The Contract Next Door

The Knock

Sienna’s POV;

I quickly hide the receipt and turn around to face Ryan.

I remove the jacket from where it is hanging and give it to him.

He goes back into the room and I stand in the living hall with the note burning a hole in my palm.

I then fold it and put it in the drawer where all old receipts are kept.

There could be a perfectly reasonable explanation for it. Maybe it was a work dinner. Maybe he met up with a client. Maybe it wasn’t even his.

After last night, I’m tired of being the girl who looks for things to worry about. I don’t want to bring up the receipt which would cause another argument about trust.

So I intentionally decide to let it go.

Ryan comes back out of the room, smiling.

“I was thinking, should we go for a walk? It’s nice out.”

“Yeah sure, let me grab my bag.”

He doesn’t notice anything is wrong. And if he does, he doesn’t mention it.

I wake up the next morning to the smell of coffee.

For a second, I think I’m dreaming. Ryan isn’t beside me.

I hear some moving around in the kitchen and when I sit up, he comes through our bedroom door holding a tray.

Breakfast in bed.

The tray is filled with fluffy scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, warm pancakes topped with maple syrup. Strawberries cut exactly the way I like them and a glass of orange juice.

“What’s all this?” I ask, surprised.

He smiles. “I just wanted to spoil you a little.”

“Thank you.”

He sits on the edge of the bed and watches me eat.

He also happens to be unusually touchy that day. He kisses my forehead whenever he is close enough, his hand constantly finding my waist and hand resting on my thigh whenever we sit together.

He checks on me constantly.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure? You seem quieter than usual.”

“I’m fine. I promise.”

He keeps making me laugh too. Reminding me of some funny moments we’ve had together.

He tells me he loves me about three times before noon. Just casually.

And he isn’t acting suspicious. That’s the thing. If he was hiding something he’d probably be distant or cold. But no he is acting like the perfect boyfriend. The Ryan I fell in love with.

That makes it so much harder to hold onto my suspicions. How do I stay suspicious of some who treats me this way?

That afternoon, we are curled on the couch. His arm wrapped around me. The TV is on but none of us were really watching.

My mind drifted to things I don’t think about usually.

After my parents died, everything became a lesson to depend on myself and no one else. No one to run to when I had a bad day and just needed to be told everything would be okay.

I learned how to figure it out all of it by myself.

Maya was the only exception. She was the only family I had.

And then there was Ryan.

He was one of the first people aside Maya I genuinely let in. Even that took a long time to happen. He made me believe that I didn’t have to do everything by myself. He made me think I could actually rely on someone.

So when I thought about the possibility of him lying to me, it wasn’t just about cheating but about the fact that I actually let myself trust someone enough then wondering if I was stupid for doing that.

He must’ve felt me go quiet because he looks down at me.

“Hey. What are you thinking about?”

I look at him.

“Just us.”

He takes my hand.

“I really wish you’d trust me enough to know I’d never do something like that to you. He says quietly.

He sounds hurt.

He is right. There was no direct proof that he was cheating. I just assumed it from a couple of texts and a receipt I saw which could mean literally anything.

I hate assumptions and I am angry at myself for making them.

“I’m sorry, really sorry. I was out of line.”

He pulls me closer.

“You don’t have to be afraid with me.” He says.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

We hug for a while. My head just stays on his chest listening to his heartbeat.

That is the turning point.

I decide; I’m letting it go.

No more thinking about the messages.

No more wondering about the woman and who she is.

No more looking at Ryan’s phone.

And no more questioning him,

I need to trust him. He is my boyfriend after all.

Now, I do.

The rest of the day feels normal. We eat together. We joke. We watch a terrible reality show and argue about who would win. We’re just…us. And it felt like before.

Later that evening, I’m in the kitchen washing dishes when his phone rings.

It’s on the counter. He looks at the screen and his whole expression changes. He seems unsettled, uncomfortable.

He picks the call.

“Hello?” He says.

He stands up and walks away towards the balcony.

I don’t follow him. I had made a promise to myself to trust him.

He slides the balcony door and steps outside, closing it behind him.

The glass is thick and so I can barely hear him. But he’s talking in a low serious tone. Not the way he talks to clients and colleagues.

I can only hear murmurs.

Then I hear him clearly.

“I told you I would handle it.”

I pause, the glass of water I was about to drink, halfway to my mouth.

That sentence bothers me. It doesn’t sit right with me.

But I tell myself it’s probably work. He said he would handle it. People say that about work all the time.

I trust him.

A few minutes later, he comes back inside, shuts the door and locks it.

He looks at me completely normally and smiles.

“You okay?” he asks.

He walks over and kisses my forehead like he always does.

I want to ask who that was.

But I stop myself. I don’t want to be that girl again, not after today.

“Yeah.” I say, nodding. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, Work stuff, nothing very important.”

Everything seems normal again.

We sit back down on the couch. I pull the blanket over my legs. We sit in the living room both quiet and using our phones. The TV is still on we just paid no attention to it.

Then someone knocks on the front door. Repeatedly.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I turn towards the door.

Ryan freezes.

I look at him. “Are you expecting anyone?”

He doesn’t answer. His eyes are fixed on the door.

Another lock. Louder this time.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I get up.

Ryan stands up as well. Too fast.

His expression tells me something is very wrong.

And then,…

I open the door.

It’s a woman standing there.

Her eyes immediately find Ryan and she stares at him.

“Ryan…who is she?”

He doesn’t answer.

The woman standing in the doorway is crying with one hand resting on her stomach.

She looks at me.

“I think you deserve to know.”

Ryan is pale. His jaw is tight.