AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It had been several days, and the distance between Erika and me was becoming unbearable. My calls went straight to voicemail, and my texts were left unanswered. I’d given her enough space, hadn’t I? The early evening light was fading as I finished up a property showing, checking my phone one last time in the hopes that she might have reached out. Nothing.
That was it—I couldn’t take it anymore. Once the showing was done, I decided to head straight to her apartment. I’d wait in the lobby until she came down, or they’d have to call the cops to drag me out. She needed to know that I wasn’t going anywhere. We weren’t her parents, and I had no intention of turning into her father.
On the way to her place, I fired off another text, but as usual, it went ignored. The silence was eating away at me. What was going on in her head? When I arrived, the concierge was preoccupied with a couple at the desk, and I seized the opportunity to slip into the elevator just as a woman with a German Shepherd exited. The dog sniffed at my leg, its nose cold against my trousers, before its owner—a stern-looking older woman who reminded me of Mrs. Ducane tugged it away.
I jammed the close-door button repeatedly, willing the elevator to seal me inside. My stomach churned as it began its ascent to the eighteenth floor. I didn’t even know if Erika was home. She’d never given me a key to her place, unlike the one I’d handed her for mine. That should’ve been the first sign that she wasn’t as committed to us as I was. I dismissed the thought, focusing instead on the task at hand.
The hallway was quiet, my footsteps echoing on the dark tiles as I made my way to her door. I paused for a moment, gathering myself, then knocked. Inside, I heard shuffling, followed by a soft tap on the door, and then nothing.
“Erika, I know you’re in there. Open up so we can talk,” I called out, my voice firm but pleading. I waited, but the door remained closed. Frustration mounting, I knocked harder. “Please, sweetheart. I want to talk.”
After what felt like an eternity, I heard the locks turn with a metallic clank. The door creaked open, revealing Erika on the other side. She looked terrible. Dark circles under her eyes hinted at sleepless nights, and her makeup-free face showed faint lines that no twenty-seven-year-old should have. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, with loose strands framing her pale cheeks. Her outfit—a faded pair of pink sweatpants with a hole in the knee and a black t-shirt with a ripped collar screamed defeat.
“Why can’t you just leave me be?” Her voice trembled, on the verge of breaking.
I pushed my way inside as she weakly backed away, shutting the door behind me. I shrugged out of my black suit jacket, rolling up my sleeves, ready for the confrontation. But as I looked at her, all I saw was someone who had already surrendered.
“We’re going to talk,” I stated firmly. “You need to tell me what happened.”
“Why can’t you understand that this is just too much for me?” she replied, her voice cracking.
“Because it wasn’t too much until almost a week ago. Something happened last weekend, and I want to know what it is.”
“I can’t tell you.” The tears she had been holding back finally spilled over, tracing wet paths down her cheeks. My heart broke for her, over and over again.
I reached out to wipe them away, but she flinched, stepping back before I could touch her. It was exasperating.
“Enough of this shit,” I said, frustration lacing my words. “You’re going to tell me what’s going on. I’m in limbo here. Are we done?”
“When you hear what I have to tell you, we are,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, trembling with emotion.
Acid rose in my throat, a bitter taste that I forced down. Suddenly, I found myself teetering on the edge—half of me desperate to know, the other half wanting to flee. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. Steeling myself, I walked to the couch and sat down, patting the cushion beside me. She hesitated, then chose the far end of the couch instead, putting as much distance between us as possible. Another bad sign.
Erika wiped her eyes, took a shaky breath, and then, finally, began to speak.
“You’ve heard the name Foster before,” she started, her voice barely above a whisper.
I clenched my jaw so tight I thought my teeth might crack. “You said it in your sleep.”
“I lied,” she admitted, her eyes dropping to the floor. “I know him. In fact, I know him very well.”
“Who the fuck is he?” I growled, the anger bubbling up from somewhere dark.
“An old boyfriend… an old fiancé.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly finding it hard to exhale. “You were engaged?”
“Many years ago,” she said, her voice trembling. “I was young and stupid. He twisted me around his finger, and I fell for him hard. Foster Black was a senior when I was a freshman…”
I cut her off, disbelief lacing my words. “Did you say Foster Black?”
Her eyes flicked up to mine, a spark of surprise in them. “You know him?”
“I know of him,” I spat. “He’s an asshole. Son of privilege, spoiled bastard, heartbreaker.”
“Funny,” she mumbled, her tone bitter, “he said much of the same thing about you.”
“Excuse me?” I shot back, the venom in my voice unmistakable.
