by Krista Lakes
"Kaylee is fine, sir. A little shaken, though. I got here just in time." Dean glanced at me. I was still shaking like a leaf in an autumn breeze. He gave my shoulder a slight squeeze, then stood and headed toward the kitchen to tell Owen what had happened. I was grateful that he was giving me space so I didn't have to hear the words happen again.
I looked out at the sand beating against the window. It was beautiful in a way, but I knew I could never survive out there. Lightning flashed amid the swirling brown clouds. There was no moisture out there, only swirling, hateful sand. It was as if Mother Nature herself was telling me that I didn't belong in this place.
"Yes, sir, I understand. I'll see to it. Thank you, sir." Dean came over and handed me the phone. My hands were shaking so badly that I almost dropped it.
"Owen?" I was surprised that my voice didn't come out as a squeak. It sounded normal.
"Are you alright, Kaylee? I'll come home right now, sandstorm be damned." He sounded angry, but I knew his anger wasn't directed at me though.
"I'm okay. A little shaky, but I'm okay. Really." If I told him I was okay and he believed it, then maybe I really would be. "Please wait until the storm is over. Dean is with me and I don't need you getting turned into a sand zombie."
"Kaylee, I want you to know that I'm not going to let this kind of behavior slide." Owen's voice vibrated with a quiet rage. I was very glad he was on my side.
"Thank you, Owen," I said softly.
"I'll call back in a little bit, okay?"
I nodded, not caring that he couldn't see me as the line went quiet. I let the phone fall to my lap as I just stared out at the raging storm that would never yield any rain.
***
When the storm finally ended, the world returned to too-bright sunshine and blue skies. Down below, I could see workers with brooms pushing piles of sand from the sidewalks, the clean-up already beginning. Owen was home shortly, almost as soon as the sky was clear.
"Kaylee," he called, barging into the room. I got up from the couch, knowing I was pale and trembling. I was in his arms before I could take a second breath.
Owen held me tight against his chest, his heart pounding wildly. I held onto him like he was the only solid thing in my world, a strong rock to hold onto among the swirling sands. He kept his arms around me, but looked down, releasing me slightly to brush a stray strand of hair from my face.
"You're sure you're okay?"
"If either of you asks me that again, I will hit you," I said, glancing toward Dean. He sat protectively by the door, a lion guarding his den. "Look, I made you both some dinner. I don't want to talk about what happened right now. I just want to eat."
The two men shared a glance and nodded. I knew the smells coming from the kitchen were intoxicating. Once I had hung up with Owen, I had dived into my cooking. It was something that required my concentration and allowed me to distance myself from what had just happened. I wasn't ready to deal with it yet.
Owen put on a smile, his face attempting to convince his brain that everything was okay. "What did you make? It smells wonderful."
"Cheeseburger Pie, a salad, and cookies." I motioned them both to the table and brought out a steaming casserole dish.
"What's cheeseburger pie? I don't think I've ever heard of it," Owen said, eying the baking dish in my hands.
"It's basically meatloaf with mashed potatoes and lots and lots of cheese. I had to improvise on the salad a little bit, but I think it came out pretty good. I'll put the cookies in the oven in just a couple minutes so they'll come out warm when we want to eat them." I smiled at the two men.
It was so much easier to just pretend that nothing had happened. I didn't want that afternoon to be real, so I chose not to think about it. I knew that I was going to have to face it eventually, but I didn't want to do it right this minute. I wanted to pretend, just for a little while, that everything was normal and things were going to work out the way they should. I just wanted to forget.
We ate quietly as the sun began to sink and the world turned dark. I put the dishes in the sink and we sat on the couches eating cookies, only making small-talk. When the cookies were gone, Dean volunteered to do dishes. I watched as Owen turned his phone on, which was bizarre because he never had his phone turned off. It immediately chirped at him and he went into the next room to work on it.
