Ever, Sarah (24 page)

I walked over and picked up ‘my’ bag and noticed a nail file lying on the top of the vanity. I picked it up and placed it in my jacket pocket along with my cell phone. On the way out the door, I grabbed the diary as well and shoved it into the zip pocket of my makeup bag as I was leaving.

I went through the closet and walked slowly down the back staircase that led to the kitchen. I heard a vacuum cleaner in the background and knew the cleaning staff was there, so I quietly slipped out the back door from the kitchen to the patio area. Then I slowly made my way around the side of the house, keeping close to the bushes in case someone looked out a window. When I got to the driveway, I crossed over to the side with the tall arborvitaes and walked down that side, using the tall trees for cover.

I got to the gate and threw my bag over the large brick pillar. It landed in the small drainage ditch. Then I shimmied through the opening between the gate and the pillar and after brushing myself off I picked up my bag, scaring a rabbit out of the brush, I jumped and let out a small cry. Appears I scared him almost as much as he scared me.

True to his word, Kevin was waiting on the road. When he saw me coming, he pushed the door of his BMW open and I scurried into the front seat. Resting my bag on my lap.

I nearly jumped when he reached over me.

“You need to put your seatbelt on.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry.” I pulled the belt over me locking the clasp in place with a click.

“Do you think anyone saw you?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

I was a bag of nerves at this point. Not knowing what the future held for me, or the repercussions of what I had just done. Last night, I pulled an empty page from the back of the diary and wrote a note to Brad. I left it on his valet, knowing only he would see it.

Brad,

I am full of self-doubt and pain, and right now just need my own space. Please give me this much.

Ever,

Sarah

I thought it funny that I signed the note that way. It was as automatic to me as breathing was. After I signed the note, I pulled out a card from the envelope inside Brad’s nightstand to see if the handwriting matched. Bingo! I
knew
at least one thing; I have the same penmanship. I quickly glanced at the card. It was a sweet card, full of ‘I love yous and beautiful sentiments. I found it difficult to believe I would give this to a monster that nearly killed me.

I remembered the rest of the cards I’d read in that envelope and felt a little more than guilty. He held onto all those cards and notes from me. Why? Did he love me in his own sick and twisted way?

“I told my mother where I’d be.” I said, as a self-defense type of confirmation.

“You what?!” His tone turned angry and his face reddened. When he saw the startled look on my face; he immediately relaxed his facial muscles, looking every bit the suave, handsome rescuer I thought him to be. Maybe he was afraid my ‘mother’ would tell Brad, I don’t know, but his immediate response took a backseat to his smiling warm eyes. “I just want you safe. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

We drove for some time, which I thought was rather weird since he was just ten minutes away when I called him. For some strange reason, I thought he lived in the area. Maybe he just happened to be near, or was he lurking around waiting for my call?

I was looking where we were going, but the compass on the dashboard of Kevin’s car kept changing directions North, West, South and I didn’t recognize any of the street names. I don’t know if he intended to confuse me, but I found it difficult to remember anything I saw during the ride. I don’t know if he drove like this because he thought we might be followed, or he was just being overly cautious. But when we pulled up in front of his very modest, but beautiful home, set in the middle of suburbia, I relaxed. His neighbors were relatively close, not like the Hyde Park home where you could scream at the top of your lungs and no one would hear you.

“Here we are.” He turned and looked at me. He was calm and totally within his element. “Stay there.”

He got out and ran around the car to my door, opening it, and assisting me out.

“Let me get that.” He said as he took my overnight bag from me.

We walked up to the house and climbed the five steps to the small porch and he put his key in the door and pushed it open. The first thing I saw was the living room. It was quaint and charming. Tastefully decorated with black leather sofa and love seat, and dark wood tables. There was a large dining area directly behind it. I stepped in and took a deep breath. I don’t know if it were due to being relieved or I was hoping for a memory.

“Here, have a seat. Let me make you a tea. I have your favorite.”

“Sounds wonderful. I could use a cup right now.”

Truth be known, I could use a stiff drink now, my nerves were positively shot, but tea would suffice, for now.

I stood for a moment as he walked towards the back of the house and like an obedient child; I followed behind him and stepped into the most pristine kitchen I’d ever seen. Or at least what I think I’d ever seen. It was all white, bright gleaming white.

He turned abruptly and I jumped back startled.

“Damn Sarah. You scared me.”

“That makes two of us.”

He continued filing the teapot with water and set it on the stove. The damned thing looked as though it had never been cooked on, and I mean never!

“May I use your bathroom?”

“Of course. Please. I want you to feel at home here.” He rushed to my side and pointed down the hall, “last door down.”

“Thank you.”

I walked slowly down the hall towards the rear of the house and tried to open the door. It was locked and as much as I toyed with the knob, I was unable to open it. I was about to walk back to the kitchen when I noticed another door, across the hall. I opened that and was relieved to find it was the bathroom.

Afterwards, I made my way back to the living room where Kevin sat. He handed me a cup.

“Milk and sugar are right there.”

“Thank you again. I love Earl Grey.”

“I thought English Breakfast was your favorite,” he looked at me as if he were studying my response. Without warning, he took the hot cup from my hands and walked back into the kitchen. “No matter, I have the variety Twinning’s, I’m pretty sure Earl Gray is in here.” His tone was brusque.

“I like them all,” I called out feeling embarrassed. “I’ll drink that one.”

