Safer Alone (The Safer Duet #1)

by Amy Rose

  He is staring right back at me, a small smile across his face.

  “We should probably get out of bed and get ready. I need to take you to the airport in an hour.”

  I note that he makes no move to get out of the bed himself, even after making his statement. Knowing that I would have to be the one to make the move, I nod in response and roll over, pulling back the covers. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and sit for a moment, before turning my head back to face him once more, smiling at the sight of him lying there, in the bed I was just occupying, before standing up and making my way to the bathroom.

  Once in the safety of the bathroom I lock the door. Jumping up and down a couple of times. The excitement building up inside of me is a wonderful feeling. I wander across to the shower and turn on the taps. I lift my nightgown over my head and drop it on the floor in front of the vanity before I then slip my panties off and stepping into the glass enclosure.

  The shower is most welcome. The hot steam relaxing my muscles and warming my body all the way through. It also seems to purge my body of the memory of the horrid nightmare I endured last night. One that Elliot no doubt witnessed. He was kind enough not to ask me any questions when he held me in his arms. He will, however, be wondering what made me so upset. Will he ask me? Should I tell him?

  Did I say anything out loud that he was thinking about? What if I called out his name? I wrap my arms around myself, taking comfort in the fact that he had indeed held me last night. He had stayed with me and comforted me, he hadn’t left the guest house. Maybe I hadn’t said anything?

  I push all thoughts of Dylan from my mind and instead think of Elliot. The way he looks this morning, sleepy eyes, bed hair and all. He is everything I have ever hoped to find in a man, and he had told me that he wants to be with me. To find a way to make it all work even with the distance.

  That distance was about to make itself well known later this afternoon when I was back in Nashville, while he is here in New York. I understand at that moment that I will miss him, and that confirms that my feelings for him are real and intense, more so than I would have liked to admit.

  I don’t want to leave his side and yet I had to. I must, for two weeks anyway. Then I would be back in his arms, as long as these two weeks didn’t give him the space he needed to reassess his feelings and meet someone else.

  I turn off the shower and step out and dry myself. I then grab the fluffy bathrobe and wrap it around my body, tying it in a bow around my middle. In my rush to get into the shower I realize that I didn’t bring a change of clothes in with me. Maybe he has already gone back to the main house to shower and get ready himself. He won’t still be in bed. I’ll just duck out and get what I need and get on with it. So I stand in the bathroom with my hand on the door handle preparing myself to wander out into the bedroom. At least I am covered.

  I will walk out, grab my clothes and come straight back into the bathroom. It is such a simple thing to do. So why am I not moving? Why can I not turn the door handle? I close my eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths and before I can chicken out, I turn the handle, pulling the door open.

  ~ Chapter Twenty-Nine ~

  I open the door ever so slightly and peek out into the room trying to see if Elliot is indeed still here. I keep opening the door slowly until it is fully open and walk toward my suitcase, glancing at the bed. He isn’t here. I let out a sigh of relief. I decide on jeans, a lightweight black sweater, and my black scarf that I always carry with me. Just as I pluck my lace underwear out of the case I hear someone clear their throat behind me. I jump, dropping everything, my lavender boy legs and matching bra landing on top.

  I turn around, and Elliot is standing there dressed and staring at me. Hair standing up in several different directions. With laughter in his eyes, it creeps down his face until his smile is a grin and then a soft chuckle.

  “Hey sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Let me help you with that.”

  I bend down and grab everything in my arms before he can reach me. I don’t need him looking at my undergarments.

  “It’s fine. I’ve got it.”

  I turn on my heel and high-tail it to the bathroom, closing the door a little too firmly behind me. I take a moment and lean against the door. That was too darn close.

  I have never been so thankful for a bathrobe. If I had been just wearing a towel it would have fallen along with all of my clothing. Steadying myself, I quickly get dressed, applying a small amount of foundation. I set it with my powder compact, adding some color to my cheeks with bronzer, finishing off with several coats of black mascara. Next I unsnag my hair from the messy bun it is currently in before running a brush through my uncooperative mop, settling on a plain side plait for the trip. I collect all of my personal items and deposit them into my already open toiletry bag and head back out to face the man who could have seen me naked. If it weren’t for that bathrobe.

  He is sitting on the edge of the freshly made bed staring at something on the screen of his cell phone when I come out of the bathroom, his face set in a calm expression. Hearing me approach, he looks up.

  “Hey. Are you all ready to push off?”

  “Almost. I’ve just got to pop a few things in my bag and then I’m good to go.”

  I walk past him and deposit my nightgown and personal items into the bag and zip it closed, locking the padlock through the zipper holes, once complete.

  I lift my bag from its position and stand it up with the extendable handle pulled the whole way out. I smile at Elliot as he walks towards me. He takes my bag from me and walks ahead, out of the house and to the waiting SUV. Once my bag and both of us are comfortably inside, Elliot engages the engine and begins the drive to the airport.

