Chapter 16 Lila
Lila
My techno alarm blasting repeatedly again, forcing me back to consciousness after what feels like mere minutes of sleep.
My body feels different this morning, there’s a lingering warmth where his hands touched me, phantom pressure where his weight held me down.
I stretch and wince at the slight soreness in my wrists, faint bruises already forming like bracelets.
What happened last night was real. Not a dream, not a fantasy pulled from one of my books.
And I’m going to have to face Valerie and Mia with this secret written all over my face.
I go through my morning routine on autopilot.
Shower, coffee, clothes. I pull on a long-sleeved shirt desperate to hide the dull marks circling my wrists.
In the bathroom mirror, I spot a faint pink mark on my neck where he kissed me.
I dab concealer over it, hands trembling slightly before covering it with a towel again.
What am I doing? Hiding evidence like some criminal?
The drive to work is a blur. My head buzzes with replays of last night, each memory sending fresh waves of heat through my body. I should be horrified. I should be calling the police. Instead, I’m pressing my thighs together at stoplights, reliving the pressure of him against me.
When I pull into the print shop parking lot, I catch myself smiling in the rearview mirror. A real smile, not the practiced one I’ve worn for years. I quickly school my expression into something more neutral, but it keeps creeping back. God, I’m a mess.
The bell chimes as I come through the back door. Valerie and Mia are already there, both hovering near the counter with coffee cups in hand.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in! You’re later than usual,” Valerie says, but her teasing tone falls away as she studies my face. “Holy shit, what happened to you?”
I freeze halfway to my desk. “What do you mean?”
Mia steps closer, her eyes narrowing. “You’re... glowing. And smiling. At 9:30 AM on a Tuesday.” She presses the back of her hand to my forehead. “Are you sick? Did you win the lottery? Did Eli finally get hit by a bus?”
A nervous laugh bubbles out of me before I can stop it. “No, nothing like that.” I set my purse down and busy myself with arranging things on my desk, avoiding their eyes.
“Spill it,” Valerie demands, blocking my path when I try to move toward the microwave to grab Val’s daily gift of morning coffee. “You haven’t looked like this since... actually, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look like this.”
I hesitate, suddenly aware of how crazy this will sound. My two best friends are staring at me with matching expressions of curiosity and concern. I trust them more than anyone else in my life. If I can’t tell them, who can I tell?
“I had an... encounter last night,” I begin, my voice dropping to a whisper even though we’re alone in the shop.
Mia’s eyebrows shoot up. “An encounter? Like, with a person? A male person?”
I nod, my face burning.
“Oh my god,” Valerie breathes. “You cheated on Eli?”
“No!” I say quickly, then backtrack. “Well, sort of. Not really. Nothing happened. I mean, something happened, but not... that.”
“You’re not making any sense,” Mia says, pulling me toward the back room. “Come on, we need privacy for this conversation.”
They usher me into the small break room and close the door. Valerie leans against it like she’s worried I might bolt, while Mia perches on the edge of the table, both of them staring expectantly.
I take a deep breath. “Remember how I told you about that guy at the bookstore? The one who tried to buy me those books?”
They nod in unison.
“And remember how I mentioned someone watching the house? Standing in the dune grass?”
More nods, more intense now.
“Well, it’s the same person. And last night, I caught him. Or he caught me. It’s complicated.”
I explain how I woke up thirsty, went to the kitchen, and saw him at the door. I tell them about grabbing the knife, about slipping on the steps, about him pinning me down. My body betraying me, where I let him touch me, where I came apart under his hands.
“And then I recognized his voice, it was the bookstore guy. I said ‘stop,’ and he just... left. Disappeared into the night.” I twist my hands in my lap, the sleeve of my shirt riding up slightly to reveal the edge of a dull bruise.
Valerie grabs my wrist before I can pull it back, pushing the sleeve higher. “Jesus, Lila,” she hisses. “He did this to you?”
I snatch my hand back. “It’s not what you think. He didn’t hurt me.”
“Those are fucking handprints,” Mia says, her voice rising. “He held you down. That’s assault!”
“No, it wasn’t like that,” I insist, though I know how it sounds. How do I explain that those bruises came from pleasure, not pain? That I didn’t fight him because I didn’t want to?
“Then what was it like?” Valerie asks, her tone softer now, concerned rather than accusatory.
