Eternity's Ending (our version of events) - Book One

Vincent

I don't force my way into the privacy the covers provide for her. I don't ask her to reveal the secret dream she is keeping from me. I spend twenty minutes waiting for her to either emerge from her bunker or invite me in when her alarm sounds. She springs from the covers and into the bathroom before I have the chance to get a word in.

"Shit! Shit! Shit," the profanity follows a loud thud and I rush to the door.

"Are you okay?" my hand is on the door handled, in case her answer is no.

"Fine," she growls.

I back away from the door and head to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, hopefully, caffeine will take the edge off.

She enters the kitchen in a flurry.

"Good morning," I say casually.

"I'm late."

"It's only 6:30, you're actually pretty darn early."

"No. I'm supposed to meet Cassie and a prospect for coffee at 6:45. I'm late."

"Ok. It's still early for the rest of the world, so there won't be any traffic. You can be at your office in 12 minutes with the way you drive."

She ignores the joke and throws a kiss on my lips before disappearing out of the kitchen.

By midweek, terrible mornings and awful days have become the norm. I wake her from a nightmare, she escapes back into the covers then emerges from her hideaway with a demeanor that leaves a lot to be desired. So when I walk into the house tonight, I'm prepared to be greeted by the Xander I've been living with for the past three days. Instead, I am met with a note.

Had a bad day again. You wouldn't understand. I'm sorry.

I dial her cell phone because I just don't feel good about the note. She could have sent a text or left a message but she comes home to write me a note? Her phone goes straight to voicemail so I start talking after the beep.

"I'm sorry you're having a bad day. Just wanted to know when I should expect you so I know you're okay."

I'm tempted to call Cassie, just to ensure Xander is, in fact, alright, but I decide to make that a last resort.

Cassie's phone rings for the second time when Xander walks through the door. It's 11:56 PM. Although we've never established a curfew, she's missed it by a mile.

"You could have at least called to say you were okay," I say as I end the call to Cassie.

"I left a note."

"That didn't tell me anything about where you were or when to expect you. How was I supposed to know when to start worrying?"

"Maybe you just weren't supposed to worry." she steps out of her shoes and I can see the heel hanging on with the help of a piece of gum.

"Ok," I say annoyed by her complete nonchalance toward what I feel is unacceptable behavior.

"I'm going to bed," she says leaving her shoes in the middle of the kitchen floor.

"Don't you think we need to talk?

"About what?" Xander's arms are folded across her chest.

"About you, about what's been going on with you these past few days."

"Nothing."

"Something. What?" I push, "just tell me what's wrong. Maybe I can fix it."

"Here you go. Maybe I don't need to be fixed, Mr. P. Maybe sometimes life is just shitty. I've learned to accept that. You should try it. Take off the cape. I don't need a hero, just a little privacy. Is that alright?" she is not really asking.

"Fine," I throw my hands into the air, "have it your way."

"I always do," she shoots back before disappearing around the corner.