  The drive is mostly in silence. I’m thankful that he is driving me himself this morning, no sight of Price anywhere. I wonder why he is only his chauffeur sometimes? Maybe he is just on call when Elliot needs him. Speaking of Elliot, he hasn’t asked one single question about my nightmare last night, not even one passing comment. I should be happy, but instead several other thoughts float through my mind;

  1. I wonder why he doesn’t care, or;

  2. I said Dylan’s name, or;

  3. He thinks I’m crazy

  I sit in my seat toying with the hem of my shirt, wondering if I should say anything, if he would even care. I don’t need to tell him everything. Maybe I could make something up, that the nightmare was something completely fabricated, we were being attacked by a bear. I can’t do that though, I’m not a liar. If he asks me, I’ll be honest. I’ll tell him what the nightmare was about.

  The decision is made for me, it seems as though Elliot has indeed been thinking about it. He broaches the subject first.

  “So you said the name Dylan in your sleep last night. Just before you woke up.”

  I look up from my hands and stare at him.

  “Who is he?”

  His voice sounds almost casual, “almost” being the operative word. Underneath I can hear something else, an underlying of jealousy, hurt, anger?

  “Dylan is my ex,” I pause. Do I tell him we were engaged?

  “And you were dreaming about him while sharing a bed with me?”

  The anger is unmistakable in his voice now.

  I want to tell him that it’s none of his damn business and to get nicked. Then again, he has a point. I thought the same thing last night. I can’t lie to him; instead it’s pouring out my mouth directly from heart before I can stop myself.

  “I often have nightmares that involve him. He was physically abusive and the nightmares generally reflect things that happened while we were together.”

  Good one Angela. Now he is going to run for the hills. He doesn’t need someone with baggage, not this kind anyway.

  “I’m sorry, baby.”

  His voice no longer angry. It is soft, laced with concern. He reaches out his hand seeking mine, I offer mine up and he takes it and squeezes it gently. Baby? He just called me baby. He must
n’t be too angry, then.

  “When I woke last night to your screams, I didn’t know what to think. You were speaking another man’s name, but at the same time you were shaking and crying, too, and I knew that I had to make sure that you knew you were safe.”

  I feel myself getting emotional, you know that feeling you have that starts in the pit of your stomach, then starts to make its way up your throat and before you know it an emotional sound escapes your throat and tears fall from your eyes and you’re crying? That’s what I am feeling right now. I clear my throat in an attempt to halt the progress in its tracks while it continues climbing up my throat and digging my fingernails into the palm of my hand in an effort to try to keep the tears at bay.

  “You have no reason to be sorry, I have them most nights. I have slept alone for close to four years, so it doesn’t normally affect anyone but me. It’s the past, one I hate talking about. So can you please just forget about it?”

  I look out the front window not wanting to look at the man beside me, one that I have developed feelings for, the one who no doubt is going to say “see you later” at the airport. I’m not going to let him hurt me, I decide to get in there first.

  “You don’t need to hang out with a chick with as much baggage as I carry around with me. Let’s just get to the airport and say goodbye, shall we?”

  My voice cracks on the final word and I do my best to cover it up with a cough. It doesn’t work.

  Elliot pulls the car over to the shoulder and shifts the gear to park. I sneak a sideways glance at him. Sitting there with both hands on the wheel, he is looking down at his legs.

  “Have I given you any reason to think that I don’t want to hang out with you, Angela?”

  I don’t move. I don’t say a word.

  “Damn it.” He hits the steering wheel, hard, I jerk up, looking at him.

  “We all have baggage. Trust me, I have a fair bit of my own.”

  His voice is so soft in comparison to his outburst only a moment ago.

  “It’s never going to work Elliot, we live in different states, we run in different circles…”

  He stops me before I can go any further.

  “I don’t care about any of that, I want to at least give this a try, Angela. Don’t you?”

  In that moment looking into his eyes, I forget about my reservations and just see the man sitting next to me. The man who has just told me he has baggage of his own. The man telling me he wants to try, with me.

  “Okay,” is all I can manage to say.

  “Okay,” he repeats back.

  He starts the engine again and after checking we are clear pulls back out onto the road, taking us the rest of the way to the airport. We maintain a light chatter, nothing of importance or consequence, the weather, the music on the radio, and all too soon Elliot is pulling us into a short-term parking lot. Our time together is coming to an end. All too soon.

  We both hop out of the car, the thud of the doors closing, only two of many around us. I walk to the back of the car. Elliot is already there, pulling my two bags out for me. I take my oversized handbag, while he carries my check-in luggage.

  Once inside, Elliot hands me my boarding pass. I look at my watch and see that I’m due to board in a quarter of an hour.

  “Thank you for this weekend.” It’s the safest thing I can manage to say.

  “I had a great time,” he replies.

  “I did too.” I smile up at him. His blond hair now completely dry and out of control, he runs his hand through it self-consciously, seeing that I’m staring at him.

  “It’s always messy,” he says by way of explanation.

  “I like it,” I respond honestly. It makes him look more like the rest of us. Not at all like the untouchable CEO of a multimillion dollar company.

  A lady’s voice booms over the PA system above us, advising my flight is ready for boarding.

  “That’s me. I guess I should be going.”