I stare at the linoleum floor, tracing patterns with my eyes. “He stopped when I asked. He could have hurt me. I was alone, Eli wasn’t home, he had me pinned, but he didn’t. He just... left.”
“That doesn’t make him a good guy,” Mia says. “That makes him, bare minimum, not being a rapist.”
I flinch at the word. “I know how it sounds. I know I’m probably crazy. But for a moment there, I felt...” I trail off, unable to articulate the mix of fear and excitement and desire that still courses through me when I think of him.
“You felt what?” Valerie prompts.
“Alive,” I whisper. “I felt alive. For the first time in years.”
The room falls silent. I don’t dare look up, afraid of what I’ll see in their faces. Judgment, disgust, pity—all reactions I deserve.
“Lila,” Valerie says finally, her voice gentle. “You know this isn’t normal, right? A stranger watching your house, breaking in, putting his hands on you. That’s not romantic, it’s dangerous.”
“I know,” I say, though part of me rebels against the words.
“But nothing about my life is normal. My husband locks me out of my own bank accounts and chases me around the house. I sleep with furniture against my door. I have a safe word with my friends in case I need rescuing. Is it really that crazy that something abnormal would make me feel good for once?”
Mia sighs and slides off the table, coming to sit beside me. “We’re not judging you,” she says, though I can tell she absolutely is. “We’re worried. Men like this, they seem exciting at first. Different. But they all turn out the same in the end.”
“He’s not like Eli,” I say, a hint of defiance in my voice.
“You don’t know what he’s like,” Valerie counters. “You’ve only even been close enough to actually touch him once, let alone speak to him. That’s not exactly a solid character assessment.”
I bite my lip, knowing she’s right but hating to admit it. “I’m not saying I’m going to run away with him or anything. I’m just... I don’t know. Processing, I guess.”
“Just promise us you’ll be careful,” Valerie says. “And remember, if anything, anything, feels wrong, text us ‘fluffy’ and we’ll be there in ten minutes or less.”
“With baseball bats,” Mia adds, a fierce glint in her eye.
I laugh despite myself. “I promise. And thank you, for not thinking I’m completely insane.”
“Oh, we definitely think you’re insane,” Mia says, but she’s smiling now. “But we love you anyway.”
The conversation shifts as customers begin to arrive, though I catch Valerie and Mia exchanging worried glances throughout the morning.
I throw myself into work, grateful for the distraction from my swirling thoughts.
We print labels for a local bakery, package up a rush order of business cards, and sort through the day’s mail drop-offs.
By lunchtime, the tension has eased. We eat sandwiches in the back room, and Mia starts telling us about a disastrous date she went on over the weekend. It’s comforting, this return to normalcy, even if everything beneath the surface has shifted.
“Oh!” Mia says suddenly, mid-story. “I almost forgot. The club is doing a Halloween Masquerade next weekend. We should go!”
“I don’t know. It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything like that.” I say.
“Oh, come on. The point is, it’s a masquerade. Masks, dancing, drinks. We’re going.” Mia adds.
My heart skips at the word “masks.” Images of green X’s and a dimpled chin flash through my mind. “I don’t know,” I hedge. “Eli might be home.”
“Has he said anything about a trip?” Valerie asks.
I shake my head. “No, I never know when he’s going to be home or when he’ll be leaving again. I do know that once he does leave, I have at least three days.”
“Well, if he’s gone, you’re coming,” Mia declares. “No excuses. You need a night out that doesn’t involve being stalked or manhandled.”
I feel a blush creeping up my neck and hope they don’t notice. “Fine, if he’s gone, I’ll come.”
Valerie nods approvingly. “Good. And if anything happens with your ‘admirer’ before then, you tell us immediately. No keeping secrets just because you think we’ll judge you.”
“I won’t,” I promise, though I’m already wondering what I’ll say if he comes back tonight. If he touches me again. If I let him.
The rest of the day passes in a whirl of customers and orders. By closing time, I’m exhausted but strangely light. Sharing my secret, most of it, anyway, has lifted some of the weight from my shoulders. My friends might think I’m making a mistake, but they’re still here, still on my side.
As I drive home, I find myself scanning the dune grass, looking for his silhouette.
Part of me hopes he’s there. A larger part hopes he isn’t.
Because despite what I told Valerie and Mia, despite the thrill that runs through me at the memory of his touch, I know they’re right. This isn’t normal. This isn’t safe.
But then, neither is going home to Eli. And at least with my masked man, I have a choice.