“So, how’s Skylar doing?” I hesitantly ask as we take our lunch in the break room. He’s been pretty quiet about it lately, so I know it can be a sensitive issue sometimes.
“Good. We’ve been FaceTiming every night and I’ll be driving up there this weekend,” he says with little expression on his face. “Could deal without the drama, but it’s better than it has been, at least.”
“Well, that’s good news,” I say, waiting to see if he’ll elaborate further, but when I realize that he isn’t, I don’t press him on it. He’s private about his personal life, and I never felt right digging for more. I figure if he wants me to know and feels like talking about it, he’ll open up when he’s ready.
“How’s Courtney doing with everything? Still shaken up?”
I exhale. “Yeah, you could say that. She nearly murdered me with a pair of dull scissors this morning when I came in. She’s paranoid.”
“Can’t say that I blame her. I’m sure Courtney can hold her own, but Mia is another level of crazy.”
I shake my head, wishing I’d seen this side of Mia from the beginning. “I know. She’s carrying around mace like it’s an accessory.”
“Jesus,” he mutters.
“Doesn’t help I’m not home at night when she gets off work,” I admit, feeling guilty. “Mia showed up at the house today.”
He jerks his head toward me, his features tight. “Did you call it in?”
“Was just about to if she didn’t leave and once she saw I wasn’t playing around, she finally did. However, I have a feeling that restraining order isn’t going to do shit to keep her away.”
“We need proof,” he states. “Proof she was involved so you guys can press charges.”
I nod in agreement. “I just wish I understood her motive. I know she wants to get back together, but how can she even think I’d want her back at this point? Is she just messing with us to get revenge, or does she truly think I’ll leave Courtney and go back to her?”
As we sit and eat our food, I ponder that exact thought. Even if I wasn’t with Courtney and was single, I’d never take her back again—too many lessons learned. But is she doing this just for the thrill or to seek revenge in hopes Courtney will actually be the one to leave me? I wouldn’t put any of those reasons past Mia, but now that I’m really thinking about it, would Courtney think my baggage is too much for her and leave?
Logan finishes his food before I do and heads back to his office. I decide to call Courtney and make sure she’s doing all right.
“Drew?” she says before I can even speak. “Oh my God.”
“Court, what’s wrong?” I immediately panic, standing up and grabbing my stuff off the table. “Are you okay?”
I can hear her rapid breathing through the phone and the urge to go to her and leave work overtakes me.
“I-I think Mia was here,” she finally spits out, and I feel my heart fall into my stomach. I hadn’t told her yet because I didn’t want to do it over the phone. “There was a letter in the mailbox with just my name on it. No stamp or return address, but I recognized her handwriting from the note she left in the hotel room.”
Fuck, that bitch. I should’ve known she was up to something else.
“Sweetheart, lock the doors and windows and wait for me. I’m leaving work early.”
“I’ve already locked, bolted, glued everything shut!” she shouts. “I hate that she puts this fear in me, Drew. I-I’m so tired of feeling this way. Feeling paranoid that she’s going to be there anytime I turn around. I just…”
She’s starting to unravel and I need to calm her before she completely does.
“Baby, listen to me,” I say calmly, hoping she’ll focus on the sound of my voice. “I’m coming home. Stay put, okay? I’ll be right there.”
I warned you. Prepare yourself. I’m watching.
What in the actual fuck?
I immediately look around; paranoid she’s watching me in the house right this minute. Part of me wishes she’d just show her ugly face so I can show her exactly how prepared I am to kick her ass; however, the other part fears she’d actually come with some kind of weapon.
I set the envelope and note back down on the table and snap a picture of it. If it’s proof we need, I’m not taking any chances of this going missing.
Feeling uneasy, I do a lap around the house, double-checking that every window and door is locked, looking inside closets and under beds, and even the mudroom.
Just as I’m closing the door, a loud noise from the bathroom makes my stomach leap into my throat. Oh my God. She’s in the fucking house.
I should’ve known that bitch would break her order and come after me when she knew Drew wouldn’t be home. I panic even more as I realize I left my phone on the table. Tiptoeing back to the dining room, I grab it as quietly as I can. My heart is beating so hard; I can barely keep up with my heavy breathing.