“No. You need to have your
favorite
.”

I didn’t like the way he said the word favorite. Almost like he was coddling me.

After a few minutes, he brought the new cup of tea to me and sat down. He thankfully kept his distance. I guess he must have noticed I was a bit jumpy and uneasy after the ‘misunderstanding.’

“Let it draw a little, I just poured it.” He directed.

I did as he said and once it was dark enough, I added my sugar and milk.

As I drank my tea, I caught him staring intently at me several times. I attributed the uneasy vibe I got from him to my being skittish. I would look at him and he’d look away quickly, trying to make it seem as though he hadn’t been staring. The whole thing was rather comical and I would have laughed if it weren’t so pathetic.

“I’m guessing you want to go upstairs.”

I nearly spit the tea out of my mouth. I coughed and some went down the wrong pipe.

“Upstairs?” I asked.

He began laughing and I immediately turned red.

“Yes. Not what you think. I would never, you know, until you’re ready.” The eagerness in his eyes belied the words he spoke and I felt a shudder run through me.

“Cold?”

Not wanting to appear ungrateful or uncomfortable after all he had done for me, I told him I was.

“I didn’t sleep well last night, I guess I’m tired.”

“That would do it.”

He stood, walked to the closet and removed a sweatshirt from a hook on the inside of the door. It was a men’s gray hoodie.

“Here, this is the only one I have that you won’t be swimming in.” He held it up for me and I pushed my arms through the sleeves.

“Thank you.”

“Now, let’s rephrase that. Do you want to see your things upstairs…?” He waited for some indication from me, “or do you want me to bring it all down. Same thing to me, whatever makes you feel more comfortable. I understand that you are a bit doubtful. I’d be too, if…” He left it hanging there unfinished.

“No, I can go up.” I stood and waited for Kevin to lead the way. He walked over to the stairs and we both made our way to the top and down the hall. “Besides, I’d like to see your home.”

“I just moved here less than two months ago,” He explained, “so everything is in boxes for the most part.”

“Just moved? I thought you were taking me to…”

“My old apartment wasn’t big enough for us both, so I found this house. You were going to go house hunting with me, but then…I didn’t think you’d be in the hospital when I finally found this place…”

“Oh.”

“You seem disappointed.” He was staring closely at me and I was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

“No, it’s just that…I was hoping something familiar would jolt a memory.”

He turned away and didn’t answer, then pushed open a door and we both stepped inside. The first thing I noticed was that there were a few boxes, still taped, stacked in the corner. Now this is the part that caught me by surprise. The wall in that corner of the room was papered with pictures of me; all candid, every one of them.

I couldn’t turn my eyes away. He had managed to capture me in various moods, for lack of a better description, and it was clear that I was obviously unaware that anyone was taking my picture. I was laughing. Smiling. Talking to people who I had absolutely no clue to their identities. I looked thoughtful and I looked happy, very happy.

On the floor was a box. It had been opened, but I didn’t have to open the flaps to know what was inside.

‘Sarah’s things’ was written very neatly with a thick black marker on the outside.

Kevin walked over pushing the other boxes out of the way.

“These are your things.” He said simply, then stepped back.

I walked over and pulled the top flaps open. Inside was a small suitcase, a medium sized flat box and several knick knack type items wrapped in newspaper.

I reached in and pulled out the medium flat box.

“Let me lift that.” Kevin said as he reached in and removed the suitcase and stood there holding it.

“Is that…?”

“Yes. This is the bag you packed when you were leaving Brad.” He put it down in the middle of the carpeted floor.

I sat next to it and opened the two locks.

Holding my breath, I raised the top and gasped.

Packed inside the suitcase were neatly folded bras, panties, nightgowns, stockings, makeup, perfume and shoes.

Apparently I was running away in the hopes of becoming a hooker.

Either that or I didn’t do much other than have sex.

I said nothing. I pushed the garments aside and felt the blush rise from my chest to my face. Without looking up, too embarrassed to meet Kevin’s gaze, I opened the flaps of the medium flat box.

I heard him chuckle.

It might be funny to him, but I was mortified. What type of woman was I?

The flat box was filled with cards, and notes.

I lifted one and opened it. It was sexy and funny and snarky…and it was signed
Ever, Sarah
.

I opened a note and began to read it. If I thought I was red faced from seeing the contents of the suitcase, I was in for a shock at how much redder my skin could get. I was literally burning.

‘I love you. I love your body and how it fits so perfectly with mine. I love feeling you inside me…’

Needless to say I had to stop reading it. I was totally blunt and very, very, descriptive in my expression of our love and if I did write this note to Kevin, which I was trying to come to grips with, I was in love, or at the very least, in lust with him.

The words on this page were beautifully written by a woman very much in love, and they haunted me. A woman who enjoyed sex and the intimacy that came with it. I wanted to have those strong feelings again. I wanted to be whole again. I wanted to be me again!

Would I ever know the real me?

Would I ever remember?

“These are…um…very personal.”

“I know. I treasure every word.”

“How often do you read them?” I noticed the pages were worn from being folded over and over again.

This time
he
had the good sense to blush, “You don’t know how much I’ve missed you…and…your…warmth.”

“I don’t know how to feel right now. I hope you understand.” I tried to explain the total discomfort I was experiencing. I looked around the room, in the hopes of finding a hole I can fall into.