Where You Are, I Call Home

Chapter Thirteen:AVI-A Leash I Never Asked For

For the first time in two days, I was excited.

Actually excited.

And that alone surprised me.

I had already made peace with the fact that I wasn’t going to the party.

After Xavier had told me no, I had spent two days being irritated, confused, and honestly a little embarrassed.

Why was I even listening to another adult?

I was twenty-five years old.

I was a lawyer.

I made decisions for a living.

I stood in courtrooms and argued cases in front of judges.

Yet somehow, Xavier Falcon had looked at me and said, No, you’re not going.

And I had actually stopped and considered it.

Then again, Xavier was crazy.

So maybe that explained it.

But there was another reason I had been upset.

Sam had already paid for everything.

The table.

The arrangements.

Everything.

And I had already told him I was coming.

I couldn’t just call him and say, Sorry, my husband decided I wasn’t allowed to attend.

Absolutely not.

So when Xavier suddenly changed his mind and told me I could go, I was genuinely happy.

I had called Sam immediately.

“I’m coming.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“Your mysterious husband finally released you?”

I laughed.

“Don’t start.”

“I’m just happy you’re coming.”

And I was.

Sam was an old friend.

I wanted to see him.

I wanted one normal evening.

Just one.

I should have known better.

⸻

The next morning, breakfast was the usual interrogation.

“When are you leaving?”

“When are you coming home?”

“Who’s going?”

“What time will you be back?”

“Are you drinking?”

“How are you getting home?”

I answered most of them.

Some I ignored.

Eventually, I left for work.

And, naturally, my phone rang before I had even finished settling into my office.

Xavier.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“At work.”

“When are you coming home?”

“Later.”

“How much later?”

I sighed.

“Xavier.”

“Just answer.”

“I’ll come home after work.”

“Don’t be late.”

“I won’t.”

The call ended.

I stared at my phone.

I had no idea how I had gotten married to a human tracking device.

⸻

By the time I got home, I was exhausted.

But I still had to get ready.

I showered, changed, fixed my hair, and looked at myself in the mirror.

For once, I wasn’t wearing a suit.

I wore a nice shirt and fitted trousers.

Nothing dramatic.

Just different.

When I came downstairs, Xavier was sitting in the foyer.

He looked up.

His eyes traveled over me.

And for a second, he didn’t say anything.

Then—

“Wow.”

I stopped.

“What?”

“You look nice.”

“Thank you.”

“But why do you look this nice?”

I frowned.

“What does that mean?”

“You don’t dress like this at home.”

“I dress nicely.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“You wear suits or sweatpants.”

I stared at him.

“I wear other things.”

“Not like this.”

I sighed.

“Xavier, please.”

He stood.

“You look good.”

“Thank you.”

“You look good for someone.”

I stared at him.

“Don’t start.”

He smiled slightly.

“I’m just asking.”

“No, you’re not.”

He came closer.

“Call me.”

“I know.”

“Text me.”

“I know.”

“Answer when I call.”

“I know.”

“And don’t—”

“I know, Xavier.”

He nodded.

“Good.”

I walked toward the door.

Then I heard him say,

“Have fun.”

I turned around.

For a moment, I thought maybe he was actually going to let me enjoy myself.

I smiled.

“Thank you.”

Then I left.

⸻

The party was actually fun.

For the first hour.

Sam was happy to see me.

We talked.

We laughed.

I saw people I hadn’t seen in years.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t thinking about work.

Or my family.

Or my strange marriage.

Or Xavier.

Then my phone vibrated.

Xavier: Where are you?

I stared at it.

I replied.

Me: At the party.

Two minutes later.

Xavier: Who are you with?

I ignored it.

Another message.

Xavier: Avi.

Another.

Xavier: You said you would text me.

I sighed.

Me: I’m here with Sam and some friends.

His response came immediately.

Xavier: Okay.

I put my phone away.

Thirty seconds later—

Xavier: Are you drinking?

I closed my eyes.

Me: A little.