I sat on the couch. The room dipped into darkness as night fell across the city. For the first time since I was a small child, the dark made me nervous. I was sure every noise in the hallway was Roger trying to sneak back in. Every creak of the giant building made me feel sure that something terrible was about to happen.
I ran around the room, turning on every light I could find, but it didn't get rid of the fear. Owen came out and sat beside me on the couch, trying his best to be strong and comforting. I knew I was jumping at shadows, but that didn't make me any less stressed out.
A key slid into the door and the handle moved. I froze, but the door didn't unlock. A panic swept through me. I knew it was Roger coming back to take his revenge on the three of us. Would he be armed this time? Owen looked at me, his face going pale. Dean moved to the door like a hunting cat, opening it like he was expecting to jump on his prey.
A very startled businessman looked up at Dean with wide eyes, his hand holding the keycard in midair. "I must have the wrong room! So sorry!" he yelped, quickly scurrying out from under Dean's predatory gaze. Dean watched him disappear down the hall before closing the door.
"I'll be right outside if you need me," he said softly, knowing that Owen and I needed to talk. I waited until the door clicked shut before speaking.
"I can't stay here." I could feel a tear trickling down my cheek. I hated being afraid. "I want to go home."
Owen's brows furrowed. "Are you sure? We could get another hotel?'
"I know he would just find us again. Besides, we're supposed to have dinner with him tomorrow night. His father is the man you are here to see. I'm so sorry, Owen, but I can't stay here."
"Kaylee, I don't know what to do here. I want to do my job, but I want to make sure you are safe. You are more important to me, but I want to make sure that's really what you want."
"I know this contract is important to you Owen. I never meant to make things complicated-"
Owen cut me off before I could finish the sentence. "This is not your fault, Kaylee. Rashid is a jerk and if his father can't see past that to do business then he is an idiot."
I smiled, glad that Owen would be on my side no matter what.
"Owen, this place is your life. Not mine. I don't like it here. The sun, the sand, the foreignness of everything, the constant threat of Roger—it just makes it clearer and clearer that I don't belong here."
"Maybe next time-" Owen started, but I cut him off this time.
"There will be no next time, Owen. I won't come back here."
Owen went quiet. If I never came back here, then that meant he would spend weeks here alone. We couldn't be together. Thoughts and pain flitted across his face like shadows across the sand dunes.
"I'll take you home, then," he said finally. "We'll leave first thing in the morning."
Chapter 19
"Owen, you don't have to come. You have obligations here," I said softly as we walked in the desert sun to the waiting jet. The red carpet was there once more, along with the stairs into the plane, but I didn't feel glamorous today. I just wanted to go home and forget that this trip ever happened.
"Kaylee, I can't in good conscience let you get on that airplane by yourself. You don't exactly do well on them." He smiled at me, but there was a tension around his eyes which I hadn't seen before. I boarded the airplane first, and I glanced back to see Owen standing at the first step, his gaze at the horizon. He was taking the scenery in as though he might never come back.
I buckled myself into the large leather recliner, settling in and taking some deep, calming breaths. This airplane wasn't as frightening this time, but I wasn't about to thin
k that I could do this flying thing on a regular basis. Owen sat across from me, looking out the window and resting his hands on his knees. He looked mostly relaxed, save for the tension in his jawline.
I gave him a smile, though in all honesty it was only a curve of my lips since my heart wasn't in it. He mirrored my expression as I popped one of the pills from the previous flight into my mouth. I leaned back, focusing on my breathing and convincing myself that I could do this.
The plane started to rumble forward, the engines turning form a high-pitched whine into a solid roar as the wings met the wind. I could see Owen open up his laptop and begin banging on the keys, a frown across his face. I wondered just how much this little detour was screwing up his business dealings. He was supposed to be meeting with the sheik right now to discuss billions of dollars' worth of contracts, not getting on a plane to fly a terrified girl home.
My ears popped as we rose higher, and I took a deep breath, trying to keep my fear at bay. My body wanted to give into the terror, but I wasn't going to let it. The medication was starting to work itself into my system, making it easier to turn off the instinctual fear.
