Mr. Halloway's Pet

Chapter Eighteen

I can't help but to stare at the screen with my jaw slack. That was the last thing I expected to hear.

I'm not sure if the overwhelming emotion bubbling from every pore in my body is one of happiness or anger. Either way, I'm dumbfounded. Speechless.

I'm glad he didn't tell me this in person because I'd probably have either passed out or gaslit my brain into thinking I'd heard wrong.

But with his words written on my screen, I can't prove that my senses have decieved me. Instead, I try to process what this means.

Love.

I remember in my drunken state how convinced I was that I loved him. It's such a complex word, I can't even begin to understand what it means. Perhaps to an extent, at least.

I love mom, and dad, but this is where the complexity comes in. That love is familiar and casual, not fiery and intense like what I feel for Mr. Halloway. I believe what I feel for him could be described as a mixture of lust, infatuation, and adoration, but love? That's a major leap and something my mind doesn't want to dissect.

However, the thought of him loving me is outlandish. Our relationship was so strained, how could he fully know me well enough to feel that deeply for me?

Though he'd known a side of me no one else ever has, I'm not entirely sure if that's a part even I know well enough to love.

I think of how easy it'd be to go back to what we had before. It's been difficult pretending his absence hasn't affected me. Trying to convince myself I shouldn't miss him is tiring.

I still feel the sting of his betrayal and remember why I'd been angry with him. The fact that he'd kept me pushed into a closet with the rest of his skeletons. How I'd shown up on his front door only to find that he and his wife was, indeed, in a romantic relationship.

He never pursued me in the way I wanted. His intentions remained sexual, and as a result, I suppressed my feelings for him and allowed myself to be a sexual object.

I realize now how I'd been used. In the moment, I hadn't cared so much. Now, I refuse to be a plaything.

With that thought in mind, I decide to begin typing,

"If you loved me, I wouldn't be a secret"
-Paige's iPhone

I blow out a shaky breath and press send. That was a dumb thing to say. A mini stroke of embarassment kicks me in the stomach and I'm sure my face is a bit flushed.

My palms are sweaty and rub uncomfortably against the back of my phone. It'll be textured and nasty later but I keep my deathgrip around it nonetheless.

It doesn't take long for the vibration sequence to go off, my heart racing as a result.

"You know that's out of my control. If I did make our relationship public, that would be it for us. We could never be together afterward. If we could please talk this over, we could make an arrangement fit for us both."
-Ethan

I try not to let this message give me hope. I can't seem to come to a conclusion in my head. Do I want to pursue said arrangement? Or do I want to allow myself time to heal before I jump into another illegal fling?

I read his text over and over again. No matter how many times my eyes scan it, the decision still isn't made.

I begin my reply,

"Where would you like to meet"
-Paige's iPhone

I reassure myself that this isn't a definite chance for him, but I'd be lying to myself if I said I didn't want to hear what he has to offer.