Wanted For Pleasure

Chapter Fifty-five: you don't know her like I do

"feeling like you've lost something but having no clue when or where you last had it. Then one day you realize what you lost is yourself."

Morgan Ann Bennett

I couldn't stay asleep. It could've been that it was so cold and Chris wasn't laying beside me. Yup, that's it. I absolutely depended on cuddling to fall asleep anymore, and he knew that.

I rolled out of the bed and shivered under the ceiling fan on it's highest setting, but I didn't turn it off because that's how Chris likes to sleep even in fall/winter.

The bedroom was messy, no, just lived in, with Chris's shoes everywhere and my stuff in suitcases and bags all over.

We had no plan in place as to my living situation. Chris suggested moving, but I didn't want him to leave his family behind. There was no way I could just leave this community either.
Besides, it's a nice place to raise a child, I think. That is, if I go through with this. I had been talking to some of the ladies at the clinic and there's still time. I'm nervous, scared, but I have to decide. Of course, there's pros and cons to everything. For starters, we don't even live together, and this unfinished industrial loft is not exactly baby-friendly. I remember having to baby proof it when Quinn spent the night.

One of Chris's drawers were open so I reached inside and grabbed a dark colored t-shirt to throw on. Next, a pair of his plain Hanes socks. I knew he'd complain once he saw me in his clothes because I always steal his clothes, but he doesn't even wear these socks or this shirt.

Anyway, I read the time on my dying phone at twenty perfect battery. It was 12:42am.

With a yawn, I ambled into the master bathroom with the sudden urge to pee. Cursed bladder.

Once I was relieved and cleaned up, I wandered into the kitchen for a snack. It's not too early to have cravings, right, because I wanted Nilla wafers, chocolate chip ice cream sandwiches, and pretzel sticks dipped in vanilla icing? At least they're normal cravings, not anything like Ritz crackers dipped in chocolate with strawberry sprinkles. I've heard stories.

I found a tub of caramel and some fresh green apple slices in a bowl in the fridge. Bingo.

"Babe!" I called out.

Crickets.

"Christopher!"

When I didn't get an answer, I shrugged and took my snack over to the couch where I made myself comfortable and turned on the newest Jeffrey Dahmer show. Chris was supposed to be binging the Netflix series with me so I felt bad starting episode three without him, but did anyway.

Only, ten minutes in, I got worried. No, not because of the show.

There was no sign of Chris in the apartment. I wondered where he could be at this time. Although, I recalled him saying he had something to do.

I panicked, rushing back to the room to grab my phone and first check his location.

"The parking garage?" I mumbled to myself.

*

One in the morning and my three-month-pregnant self was stomping out of the elevator, through the lobby, and across the parking garage to find Precious, A.K.A. Lenny, the Durango.

And there Chris was, in the driver seat, almost invisible behind the tinted windows.

I cupped my hands around my eyes and peeked inside. Chris didn't move or look at me, didn't react to me suddenly standing outside.