I wish more than anything that I hadn’t told Shelby that I was going off my hormonal birth control last year. （Jay and I use a condom, because I don’t even want to contemplate that situation.） I did think I would probably get pregnant fairly soon, and it’s a tribute to how little sex we have had that we are still child free. Or maybe my womb is simply withered and dried up. Who knows?
And it doesn’t look like our sex life is improving. I had that glimmer of hope when Nate was up for it two days in a row, but ever since then, we have gone through our worst drought yet. The first Saturday of the month came along, and Nate complained his bad back was acting up. I’m starting to wonder if we will ever have sex again.
“No luck yet,” I tell Shelby.
She purses her lips. “Maybe you should see a doctor? They have those infertility specialists, right?”
I don’t need a doctor with lots of fancy degrees to tell me that intercourse is required to conceive a child. “Yes, maybe we will.”
Shelby hugs me one more time, then she hurries to her car to take her back to her perfect life. And I am left watching her drive away.
As soon as the headlights of their Mercedes disappear into the distance, all the tension drains out of my body. Thank God she’s gone. And despite all her big talk about future dinners, she hates leaving her son at night, so I’m off the hook for at least another six months.
Tomorrow is garbage day, so I go back into the house to empty the refuse from our meal tonight, and I grab the garbage bins and haul them out to the curb. It’s a perfect end to my glamorous evening.
Just as I get to the curb, I get this strange feeling. A prickling in the back of my neck, like somebody is watching me. I turn around and look up at the window to our bedroom to see if Nate is up there, but I don’t see him.
And then I hear a loud thump.
I take a step back, scanning our front lawn, my heart pounding. I don’t see anyone there, but I definitely heard a noise. Could it have been a wild animal? I’ve seen rabbits hopping around the yard, but that sounded awfully loud for a rabbit.
“Hello?” I call out.
I’m wearing a dress, which means I have no pockets. My phone is back in the house, and there isn’t anything that could serve as a weapon in the vicinity. The only thing I could use would be my stiletto heels, although I’d rather a mugger take me down than wreck my pumps. I did take a self-defense class once, although sometimes I worry all it did was give me a false sense of confidence. If someone really did attack me, they could overpower me easily.
I eye the front door to my house. It’s probably less than twenty feet from where I’m standing. I could run.
And then I see the rustling in the bushes.
There’s something there. It’s no animal—I clearly see a shadow of a fully grown person. Someone is lurking in our bushes, and here I am, standing out on the curb in our quiet cul-de-sac in nothing but a scrap of a dress—a sitting duck.
I consider screaming, but it occurs to me that if I do so, it might make the situation worse. Perhaps the intruder will feel a need to attack me to quiet me down. I glance behind me at the nearest house—its lights are out. If I scream, will somebody notice before the attacker descends on me?
I can’t take that chance.
I count to five in my head. As soon as I reach five, I take off running in the direction of my front door. The heel of my right stiletto nearly catches on the front steps, but I miraculously manage to right myself. The rustling sound gets louder, and I reach for the doorknob with a trembling hand. And it doesn’t turn.
No.
I didn’t lock it, did I? I don’t even have my keys. Unless Nate locked it when I left the house. But why would he do that?
Why would my own husband lock me out of the house?
I twist harder, and this time, the knob does turn. Thank God—it was just stuck. I push my way into the house, and before I slam my front door closed, I catch a glimpse of a figure darting across my front yard. And for a moment, I can make out her face in a slice of moonlight.
It’s Addie Severson.
OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Forty-Four
EVE
I HAVE NEVER BEEN QUITE this panicked in my entire life. I even removed my stilettos so that I can properly pace across the bedroom. This must be my twentieth lap, and I don’t feel any better.
“Are you sure it was her?” Nate asks me.
As soon as I got back into the house, I scurried up to the bedroom and told Nate what I saw outside. He is not upset enough to pace. He is not even concerned enough to climb out of bed. He is not the least bit perturbed that my student was crouched in the bushes outside our house. He thinks it was all in my head.