"Owen?"
He looked up for a moment, annoyed, before smoothing the lines of his face.
"Thank you." I gave him a small smile, hoping his edginess would subside. He smiled and ran his hand through his golden hair.
"Of course, Kaylee. You know I would do anything for you."
An awkward pause fell between us. I didn't know what to say. How could I thank him for possibly ruining a billion dollar contract because of me? Because of Roger, I quickly corrected myself. It wasn't my fault that I no longer felt safe in Dubai. Unfortunately, just because it wasn't my fault, didn't take away the guilty feeling.
There was a space growing between Owen and I that wasn't due to the position of the plane. He was angry about something, the way he banged on his keyboard, and the flash in his eyes giving it away. I knew he wasn't mad at me but rather the situation. I wished for the millionth time that I could change how things had happened. I just wanted to go back to the way things used to be.
"Owen?" I asked, hoping to catch his attention. He made a noncommittal noise, but didn't look up. I didn't continue and instead just leaned my seat back. Something had changed about him, but I couldn't figure out what. The medicine was starting to make me drowsy, and since Owen didn't want to talk, I just let it overpower and carry me off to sleep.
***
Rain beat on the windows of the chauffeured town-car, smearing the lines of Des Moines into sad gray smudges. We drove by Gray's Lake and the crab-apple forest, but the blossoms were long gone. The lake was blocked by cement barriers displaying signs that the park was closed due to flooding. Over the softly playing radio, I could hear a weather report for yet more rain and increasing flooding throughout the area.
Owen and I sat on opposite sides of the vehicle. He hadn't said more than a word since we got off the airplane and into the car. We both knew that something we didn't want was going to happen. The flight had been painfully uncomfortable. Owen had focused on his work as we flew away from the thing he was trying to accomplish, the silence deafening. I appreciated that he was willing to drop everything for me, but I didn't want to ruin his dreams.
It wasn't even so much the leaving that was keeping us quiet; it was the fact that I would never go back. Rashid al-Saffar had too much influence in the region for me to ever feel safe there again. Unfortunately, that was exactly where Owen's job needed him to be. He would travel, and I would have to stay behind. It would be a long distance relationship that would never work. We both knew this was going to be the end, but we were trying to maintain the illusion of us as a couple for as long as possible.
The car pulled to a stop in the parking lot of my building. We sat silently, neither one of us really ready to say goodbye, but knowing it had to be done. The driver exited the car and started moving my suitcases toward my apartment. A small rumble of thunder echoed in the distance, breaking the silence.
"I can't live this lifestyle anymore, Owen. I love you, but I can't do this." The words trickled out with my tears. I didn't want to say them, but they needed to be said.
"There are other places in the world we can go," Owen replied halfheartedly. His dark blue eyes held an ocean of sadness. This wasn't how either of us wanted our relationship to end.
"No, Owen. No matter where we go, I would just end up resenting you, or you resenting me. I let myself get drawn into something I didn't want with my last boyfriend, and it nearly broke me. We have to be equals. We can compromise, but sometimes a person can compromise too much. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone, but I have to stay true to myself. I'm sorry." I felt a hot tear leak out, burning as it slipped down my cheek.
Owen nodded slowly. "I understand." He reached out and wiped the tear from my face with his thumb, cradling my jaw in his hand. His eyes shone with tears as he leaned forward and kissed me softly. I closed my eyes and tried to put every detail of it into my memory. The way his lips were soft against mine, the taste of his skin, the warmth of his hand, the smell of his cologne. I mentally cataloged it, trying to secure it in my mind so I would forever remember it.
"I have to take care of some business, but I promise I'll be back." Owen's hand stayed on my cheek, even as he pulled away. I appreciated the lie. It made leaving the car easier. The driver had returned, shaking raindrops off his hat.
"Goodbye, Owen." I said it so softly I wasn't sure if he heard me. A single tear ran out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't move to brush it away.