Xavier: Don’t drink too much.

I didn’t reply.

Another message.

Xavier: Are you okay?

I looked around.

Everyone was laughing.

Music was playing.

People were dancing.

I was fine.

Me: Yes.

Two minutes later—

Xavier: Why aren’t you replying?

I stared at the screen.

Because I’m at a party.

I typed it.

Then deleted it.

Typed again.

Me: Xavier, I’m at a party. We don’t need to text every two minutes.

His response came almost immediately.

Xavier: I’m your husband.

I stared at that sentence.

Then another message came.

Xavier: You should be texting me.

And then—

Xavier: I don’t like you being out with other people.

I blinked.

That was bold.

Extremely bold.

He didn’t like me being out with other people?

Was he serious?

I put my phone down.

Five minutes later, it rang.

Xavier.

I ignored it.

It rang again.

And again.

Finally, I excused myself from the table and answered.

“What?”

“Why weren’t you picking up?”

“Because I’m at a party.”

“You left.”

“I stepped outside to answer you.”

“Why?”

“Because you kept calling.”

“Where are you?”

I took a deep breath.

“Xavier, please don’t start.”

“When are you coming home?”

“It’s eleven.”

“And?”

“I’ll come home.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t stay out too late.”

“Okay.”

I ended the call.

I walked back inside.

But the evening had changed.

I kept checking my phone.

Another message.

Then another.

Then another.

Every few minutes.

Eventually, I stopped counting.

I wasn’t enjoying myself anymore.

I had come to celebrate Sam.

Instead, I was spending half my night answering questions.

Where are you?

Who are you with?

Are you okay?

When are you leaving?

Are you drinking?

Why aren’t you answering?

I finally looked at the time.

12:47 a.m.

I sighed.

I turned toward Sam.

“I have court in the morning.”

He looked at me.

“Already?”

“Unfortunately.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.”

I wasn’t.

But I was tired.

“I need to go.”

He nodded.

“Thanks for coming.”

“I wouldn’t miss your birthday.”

He smiled.

I hugged him quickly.

Then I left.

⸻

The driver brought me home.

The moment I stepped inside, I saw Xavier sitting in the foyer.

Again.

I stopped.

He looked up.

“Oh.”

“You’re back.”

I stared at him.

“You’ve been texting me all night.”

“I was making sure you were okay.”

“You sent me messages every two minutes.”

“You said you would text.”

“I did.”

“Not enough.”

I laughed bitterly.

“You should have told me that the agreement included live updates every sixty seconds.”

His expression tightened.

“I was worried.”

“I was at a party, Xavier.”

“I know.”

“And I was answering you.”

“I know.”

“Then what exactly was the problem?”

He didn’t answer.

I rubbed my forehead.

“I’m going to bed.”

“Why?”

I stared at him.

“Why?”

“You’re going to bed already?”

“It’s one in the morning.”

“You’re tired?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

I almost laughed.

“Because I went to work.”

I pointed at myself.

“Then I went to a party.”

Then I pointed toward the phone in my hand.

“And I spent half the night texting you.”

I shook my head.

“I’m exhausted, Xavier.”

He looked at me.

“I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“I understand.”

My voice softened slightly.

“But you didn’t let me enjoy myself.”

Silence.

“I was there physically.”

I swallowed.

“But mentally, I was here answering you.”

He looked away.

I didn’t wait for an answer.

I walked upstairs.

I was angry.

Not because Xavier had told me not to go.

Not anymore.

He had eventually allowed me to go.

But he had still managed to put a leash around the entire evening.

He had given me permission—

but not freedom.

And somehow, that felt worse.

I entered my bedroom and closed the door.

For a moment, I stood there in silence.

Then I whispered to myself,

“This marriage is going to drive me insane.”

Because the strangest part wasn’t that Xavier was possessive.

It was that somewhere underneath all that possessiveness, I could tell he genuinely cared.

And I didn’t know what scared me more—

the fact that he cared so much…

or the fact that a small part of me was beginning to care that he cared.