  Before I can say anything else, his lips are on mine, kissing me slowly, pouring his emotions into this connection. His arms enveloping my waist, pulling me closer to him and I can’t help but reciprocate. I reach out and place my hand on his chest and kiss him back. In this moment right here it feels so right. It feels like the distance will be nothing to worry about.

  We pull apart when the second announcement for my flight sounds through the airport.

  “Do me a favor and let me know when you get home?” he asks.

  I nod. “I can do that. Goodbye, Elliot.”

  I turn to leave, his hand catches me before I can take a step. I look back into his face.

  “I’ll see you again soon, baby” and with that, he kisses me once more on the lips, lasting only a couple of seconds before breaking it.

  I begin the walk towards the correct gate, not daring to look back just in case I burst into tears. I see a postcard stand just ahead. I select one with the Statue of Liberty front and center and pay the young guy with a $1.00 bill which he deposits into his fanny pack. I continue on my way, concentrating on getting to the plane. The lady behind the counter takes my boarding pass and shows me to my seat, a spot in first class. I pluck my phone out of my handbag before stowing my luggage in the overhead compartment. Once I’m seated, I tap out a quick message:

  <: Thank you. I can’t believe you bought me another ticket in first class :)

  I take a quick selfie and attach it before hitting send. An older lady smelling of Red Door sits next to me, and we exchange a polite hello. I look back at my phone to switch it to airplane mode when a text appears on the screen. I open it right away.

  <: You’re welcome, baby. Let me know when you get home.

  As I finish reading the message, a second one comes through showing underneath:

  <: Gosh you’re beautiful. I’m already missing you.

  He must have received the photo. The flight attendant chooses this moment to come around, and sees me with my phone.

  “You will need to turn that off now, please, ma’am.”

  I nod. “Was just switching it to airplane mode” I reply, smiling. She smiles back and continues down the aisle.

  Just before turning it off, I send a quick reply:

  <: Me too x

  As soon as the message is sent I turn my phone onto airplane mode and keep a hold of it in my hands. I look out the window and a smile spreads across my face. He misses me already, and I miss him. How on earth am I going to get through these next two weeks without him? With keeping busy at work, that’s how, and then before I know it he will be with me again. We will go to the Christmas party together, and then I will go back with him to New York and we will spend Christmas together.

  Speaking of Christmas, what on earth should I buy him for Christmas? Besides chatting about music, he didn’t provide any clues. I can make him something. It will be less expensive and more personal. It hits me: a photo frame, I’ve made a couple of them before, a plain timber frame and some paint. I’ll make him something.

  The lady beside me doesn’t try to make conversation for which I am thankful, rather enjoying the memories of the weekend keeping me company, from the dinner where he confessed to also be waiting for marriage, the drive through town, picnic on his property, dinner with his parents and last night, spending the night together. I am falling hard for Elliot. It scares me and yet at the same time so much happiness is filling me up.

  The pilot announcing our descent into Nashville brings me back into the here and now. I feel the all too familiar unsettled feeling in my stomach, I place my phone in between my legs, squeezing them together to prevent it from falling. I lean forward and pluck the sick bag from the pouch on the back of the seat in front of me.

  “You’re not going to be sick are you, dear?”

  I turn my head to my neighbor “Yes, quite possibly I am.”

  She shakes her head and looks into the aisle of the plane, not wanting to look at me. I turn my head, facing the window. I can see the spread of buildings underne
ath me. I’m almost home, I only have to hold out for a short time. I count my long deep breaths, one, two, three, four, five. The feeling in my stomach isn’t getting worse, I smile a tiny smile, I’m proud of myself, not giving in to this sick feeling. I feel the bump of the plane, the wheels making contact with the tarmac.

  “Thank God,” I voice.

  I hear the lady next to me make an unintelligible noise.

  When the plane finally comes to a complete stop, I switch my phone back on and see the message icon on the screen. I open the program to find a message from Elliot:

  <: I’m glad the feeling is mutual.

  The message had been sent moments after my own. Smiling at the screen, I compile a reply:

  <: Just landed, safe and sound.

  The lady beside me stands up and makes her way to the exit, I follow suit. Standing up I retrieve my bag from the overhead locker and wander off the plane. I make my way through the tunnel finally coming to the baggage claim. I take a position toward the end of the conveyor belt where there was a large space. About fifteen minutes later the bags start coming along. I notice mine is the third one. I wait till it’s almost right in front of me and pick it up just before it goes past me.

  I wander out to the taxi rank. As I walk toward one of the free cabs, a group of people pass me taking all of the waiting cars. Slightly annoyed, I wait for the next one to arrive; thankfully it doesn’t take too long. The ride home is pretty short, and I pay the cabbie before hopping out and starting up the staircases toward my unit.

  I slip my key into the lock and wander straight in, dropping my bags on the floor. I close and lock the door behind me before wandering into the kitchen and seeing the small wrapped box on the kitchen counter. A simple black paper with a white fabric ribbon fastened around it. I pull the bow which falls apart, I then run my finger underneath a free part of paper and pull it to open. It tears. Inside I see a red double decker bus. A huge smile spreads across my face. Elliot’s souvenir he brought me back from London.

  I pick up my phone and send a quick message: