by Lexy Timms
He was so close to mentioning it to her, but then he got her breakup text. It made him even more worried about her health. He knew her flare-ups were more likely to happen when she was stressed, and he was certain that she was at least as stressed as he was about this. For an entire day, he wracked his brain in a desperate attempt to conjure up a reply. It shouldn’t be about the cameras, that much he was sure. The situation was very fragile, and telling her that he could see three out of four sides of her house at any given moment probably wouldn’t be what she wanted to hear. Neither would asking her to brainstorm with him about ways to track her flare-ups.
So he flew back, hopefully to resolve the breakup, get back together, have a wild night or two in bed, and resume the relationship as normal.
Only one of those happened, and the short time before he left wasn’t a good sign for the future of their relationship.
He didn’t talk to anyone the whole way back to Los Angeles. The only time he used his voice was when he ordered a large coffee with a shot of hazelnut syrup before boarding the plane. As he watched the barista shoot the syrup from the glass bottle into his thermos, he felt his whole body droop—and not from tiredness. Physically, he felt pretty good. Lillian taking him by surprise in the middle of his yard work had revived him from the weeks of sexual deprivation. She was small, and looked the opposite of someone who would take charge, but the way she made the first move and essentially commanded him to stop what he was doing and pay attention to her was a huge turn-on. How a dainty flower like her could have that kind of power over him, a beast with muscles of steel, was lost for logic. All he knew was that he loved it.
But then she had woken up as he was packing the last of his things, and the harsh words had mentally drained him more than he would have ever anticipated. It was as far from how he wanted the weekend to end as possible.
In retrospect, he probably should have let her know he was leaving. His plan of quietly going to the airport while she was sleeping didn’t exactly happen. But that probably wouldn’t have gone very well either. He just didn’t want to ruin their short time together. Why couldn’t they have started romping around as soon as he got back? Why did it have to happen in the hours before he had to leave again?
There were too many questions in his head, and his brain shut down at the first thought of how to sort them all out. He had been enjoying Los Angeles so much up until the point of the breakup text. Hours and hours of researching the best cameras for his house and trying to come up with a way to make sure she was fine in her house all alone were wasted.
Now it was just him and his house, and any time he checked the cameras was either going to be in response to a notification of something suspicious going on, or just to see how unruly his yard looked.
No one could ever make my yard as picturesque as I can, he thought, half sadly and half amazed that the word “picturesque” had a place in his mind somewhere. Maybe spending time with Lillian and her expansive collection of books had made him smarter in some ways.
It had been a few days since he had dared to check his house cameras. There had been no motivation. Not even a single ping from his phone about movement around there.
Home—it didn’t feel much like home now that he wasn’t there, and since Lillian was out of the picture for the foreseeable future. Even his life in this gorgeous, sunny city felt stagnant. Workouts felt robotic. Luckily Janine hadn’t commented that anything was different. She wasn’t the type to keep these things to herself. Sometimes it seemed like she analyzed every movement he made and commented on his performance and attitude afterward.
Today was Wednesday. Technically, it was almost Thursday because it was 11 pm. Cayden sighed. Janine had gone to the city with her husband for a night of networking with other high-profile people over drinks at some swanky rooftop bar. At their quick workout earlier in the afternoon she couldn’t stop talking about it, even while she was panting from her leg lifts and squats. Cayden stayed quiet, pretending he was listening when really his mind was somewhere far away. He only spoke when she asked a question, or to introduce her to the next set.
He looked out the window of his loft. The moon was too far up to see unless he leaned over and poked his head out the window. Sparse clouds were rushing past the moon, blocking its light then making way for it again.
Kind of like my history with women. He scowled and lay on his stomach, hanging halfway off the bed. Every time I get close to one and start getting comfortable, I get screwed over. Some shit happens, and I can never make it work.
He lay there for a while, blank-minded. He didn’t feel like doing anything, even though he had emails to respond to and probably a slew of text messages as well. The message tone beeped on his phone as he stared at the floor. He ignored it. At least people here were including him in their plans. He made friends quickly. He knew exactly why: because he was hot. He knew it and he knew everyone else knew it. It was part of his job, anyway, so he took it as a sign he was doing something right.
At least that’s one thing I’m doing right.
The thought crossed his mind to check his cameras. Just to see what was happening. At least he could see his flowers. His yard lamp should be on right now, and even the silhouette would be better than nothing. Reaching for his phone, he opened the app and wished he had some plants to tend to here in Los Angeles.
I didn’t expect that I would want to go home this badly. He had been gone for weeks. It was already much longer than Janine’s estimated timeframe in the beginning. He didn’t want to think about how to approach her about how much longer she wanted him to stay.
Seeing his driveway on the small screen of his phone brought a sense of relief. The hedges lining the length of it were in pretty good shape, but not as good as they would be if he were home right now. He stared at the screen, taking everything in. How had this house that he had lived in for less than a year become such an anchor for him?
Probably because she’s there. It was true. He hadn’t really felt any sense of attachment there until he started getting to know Lillian. He rubbed the corner of his eye. Move on, Cayden. She said she wanted you to. She said she was going to.
He switched to the next camera that had a full view of the front yard. Trying to be positive, he told himself that everything looked all right. Nothing was overgrown, at least. Not like Lillian’s yard. Why in the hell she wanted her yard to look like a jungle, he had no idea. It always irritated him.
His eye caught something in the corner of the screen, out by the road. In the light he couldn’t tell what it was. Curious, he switched to the last camera that had a view of the side yard and part of Lillian’s yard.
There, in full view, was a car parked in between her house and his. And it wasn’t her car.
Who would be over there? Lillian didn’t have many friends, and she liked it that way. She didn’t make any effort to go out and meet new people, so it couldn’t be anyone new. The only person he had ever seen at her house was—
He stopped, and he felt his heart take a single hard thud before it froze for just a moment. That was Andrew’s car.
As he realized it his brain put all the pieces together, and suddenly the shape of the car there in the dark was as clear as day. Andrew had come to stay at Lillian’s house a few months ago when he was in town on business. It was the first time they had seen each other in years since, his sister Amelia’s death. They had a grand time catching up, but Cayden sensed that something was up the minute Andrew walked in the house.
I knew it, he fumed, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen. I knew he would make his move as soon as I was out of the picture. His brain started to fly to the extremes. Maybe Andrew had been subtly suggesting Lillian break it off. That way it wasn’t technically cheating. That must have been what happened. It had to be. Why else would Andrew be over at her house? The timing was too perfect.
Cayden wondered how long Andrew had been there. Perhaps since right after he left. Lillian probably called him s
obbing, since he was the only person she was close to besides Cayden—when they were still together, that is. Andrew probably drove over right then to be with her.
He fluctuated between anger and sorrow, wondering how he would ever be able to return home when that was going on next door. Los Angeles was great but he wasn’t sure he wanted to move here permanently, even as much as Janine would love that. She was already spreading the word about him; he had accepted a couple of new clients just to help him kill time. He was getting calls every day about meeting more potential ones, but he kept turning them down because he had set his eyes on one thing: returning home to be with Lillian. And he couldn’t establish himself here too much if he wanted to go somewhere else as soon as possible.
He hated the thought of her getting together with Andrew, but it made sense why she broke up with him so suddenly and why she was so adamant they both move on. Something just didn’t quite click about this to him, though. Lillian wasn’t the type to do this.
That’s what I said about the others, too, he reminded himself, and put the phone down a little too hard. Scooping it back up, he scrutinized the screen for any sign of cracks. There were none. He sighed and put it back down, letting himself crash back down on the bed.
“I can’t believe it,” he muttered to the ceiling, staring at it and half-wishing there was a TV screen up there to distract him. He had never been so upset about a breakup before; he couldn’t figure out why he was thinking about it so much. Maybe it was the suddenness of it. He couldn’t tell.
At last he got up to get a glass of water and check his phone. Now would be a good time to respond to all those messages that had been building up over the last few hours. Act normal, he told himself, opening the text at the top. Nothing is wrong, as far as anyone else knows.
The message was from one of the extra clients he had taken on. Her name was Katharina, and she was the type of physically gorgeous that had made her an immediate celebrity on social media. When he had met her last week, the day before the breakup, he noted how beautiful she was but didn’t think any further of it.
Handsome, the message read, I’ve got nothing to do tomorrow. What are your plans?
Cayden heard her accent in his head as he read it. It was so thick that it was nearly impossible to forget. He couldn’t remember where she was from originally, but he wondered if all the women there looked like she did. When he tried to picture anyone else, Lillian appeared in his mind. His miserable mood resurfaced.
I don’t want to do anything, he thought in reply. I especially don’t want to see another woman. The idea of it put him in a worse mood, because when he saw himself with someone else he saw Lillian with Andrew. And he knew that it shouldn’t be Andrew next to her. It should be him.
He slammed his fist against the wall, suddenly feeling very hot. Pressure built up inside and he heard a yell rip through his throat. Somewhere in the back of his mind he told himself it was okay, since Janine and her husband weren’t home. The space was all his for now.
Stomping across the room he flung the window open wider and leaned before it, pressing his forearms on either side. His heart pounded, his blood pumped, and after a moment he let out another groan. This one didn’t sound so angry.
I just want to fix it, he admitted. I just want to fix this. I don’t want it to be this way.
Quietly, he heard Lillian’s voice reading the text she had sent. We should both see other people. I think it will help put things in perspective.
“Yeah,” he grunted, “you saying this weekend was a mistake also put some things in perspective.”
The room felt small and tight. He needed to get out. Snatching his phone he walked out, skipping down the stairs two at a time until he was on the sidewalk. A hint of wind cooled off his skin.
We should both see other people. I think it will help put things in perspective.
He didn’t want to hear it again, but it wouldn’t stop. Finally, when he had walked for a few minutes, he made a decision.
Maybe I should go with Katharina. Hesitantly, he opened her message again and stared at it. At least it will be a distraction.
Trying to ignore the fact that it still felt wrong to be agreeing to go out with another woman, he typed a response. I’m also doing nothing tomorrow.
Sending the message strangely made him feel a bit better. He looked around at where he stood, at the neighborhood he hadn’t really explored yet, but felt disconnected. He turned back.
The phone buzzed. It was her.
We can find some way to pass the time together. Join me for dinner. The Japanese restaurant near my gym.
It didn’t sound like much of a question, and he didn’t have the energy to fabricate some excuse. See you then, he replied, and slipped his phone back into his pocket. Something excited him about tomorrow, somewhere between the pain of losing Lillian and the uncertainty of the future.
I guess I’ll just make the best of it, he thought, and sent his answer: See you there.
“POSE!”
Cayden rolled his eyes and leaned against the railing of the wooden bridge. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Katharina threw him a cheeky smirk. She had done that a lot tonight. “Pose.”
“Have mercy on me!” Cayden pretended to faint.
“I have none of this ‘mercy’ you speak of. Now, pose.” She raised her phone and gave a little giggle, and Cayden relented. Katharina never seemed to run out of energy. She took photos of everything, and he couldn’t figure out what she did with them all. He raised an eyebrow at her and heard the shutter sound.
Katharina rotated the phone and looked at the picture, zooming in on it. “It looks good. This one is nice.” She touched his upper arm with one of her expensive, long, fake nails. “You could be a model.”
“Not my thing.” Cayden winked and tilted his head forward. “Let’s keep walking. Put your phone up.”
“This is my brand!” Katharina laughed; it sounded like a tiny bell ringing. Cayden felt something light on his arm and looked down to see she had wrapped her hand around his bicep. “Think of it as a second job for me. A way to stay relevant and keep my followers engaged.”
“You don’t wish you could have any privacy?”
She flashed her perfectly straight teeth; he felt the tips of her nails scratching his skin softly. “I do have privacy. In the bedroom.”
Oh, damn. His blood pulsed hard through his body. Katharina busied herself with her phone, editing and posting the photos they had taken so far that evening. Cayden didn’t know where they were being posted or who would see them, and the bedroom comment stole his attention enough that he didn’t care.
It’s wrong, it’s wrong! I shouldn’t be here! In his heart he was still with Lillian, but his head knew it wasn’t true. It’s not wrong, he told himself, and didn’t move his arm away from Katharina’s. She said she wanted you to see other people. That’s what you’re doing. Sort of.
“Here we are,” she said abruptly, interrupting his conscience. She took him by the hand and pulled him towards the house. “Welcome home.”
It was too dark to see anything about the house, but they had walked onto a narrow, paved pathway lit by lamps with candles inside. Cayden felt like he was in a scene from a movie. Usually scenes like this included kissing. He didn’t think he wanted to do it right now.
He felt slightly uncomfortable, but didn’t show it. Continuing with his usual swagger, he asked the only question that came to his mind. “How long have you lived here?”
“About three months.” She gave him a smile that looked partly embarrassed. “You must promise you won’t judge me. Inside is a mess.”
“It can’t be that bad.” Cayden thought about when he moved into his house. It was a wreck for months, too.
“No,” Katharina’s face grew solemn. “It’s actually really bad. I’m clean, but I’m not organized. I never invite people over unless I hire someone to come shove everything into a closet or the spare room.”
&
nbsp; He smiled. “Nah, it can’t be that bad. You’ve just moved in, anyway.”
“Let’s go in this door,” she suggested, cutting him off. “This door’s not so messy.”
She must really be self-conscious about her moving mess, he thought, watching her unlock the door and flick a switch inside. A stairway led up to the next level of the house. Boxes, some of them tipped over with the contents spilling out, lined both sides of the staircase, leaving only a foot’s width of space in the middle for walking.
“Excuse me,” Katharina murmured, taking the first step up. “Come on; it’s better up here.”
Cayden closed the door behind him and carefully made his way upstairs. Katharina had already turned the lights on; they were warm-tinted and gave the whole open space a relaxed feel.
“This is nice,” he said, turning around to see the huge room. The kitchen was an open concept, styled perfectly to fit with the décor of the living room and dining space. A sliding glass door opened to a patio that wrapped around two sides of the house.
“I love it,” she beamed, but he could tell she was blushing at all the boxes stacked on top of each other. One sofa was still wrapped in plastic, a bookcase was standing in the middle of the room, and piles of fancy dishes were sitting in the sink. “I wanted to unpack everything myself instead of hiring someone to help me do it.”
