Castles

Chapter 3

I should have been celebrating.

But instead I was speeding across town with an intense pain in the center of my chest. I'd have thought it was a heart attack if I hadn't had the same pain my entire life. The pain never killed me and never stayed. It disappeared as soon as I was away from her.

Create havoc, that's what she did. She made me ill. Mentally I was ill when I had to see her. Emotionally I was ill. In every way there could be I was ill.

I pulled into the driveway and parked dreading going inside the house. I wanted nothing more than to go to the carry out a block from my house and grab a cheap bottle of wine and celebrate in my tiny apartment.

I took a deep breath holding it in for a few seconds and when my heart was crashing against my chest I got out. The short walk to the front door felt like miles. I knocked three times and then let myself in. She was too selfish to welcome me into her home. Even though I grew up in it, it wasn't my home. It was just a building with walls. It was no more a home to a prisoner in a high security prison.

I checked to make sure she was alive before I went back out to my car to get her groceries. When I saw her move from where she was laying in her bed I backtracked right back out the door and down the stairs and down the driveway. I got the bags of groceries out of my trunk and headed back to the house.

There was no lemon scent or fresh paint. It was more like old cigarettes and dust. And possibly cat pee—which was odd because she didn't have a cat.

I unpacked the groceries and putting them away in the cupboards and refrigerator.

"Did you get my drink?" She called out from the doorway.

I closed my eyes when I heard her feet shuffling across the tiles of the kitchen floor. "Yes."

"What about the bologna?"

"Yes." I said again. I tossed the loaf of bread on the counter and grabbed the bananas from the paper bag. And then I crumbled the bag and put it in the wastebasket underneath the sink.

"What about my puzzles?"

I gritted my teeth. "Right there on the counter." I waited until she found it. "I have to go."

"You don't want to sit and talk?" She carried her puzzle book over to the kitchen table and pulled out the chair taking a seat.

"I need to stop at the store before it's dark," I told her. "You know I don't like driving at night."

"How's work?" She ignored my need to get home before dark. She didn't care if I didn't want to be there.

"Good. The couple I showed today put in an offer on a expensive house. So, that's good." I had to remind myself this everyday otherwise I saw what I was doing as meaningless. This wasn't me conversating with her. This was me keeping myself sane.

"I bet that's a nice commission," she said with a smile. It never showed in her eyes though. Because it wasn't real.

I pushed off the counter and nodded my head. "Yeah, a really nice commission. Max will be here next week for you. I have to go." I didn't wait for anymore conversating, I headed out the front door leaving her to her food and puzzles.

I climbed in my car and locked the doors for fear she would try to get me and hurried up and buckled my seat belt. The anxiety took the form of a big scary monster on my heels. I gripped my chest and begged the pain to go away.

And I ignored the tears that threatened as I backed out of her driveway. As soon as I was on the street and putting distance between us I felt relief.

And that pain—It didn't exist anymore.