Frayed Silk(22)

I turn around and lean against the sink, drawing air into my empty lungs. Glancing up, I find him leaning in the doorway, watching me with what looks like remorse in his blue eyes.

He wouldn’t have. Not her. Would he?

As if knowing where my thoughts have gone, he shakes his head subtly and straightens from the wall. “I’ll go shower the kids.”

My eyes stay glued to where he was standing as my thoughts tumble and tangle together, trying in vain to make sense of something that just doesn’t make any sense at all.

Oh, what a fucked-up web we’ve weaved.





Tuesday arrives quicker than I would have liked it to.

I walk into the shelter, kind of surprised Jared wasn’t waiting for me this morning like he has been lately. I’m also a little concerned about the disappointment I feel over that.

“Morning, Glenda,” I say as I sign in.

“Oh, good morning, Dahlia.” She puts a box down that she was carrying. “Would you mind giving me a hand this morning instead of working in the kitchen? There’s a new girl who’s joining us for a little while to build some hours up for her college application, so Jared took her under his wing.” She smirks, shaking her head and causing her gray bob to bounce around. “Let’s hope he actually gets some work done.” She laughs.

My stomach somersaults at the news. “Oh, okay. Sure.” I force a smile and follow her into the storeroom where we spend the next hour reorganizing clothes, linen, and bringing in new donation bags to start sorting through.

“I’m going to hit the bathroom. Back in a minute,” I tell Glenda who just waves me off as she goes over her checklist.

Feeling curious, I can’t help myself and decide to walk by the kitchen. I don’t see any new girl, though. Then I hear it. A giggle as I spot Jared’s broad back. He moves to the side to reveal someone who looks like she’s barely eighteen, slender and athletic with a pixie styled haircut. Her hand brushes his arm, and she beams up at him as he says something to her. I don’t know what I feel more sickened over, watching them or the fact that I feel a little annoyed over seeing him with another girl in the first place. Girl. Right, because I’m a thirty-two-year-old woman with two children and a failing marriage. I shouldn’t give a shit, but, oh fuck it … I just do.

I turn to leave, continuing down the hall to the bathroom where I do my business, wash my hands, and stare at myself in the mirror for a moment. I don’t feel old. In fact, I’ve only seen a couple of random gray hairs on my head. But watching them, seeing the stark differences between me and her makes me feel ancient. I shake my head, telling myself to get over it. This is what I wanted, right? For him to move on and leave me alone. So why do I feel so annoyed about it?

I open the door, keeping my head low as I head back to the storeroom, but then a hand wraps around my bicep and tugs me into an old cleaning closet. I squeal, and Jared covers my mouth with his hand as he maneuvers me against a cold, cement wall and stands over me.

He removes his hand from my mouth, and I stare up at him with narrowed eyes.

“What are you doing?” I whisper-hiss.

He grins, his white teeth glowing in the dark room, and I stare at that slightly crooked front tooth until his hands travel up my arms to cup my cheeks. My eyes lift to his.

“Where’ve you been?” He frowns.

“In the storeroom with Glenda, seeing as you apparently don’t need any extra help in the kitchen today,” I snap then wince. Yikes.

He only smiles wider. “Blondie, is something wrong?”

I close my eyes and sigh. “No, I’m being stupid. Don’t worry about it.”

Leaning in farther, he brushes his lips over my cheek. “God, you always smell so damn good.”

“Jared,” I warn, trying to push him away. “Friends, remember?”

He groans. “Yeah, yeah. Can I take you out after we’re done here? Maybe another coffee?”

I shake my head. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He skims his finger across my exposed collarbone. “So stop thinking, Blondie. I’ll meet you out front.” He smiles again before opening the door and walking out without waiting for another response or even looking to see if the coast is clear. Of course, he wouldn’t. He’s not the one doing anything wrong here.

An hour later, I sign out and wave goodbye to Glenda before grabbing my purse and heading outside, thinking that I’ll just get in my car and leave before he can trick me into anything again. But as if he knew my plan, there he stands, half leaning against my car. He’s crossed his tattooed arms over his chest, and he’s wearing a pair of Ray-Bans with a devilish grin to match. Combine them with his low-slung dark denim jeans, white t-shirt, and slicked back dark brown hair, and he’s enough to make anyone’s heart start pounding faster than it should.

He straightens, walking over to me then directing me back through the lunchtime crowd with a hand at my lower back. I don’t ask where we’re going because I’m too busy trying to figure out what happened to my sense of self-control. I’m also trying desperately not to inhale his tobacco and clean linen scent. But it’s hard, especially with the warmth of his hand seeping through my black sundress.

After a few blocks, he finally stops in front of an old movie cinema.