"Goodbye, Kaylee," he whispered. I barely heard it as I bolted from the car. Thunder rolled in the distance as the car drove away, but all I could see was the rain.
Chapter 20
The next morning I woke to the soft sound of more rain on the roof. I lay in bed, staring at the dark ceiling, trying to fall back asleep but not having any success. My alarm clock told me it was only four in the morning. I groaned and tried to close my eyes one last time, but my body was convinced it was lunchtime and that I needed to get up. I realized that I hated jet lag with a passion.
I got up and walked into the kitchen, ready to start a pot of coffee and get something to eat. Halfway through the living room, I tripped on a laundry basket in the middle of the floor. After shouting swear words at the plastic hamper and threatening to melt it into sporks, I turned on a light and successfully navigated to my coffee pot. As I waited for the coffee to brew, I glanced around the small room. Even in the dim, pre-dawn light, it was a disaster area. Much like my life, I thought.
"I'm fixing this," I said aloud to no one. I started by putting the dirty dishes in the dishwasher until the coffee pot sputtered to silence. It felt good to organize and put things away, trying to tame the mess that was my life. Mug in hand, I started to clean up my living room.
Three loads of laundry later, my house was spic-and-span again. I glanced around the room, smiling at how it felt more like home. I glanced at my phone on the now clean coffee table. I hadn't heard it buzz or chirp, and no light was flashing on it to indicate a new message. Before I could stop myself, I picked it up and looked just to make sure I hadn't missed one.
Empty. No new messages. I set it down, wondering if I should send Owen the first message. The blank screen stared up at me. I wasn't sure what part of the world he was in. He never said whether he was going back to Dubai or back to New York. My fingers itched to text him, but I was the one who said I couldn't live his executive lifestyle. I was the one who had asked to go home. I didn't want to get his hopes up for something I couldn't give.
I regarded the silent phone for a moment, willing it to ring. It simply sat there like the piece of plastic it was. I felt like screaming. I needed something to do. If I sat here much longer, I was going to burst into tears and I didn't want to cry anymore. The tears, anger, and hurt were all welling up in my chest, and I wasn't ready to deal with any of it. I wanted the illusion that things were the w
ay they were supposed to be.
I went to the kitchen and started pulling out pots and pans, turning on the oven and pulling out my cookbooks. If I couldn't sit still, at least I could be productive. Flour covered my kitchen in no time as I went to work kneading bread, baking cookies, and using up all the baking supplies in my pantry. I only had a few things in my fridge, so I couldn't do much more than the basics.
After a run of cookies, a loaf of banana bread, and a failed experiment at egg-free brownies, I could go no further with my meager supply of groceries. I knew I wasn't going to eat all the things I had just baked, but at least it was now closer to lunch than to breakfast.
I picked up my phone, fully intent on calling Marissa, and if I happened to check my messages as a result of said phone call, I wasn't going to beat myself up about it. No messages.
I wanted to pout, but instead I did what I had intended, and called Marissa. I knew Allie was working today, but Tuesdays were usually Marissa's day off. All I got was a cheery sounding voice-mail recording.
"Hey, so, I'm back in town. Give me a call when you get this." I tried not to sound as dejected as I felt, but I knew she would see through me in an instant. Getting a call from a friend who is supposed to be on vacation saying they're back in town is a pretty sure way to know something happened.
The urge to do something, anything, was growing stronger. I needed to get out of the house. There wasn't anything for me here; no reason for me to stay indoors. I hopped in the shower, rinsed the flour out of my hair, and changed into jeans and a comfy shirt. I didn't need to impress anyone today.
A piece of paper fluttered from the door jam as I opened the it. My heart caught for a second as I thought of Owen leaving me a note, but I quickly recognized the apartment building's logo.
Dear Resident,
We are sorry to inform you that the intercom and door lock system for your building is currently broken. Please note that visitors will be able to use the intercom to notify residents of arrival, but the two-way communication and door unlock features are currently unavailable. The resident will have to manually open the door to allow visitors into the building.