touching my hand to his arm.
My concerned eyes searched his.
“I can’t talk about it.” It came out as a whisper.
He looked like he was in pain. I couldn’t explain why, but I moved to wrap my arms around him and hug him.
“That’s okay.”
He didn’t move, and I held him. For a few minutes I continued to hold him, unable to release him. It should have felt awkward but it didn’t. I couldn’t explain it. Then I slowly I slackened my hold, dropping my arms before I stepped away. He watched me with a look I couldn’t decipher.
The milk began to boil over and I turned my attention to pulling it off the stove.
I swore when I burned my hand against the side.
Tears of pain sprang into my eyes and I held my hand to my chest. Mark took control and pulled me to the sink where he ran cold water over my hand.
I hissed when the water made contact with my burn. I was so accident-prone.
For a while I stayed there, watching the water stream over my hand. Mark’s hand held my wrist firmly and it felt like my skin pulsed differently under his touch. It was hypnotic.
“I’m fine,” I said, pulling my hand back to survey my burn. It wasn’t too big but the skin was still red and sore.
“Let me put something on it. I’ve got some stuff that’ll help.”
He left and I waited for him, admonishing myself for being so wrapped up in him and how he made me feel that I hadn’t been paying attention.
It wasn’t long before he returned with a tube of medication to help ease the pain.
“This might hurt.”
With a gentleness I’d never seen him possess before, he carefully covered the burn along the side of my hand with the soothing cream. He slowly massaged it in.
“Thank you,” I mumbled, feeling my brain scatter, and all I could do was feel the touch of his fingers against my skin.
“You really need to find someone to take care of you,” he murmured while he finished rubbing the cream onto the burn.
His words made something in me bristle and I firmly pulled my hand back, cradling it against my chest. “I can take care of myself.”
He sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know exactly what you meant.” I straightened my back. My feelings were hurt and nothing he was going to say was going to change that.
“Tracy,” he said, but I shook my head.
“I can’t look after myself so I need a guy to be able to do that,” I stated with a raised eyebrow, waiting for him to dare to confirm my accusation.
“There is nothing wrong with having someone to look out for you.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “Having someone doesn’t make you incapable. Just look at your brother and Sarah.”
I’d never thought of it that way. I frowned. “Then why don’t you have someone?”
If his advice was good enough for me, why wasn’t he following it?
“Some people need more than others,” he answered cryptically.
“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m needy?” Was I being overly sensitive?
He shook his head. “No, you’ve got it all wrong.” He let out a heavy breath. “Let me put it this way. You want someone in your life to share things with, don’t you?”
I nodded. “Doesn’t everyone?”
“I don’t.”
My happy, clear-cut, cupid mind couldn’t process what he was saying.
“You…mean you don’t want…you’re never going to be with someone?” I found it almost impossible to restate what he meant in my own words.
All those fairytales I had dreamed up about us ending up together disappeared up in smoke. I had spent so much time imagining how he would realize I was the one for him and we would end up together. It would be perfect.
“I don’t want the responsibility of another’s happiness.”
Responsibility wasn’t a word I had ever associated with being in a relationship. It didn’t go with love, happiness.
“You make it sound like a job,” I murmured, still trying to see where he was coming from.
He shrugged. “People have different views and I’m expressing mine.”
I folded my arms while I digested this new information. He walked past me to the saucepan.
“What on earth is this?” He dangled my favorite mug from his fingers. His expression was comical.
“My mug.” It was big, bulky and colorful, completely opposite to his boring white mugs.
“It looks like a unicorn crapped over it,” he murmured before tilting some of the milk from the saucepan into it.
I ignored him. I loved the multitude of colors painted across it.
“That’s rich coming from you. Everything in your cabinets is either gray, cream or white.”
He smiled and handed me my mug of milk. I took it tentatively, making sure to handle the mug with the hand I hadn’t burned.
“You couldn’t decide on a color so you opted for the most boring color on the planet?” I quipped.
“I like white.”
I had never heard anyone admit their favorite color was white. The more I learned about him the more I realized I didn’t know him at all. It was pretty depressing considering the years he had been in my life.
If I didn’t really know the real Mark, did that in turn undermine how I felt about him? Was I in love with the idea of him and not the reality? Did it really matter, when his outlook on life was so different than mine?
It had been nearly a week and I felt like I was being stalked.
Mark was everywhere. He followed me around, he went to every appointment, the only time I got time to myself was when he would disappear into his study or the couple of times he had gone out late to return in the early hours of the morning.
He was so secretive about where he had been and what he had been doing. I’d never met anyone like him before.
A part of me wanted to know what he was doing but there was a part of me that was worried about the possibility of a woman. I don’t know why I couldn’t stop caring, but I did. It showed I was nowhere near getting close to being over my feelings for him.
It was becoming more difficult keeping up with my emotions around Mark. In fact, being around him was only amplifying what I felt for him. To survive with some of my dignity intact, I needed to put space between us.
It left me with only once choice, one that I had felt was impossible to make only a week ago, but it was looking more attractive than spending another week with Mark.
There had been no further contact with Jack, no emails, no calls, nothing.
While I had understood to a certain extent Mark’s protectiveness, I really didn’t feel it was needed any longer.
That night, over a cup of tea, I reached a decision to face whatever consequences fell my way.
Tomorrow was Saturday and I was determined to go back home, no matter what Mark said or threatened me with.
If that meant revealing the details about my breakup with Jack to my brother, then so be it, I would handle it.
My parents usually held Sunday lunch to bring everyone together once a week. So it wouldn’t be long before I would have to face my brother once Mark told him about what I had been hiding.
I wouldn’t be able to move all my stuff in one trip but I intended to come back the next day to get the rest of my cameras and equipment after lunch with my parents.
While I still craved acceptance from my family, I was a grownup and I was responsible for my decisions even if some of them seemed questionable.