Don't Explain

one.

The fluorescent lights of the grocery store buzzed overhead as I reached for a carton of organic strawberries, their bright red color popping against the pale shelves. My arm ached from holding the basket for too long, so I shifted it from one arm to the other. Just then, my champagne gold Motorola Razr vibrated in my pocket, the familiar hum rippling through the fabric.

I fished it out, flipping it open in one smooth, practiced motion. Prince's name glowed on the tiny screen, and I felt that familiar flutter in my chest, the one that always hit me when I saw his name.

"Hey," I answered, trying to keep my voice steady. But there was always a subtle tremor I couldn't hide. As I spoke, I absentmindedly twirled a strand of hair around my finger, holding the phone between my ear and shoulder while I continued to walk down the aisle.

"Where are you, darling?" His voice flowed through the receiver like silk, with a hint of that teasing drawl, as though he were both amused and bored at the same time.

"I'm at the store, grabbing a few things before I head over," I said, glancing down at my basket. A bouquet of flowers, half a papaya, some perfectly ripe avocados, and a box of Italian cookies–the ones he loved. Nothing extravagant, but enough. "You need anything?"

There was a pause, long enough to make me think he was distracted by something else, something far removed from me. He had a way of drifting off, pulling away even while we were on the phone, like he was thinking about some distant, unspoken thought. But just as quickly, he snapped back, as if he'd remembered who he was talking to.

"Just you," he said in that smooth, deliberate tone of his. The words lingered, sinking in slowly. "Don't keep me waiting."

My pulse quickened at his words, but I kept my cool. "I'll be there in an hour," I replied casually, glancing at the time.

"Good," he said, and the line clicked off. No goodbye. He never said goodbye.

I slipped the phone back into my pocket and took a deep breath. There was always something magnetic about the way he spoke, like he knew exactly how to pull me in, like he could snap his fingers and have me at his side in an instant. It wasn't just the words–it was the way he said them, the control he wielded with such effortless charm.

But it wasn't only his charm that kept me coming back. It was the simplicity of what we had–no strings attached, no complicated emotions. Just... this. And for now, that was enough.

I headed toward the checkout, my mind already wandering to the evening ahead. I had an hour to kill, but part of me wondered if I should take my time. Make him wait a little. Just long enough to keep things interesting.

As I stood in line at the checkout, the rhythmic beeping of the scanner felt distant, drowned out by my own thoughts. My fingers lightly drummed on the handle of the basket as I replayed the call in my mind. His voice always had that effect on me–pulling me in with a mix of desire and curiosity, like there was always something more beneath the surface that I was never quite allowed to touch. But that was Prince–always just a little out of reach.

The cashier's voice cut through the haze. "Ma'am? Is that all for you?"

I blinked, realizing I'd been staring at the cart of gum and tabloids near the register. I smiled politely and nodded. "Yeah, that's it."

As I swiped my card, the weight of anticipation settled over me. There was something about tonight–something unsaid in the way he spoke. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I knew him well enough to sense when he was in one of his moods.

The thought both excited and unnerved me.

I stuffed the receipt into my pocket and grabbed my bags, making my way to the exit. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the parking lot. I tossed the groceries into the passenger seat of my car and slid into the driver's seat, the leather cool against my legs. For a moment, I just sat there, hands resting on the steering wheel, staring at the deepening sky.