Withstanding the Enemy

Nineteen Emma

Emma…

The smell of musky, dust balls is the first thing my mind registers. I blink myself awake as a flash of light blinds me. Setting up on the couch in the reading nook, my eyes land on Chance sitting on the floor with his back against the couch as he lazily flips through a book.

“About time,” he says as he shifts to his knees and turns toward me.

“What happened?”

“Well you fell back over some boxes with a knife in your hand—cutting your arm. Then you passed out from the blood.”

I look down at my left forearm to see white gauze wrapped around it and it all comes back to me. “Oh, oh my gosh, Chance… I’m sorry,” I say hiding my face in humiliation.

He must think I’m crazy.

“There is nothing for you to be sorry about. How are you feeling now?”

“I'm sorry for freaking out on you. I feel fine … I guess. How long was I out?”

“Not long—just long enough for me to stop the bleeding, glue you up, and walk around and eat a sandwich,” he teases. “Only a few minutes.”

“Thank you, Chance. I am sorry I freaked out.”

Standing up, he says, “Really, it’s okay. Everyone handles blood differently. But you’re good now, right?”

I move my left arm to evaluate the pain. It stings but I know I am going to be fine. “Yeah, I'm fine, thanks to you.” I stand up.

“Good, because we have a lot to do.” He claps his hands together.

“Maybe, if I had eaten today—I wouldn’t have passed out,” I say thinking out loud and following him to the desk. Again, I run smack into the back of Chance as he halts to a stop.

I look up as he turns around. “First things first—we feed you,” he says, his tone sharp as he plants his large hands on my shoulders and turns me toward the exit.

The aroma of pizza has my mouth watering the minute we walk into Mama’s Pizza Shop. I stare indecisively at the menu. I’m starving.

“What can I get you?” A younger woman with her hair piled on top of her head asks. I watch her hair bob as she flips her focus between Chance and I. Her eyes light-up with every glance she gives Chance, making it obvious that she is checking him out. Really? I’m right here…

“Chance, are you eating—I'll buy?” I ask.

“I can always eat pizza. I will take one meat lovers and two slices of your pepperoni. What do you want?” He looks down at me.

“I'm so hungry. I could eat the whole menu … umm … I will do the same … oh and can I get an order of the cheesy bread, too? Please.”

The lady’s eyes never leave Chance. “Medium or large?” she asks as if I’m not in the room.

“Large,” I say choosing to ignore the sliver of irritation that wants to surface. I begin to bounce with excitement for the food.

Chance laughs and I feel the need to defend myself. “Hey, a girl needs to eat and I'm starving.”

“It’s $28.98,” the lady says fluttering her eyelashes at Chance.

Really! Could she be more obvious.

“It goes on account 1572, please,” I say crisply.

The thought of Rick suddenly floods my mind—Jealous … I’m not jealous.

“I bet you five dollars you can't eat it all.” Chance winks at me.

I think about it for a minute. “I was going to split the cheesy bread with you. So is the bread included?” I say knowing how much I can eat when I’m hungry.

“I'm not giving up my half of cheesy bread.”

Arriving at a table, I stick out my hand. “Double or nothing.” He smiles as we sit and shakes my hand.

“You’re really going to eat all that?”

“Oh yes! If I haven't eaten all day, you would be surprised how much I can eat. I’m winning that bet. Besides, I had lots of practice when I was little, sometimes going days…” I stop myself abruptly and look to the food counter.

I hear Chance shift in his chair. s**t, I said to much … What is he going to think—

“Here,” he says and I watch as he pulls out his wallet and pays me for the bet.

“But I haven’t even started yet…”

His chestnut eyes soften. “I know you will win.”

Just then they announce our food, he stands retrieving the tray and brings it back to the table. I look up to him. “Thank you.”

“So why haven't you eaten yet?” he says sounding bothered by it.

Taking a bite of my pizza, I cover my mouth. “Just busy this morning,” I say as heat crawls up to my face.

He pauses before speaking again and takes a leveling breath. “I thought Rick took care of you?” he murmurs.

I set my pizza down and I pick up my napkin. An overwhelming sense of protection builds-up in my chest and I feel the urge to defend Rick. “He does. We didn't expect this morning to take as long as it did.”

Why do I need to explain this to Chance? It’s not his business!

His warm eyes shadow to black. “What is more important than to meeting your basic needs?” he asks tersely.

“It wasn't like that. We went ring shopping and time got away from us.”

Chance’s nostrils flair for a brief second, as he looks to my left hand. Silence stretches between us and he forces his gaze out the window.

“Do you love him?” he asks, his voice just barely above a whisper.

I square my shoulders and challenge his question. “And what does it matter to you if I love him or not?”

The golden hues of his chocolate eyes illuminate as he meets my eyes. “It matters.”

I divert my gaze, unable to stand the intensity of his. “It shouldn't.”