Only You

Chapter Eleven

Fallon
The next morning, I wake up in my bed. I don't remember walking up here though... I shrug and get up because it's 6am and I need to begin my morning routine. I brush my teeth, shower, then get dressed. Nothing happened yesterday. Michael remained mostly quiet as we watched the movies. Imani was the most animated one just laughing and shouting at her favorite parts.

After getting Imani to school, I go to Michael's in-home gym to exercise. This is one of the routines I never gave up after leaving Donnell. I hop on the treadmill after stretching and hit the "Brisk walk" button. I should be hitting a sweat in a couple minutes. As I get into a groove, I tap one of the buttons on the treadmill and turn on the TV.

It's the news. I roll my eyes and change it to the Oprah Winfrey show. This should be nice.

"And let's welcome our special guest, both charming and good-looking, professional football player, Donnell Brice!"

The crowd of mostly ladies explode in applause as Donnell walks out with a to-die for bright smile and navy blue suit. He hasn't changed a bit. After hugging Oprah, Donnell sits his huge self on the couch. Oprah turns to him with a smile.

"How are you, Donnell? With this football season starting, you seem ready."

"And ready I am, Oprah. My teammates and I have been diligently practicing, and I'm feeling lucky about this season." He replies with his hands folded casually.

Those hands that used to strangle me till I was unconscious and spit-up on myself.

"And your wife? How are you holding up with her disappearance?"

He sighs and shakes his head. He actually looks hurt. The crowd "aws" in pity.

"I'm holding up. I just want her back home. We were high school sweethearts, you know."

"I'm so sorry to hear about this. I'm sure wherever she is, she probably misses you too. Now, do you have any clue what might've happened to her?"

He shrugs his shoulders,"Fallon had very little friends and almost no family. I don't know who would've done this to her."

Donnell and Oprah continue to talk about my disappearance. She makes a point to display photos of Donnell and I on our honeymoon and dates. I feel like screaming at the tv and telling them the truth. Donnell knows that I ran away from him.

At the end of the show, there's a picture of me on the screen with "Have You Seen Me?" written across the top. I sigh and turn the tv off. I just hope no one in this house watches this.

I hope of the treadmill and call it a day for exercising. My body is shaking with fear. I need to breath. I hold onto the railing that leads up to the first floor and breath in and out. I'm freaking out for no reason. Flashes of Donnell beating on my body come to me, and I can literally feel his hands on my body.

I sit on the steps to get myself together. After 15 minutes of hyperventilating and crying, I get enough strength to walk upstairs.

"Good workout?" Harris asks as I walk through the bathroom.

"Great." I lie.

"Hey," he says stopping me from leaving.

I stop and turn to face him.

"Yeah?"

"Can you come taste this? I don't know if it's good or not." He asks while pointing to the steaming pot.

I hesitate before agreeing.

"Sure."

I set my towel down on the table while walking towards the stove. I stand next to him and look into the pot. It smells good for one. The creamy looking concoction had pieces of shrimp and veggies.

"What is it?" I ask as he stirs.

"It doesn't have a name yet. I was just throwing things in. It's pretty healthy though." He replies.

I grab a spoon for the drawer and dip it into the pot. He watches my face as I blow on it then put it into my mouth. I close my eyes and smile. This is heaven. I truly doubt Harris can make nasty food.

"What do you think?" He asks impatiently.

"This is so good!" I say honestly.

His eyes brightens and he smiles.

"Really? Thank you." He replies.

He sets the pot low on a shimmer and covers it. I turn to leave but he touches my shoulder to stop me.

"Can we talk?" He asks in seriousness.

"Y-y-yeah. Sure." I stutter.

The air thickens with tension. We sit on the stools around the island. I cross my ankles and fiddle with my fingers.

"Fallon.... I know." He says with serious eyes.

My heart stops and my gut churns.

"What are you talking about? I say pretending not to know.

"Fallon, your past. I watch The Oprah Winfrey Show. Your football player husband... Did he beat you?"

My eyes blur with tears and I break down into ugly sobs. A couple second later, I feel Harris's arms around me in an embrace.

"It's okay. It's okay." He mumbles.