Chapter 11
1049 Words
"She had a walk at nine. The dogs needed her. Routine needed her. She dressed in a hurry, wearing her jeans, her hoodie, and her burgundy coat, and went out."
The difference in the park was noticeable today. The week was going well, with fewer people on the paths, the leaves beneath their feet crunchy, the water’s edge reflecting the pale grey sky above. She clipped the leashes of Bella and Beau, who tugged her toward the water’s edge.
She did not see him at first.
He was on the bench—their bench—waiting.
Black coat. Hands clasping his knees together. His eyes are fixed on her the moment she enters.
Elena’s steps faltered.
He stood. Slow. Deliberate
She continued walking. Directly toward him. Not running. Not hiding.
When she reached the bench, she stopped. Let the dogs sniff his shoes. Bella was leaning against his leg as if she belonged. “You’re early,” she said.
“I wanted to see you.” Simple. Honest.
She folded her arms. “After last night?”
“Especially after last night.” His gaze dropped to her wrist. “You’re wearing it.”
“I needed to think.”
“And?”
She looked into his eyes. “I don’t know what I want.”
He stepped closer, not touching, but in near proximity, so she could make out the warmth from him in the cool air.
“You want to be safe,” he said quietly. “You want to be seen. You want someone who won’t leave when things get hard.”
Her throat tightened. “And you think that’s you?”
“I know it is.”
She averted her gaze-to the water, the skyline, anywhere but at him.
“You scare me,” she admitted.
"I know." He reached out-slow-brushed his knuckles along her jaw. Gentle. Possessive. "But you like it too."
She felt her breath catch.
He tilted her chin up, forced her to look at him.
"Tell me I'm wrong," he whispered.
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.“You’re early,” she said.
“I wanted to see you.” Simple. Honest.
She folded her arms. “After last night?”
“Especially after last night.” His gaze dropped to her wrist. “You’re wearing it.”
“I needed to think.”
“And?”
She looked into his eyes. “I don’t know what I want.”
He stepped closer, not touching, but in near proximity, so she could make out the warmth from him in the cool air.
“You want to be safe,” he said quietly. “You want to be seen. You want someone who won’t leave when things get hard.”
Her throat tightened. “And you think that’s you?”
“I know it is.”
She averted her gaze-to the water, the skyline, anywhere but at him.
“You scare me,” she admitted.
"I know." He reached out-slow-brushed his knuckles along her jaw. Gentle. Possessive. "But you like it too."
She felt her breath catch.
He tilted her chin up, forced her to look at him.
"Tell me I'm wrong," he whispered.
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out. His thumb brushed along her lower lip. Barely a touch. Teasing. Testing.
She didn’t pull away.
‘You liked being pinned against the wall,’ he said. Low. Rough. ‘Liked feeling wanted. Needed.’
Her cheeks burned.
“Say it,” he whispered. “Or walk away.”
She doesn't walk away.
Instead, she tilted forward, just a little.
His hand went to the back of her neck. His grip was firm, controlling, not painful, just holding.
He did not kiss her.
He did not need to.
The promise of it hung between them—thick, electric, terrifying.
“You’re mine, Elena,” he said into her mouth. “And you’re starting to want it.”
She closed her eyes. Shivered.
When she opened them again, he was still there.
Still holding her.
Still waiting. This time, however, she didn’t push him away.
"She stepped closer."
She pressed her forehead to his chest.
Just for a second.
Just to feel the steady beat of his heart against her cheek.
Then she stepped back.
“I need time,” she whispered.
He let her go.
But his eyes said he wasn't going far.
“Take all the time you need,” he said softly.
“But don’t think I’ll stop watching.”
She turned. She walked away with the dogs.
The weight of the bracelet felt heavier than ever before.
And between her legs, the ache that he left last night lingered.
Elena spent Saturday hiding.
Canceled her walks. Told Victoria the dogs needed a rest day. Claimed to have had a headache. Remained indoors with the curtains shut. Phone was switched to silent mode. Whiskers was perched on her lap as she gazed intently at the cream box on her dresser.
The bracelet was still inside. She had not opened it since Wednesday. But she could not stop thinking about how it felt on her skin; cool, certain, like a promise she was not even sure she wanted to make good on.
Mia sent two texts.
You alive? Date recap?
Hello? Don’t ghost me after jazz boy.
Elena typed back:
Long story. Call you tomorrow?
She did not mention when Damian held her against the wall.
The arching of her body toward him, rather than away from him, was not mentioned. “And didn’t mention how she’d almost—that is, almost—let him kiss her in the park the day before
She ordered food. Ate some. Pushed the food away.
Around 9 p.m., the buzzer sounded.
She froze.
Obviously, no one had arrived unexpectedly. Not Mia (she’d text first). Not a delivery (she hadn’t ordered anything else).
She edged forward to the intercom. Pressed the button.
“Yes
Silence. Then his voice, low, familiar, inevitable.
“Let me in, Elena.”
Her thumb hovered.
She could ignore him, pretend she wasn't home, call the super.
Instead, she buzzed him up.
The hallway light was flickering when he stepped out of the elevator. Black coat. No tie. Hair looked mussed, as if he’d run his hands through it coming in.
- Writer
