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“It’s okay; you don’t have to say anything else.” She says.
You’re wrong, Poppy; there is a lot I have to say; I just don’t know how. I can’t find the correct letters to spell everything out.
Chapter 10
Julian
I understand that women need privacy, especially when they enter a bathroom, unlike my brothers, who brag about what happens behind those closed doors. Women don’t like to brag about piss and shit. I know that.
What I don’t know is the limit you should allow a woman to be in the bathroom when you know she isn’t using it for its intended purpose.
A heavy sigh escapes my lips as I glance at the screen of my phone. Two in the morning. I set the phone back on my end table and reach across the mattress where Poppy should be sleeping. It’s no longer warm. Rolling over, I gaze at the bathroom door, which is closed. Poppy went in there fifteen minutes ago. I woke up as soon as she moved the sheets, but I didn’t say anything because I figured she just had to pee. There’s been no sound, not even the toilet lid being opened.
Poppy's hiding, literally. I know she’s in there, her thoughts spiraling.
I swing my legs out and approach the door. I’m terrible at talking, or at least I think I am. I need to call a professional, someone she can talk to. I just don’t want it to sound wrong, like,‘Hey baby, you need a shrink.’
When I think about everything that has happened, after years of bottling it up and blaming herself, and now with the recurrence of Andrew, my woman needs to talk about it.
Most women can't stop talking, but Poppy isn’t most women. That’s what I love about her. It figures that the thing I love about her is trying to drive a wedge between us.
“Poppy,” I say, trying to sound gentle as I knock on the door.
“Yeah?” she responds.
I press my palm against the door.“Are you okay?”
She clears her throat.“Um…”
Okay, I’m going in. I push open the door, and she is standing in the corner with her legs crossed as she bounces, looking like she has to pee really bad. I look around, half-expecting to be shocked that there's a line in my bathroom. Why else would she be holding her pee? Color me not shocked when I see the toilet empty and, hey, look, I did remember to put the seat down.
“What’s the matter?” I close the distance, touching her, and as soon as I do, she stops bouncing from foot to foot.
“I need to pee,” she whispers.
“Okay…” I reply. Did I forget to clean the toilet or restock the toilet paper? I take another look. Nope, it’s sparkling. Maybe I can be a neat and respectable guy to live with.
“Pumpkin, what’s wrong?” I press.
She looks around as if she’s nervous, and then she pushes up on her toes, trying to whisper in my ear,“What if there are cameras in here? What if he’s watching?” She plants her feet back down, and I see her eyes water.“What if he’s been watching you, invading your privacy too?”
Fuck.
“Pumpkin.”
“I’m not crazy,” she snaps.
I hold up my hands.“I didn’t say you were, and I think that’s a valid concern, but I had my uncle’s men check my place after they found the cameras in yours.”
Poppy’s lips part, and all I want to do is kiss her. I feel a stir of desire. Maybe I can just fuck away all her fears.
“You did,” she replies.
I nod.“My place is clean, well, minus the mess I make, but I know you’ve got your label maker and that handbag, which weighs twenty pounds and is filled with cleaning and organizing supplies, to help me make it livable again.”
She smiles.Good. Just keep making her smile.
She glances at the toilet again, then back up at the ceiling where the air vent is.“There’s nothing in here. My place is our safe place, Pumpkin.”
