My Guest in Apartment 10B

Confronting Skeletons in the Closet

Richard's grin was triumphantly smug. He had found her despite all her attempts to hide.

His hair, his awfully coiffed dark blonde hair, still didn't have a strand out of place. There was a time when the sight of his hair was enough to make her heart flutter, yet at present, she couldn't think of anything more satisfying than seeing it all shaved off—well, perhaps his reaction to a bald head would be a tad bit more satisfying than the baldness itself.

However furious Arabella might have felt, one emotion overpowered her anger. It was an emotion that she had been all too familiar with in the 4 years they had been together.

He was still as terrifying as she remembered. Running hadn't taken the fear away.

Even now, seeing him standing in the middle of the living room, his clothes pressed, hands casually in his pockets, made her blood run cold.

Richard had never believed in coincidence. He believed that everything could be calculated and planned to a T—even obtaining her love.

"Speechless, babe? I'm here, I've missed you a lot." He tipped his forehead towards the door behind her. "Tsk, you forgot to lock up," he tutted before his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. "I've always had to remind you to do that. I guess you fell into old habits without me."

"Why the fuck are you here?" Arabella demanded, keeping the door open behind her, in hopes of seeing Mrs. Rothschild coming up. She needed to call the police!

There was a slight twitch in Richard's expression. His steely eyes squinted for a split second, but relaxed as quickly as they had hardened.

"I'm sorry, babe." His face softened, "I thought that this would be a good surprise, but clearly, I misjudged." Annoyance etched on his face, Richard took a step forward and Arabella took an instinctive step back.

This seemed to put Richard more on edge. "Why are you treating me as if I'm a dangerous criminal? I'm your fiancé for god's sake."

"Was. We are not together anymore," she spat bitterly and stepped away from him, moving towards the insides of the kitchen as he continued to move forward. "This is my apartment, and you're trespassing. I want you to leave, now!"

Their steady dance left him near the door and Arabella beside the refrigerator. Their positions had reversed.

Richard rolled his eyes. "I've no time to play this merry-go-round with you, babe. Why don't we talk about this like adults? You're behaving like a child."

"Stop. That." Arabella ran a hand over her face, frustrated and pained.

How could she dig through her bag to phone the police when he was watching her every move?

He might attack her, and Arabella didn't think that she was good enough at combat to throw him off. Given a few minutes, Richard could probably choke her, and her struggles would be a pathetic attempt at survival.

He had never laid so much as a finger on her before, but there was something in his gait and stance that told her that he might not be as opposed to doing so now.

"Let's communicate..." His words were delivered with a creepy serene smile.He had slammed the door behind him, "...in private," he finished.

He allowed his gaze to wander around the room to observe his surroundings. "A cozy little place you have here. I didn't take you for a city girl, much less, New York, but this place suits you. The building is a little old and detached from the modern world, but I can see how it suits you."

That was clearly an insult hidden in a compliment, but it surprised her that realizing what he meant didn't make her flinch.

Richard sighed and leaned against the nearest counter, his arms crossed against his chest. "I loved you. I still love you. Why did you have to run away from something so good?"