Chapter 37: AM I… TRAPPED?

MIA

The smell of food pulled me from my sleep as I opened my eyes.

Dante was sitting on the floor with his back against the couch and there was a plate on the coffee table with toast, eggs and my favorite mug.

I didn't say anything as I sat up and neither did he for a long moment.

"I'm sorry," he said finally. He wasn't looking at me, just staring at the plate. "Last night was—I went too far."

My neck hurt from the couch cushions, my eyes felt swollen and I was too tired to be angry anymore, which maybe was the point of letting me sleep out here instead of coming to get me. He wanted me to be too weak to fight again and it worked.

"The Ren thing—" I started.

"I know." He turned to look at me then and he looked tired too, which was new because Dante never looked tired but always composed. "That was cruel. I knew it would hurt you and I said it anyway because I was angry and I wanted to win the argument but that's not—" He stopped then started again. "That's not who I want to be with you."

I pulled the blanket tighter around me and waited for him to finish.

"My father died when I was sixteen," he said. "Someone killed him even though I was told otherwise. It wasn't—it wasn't an accident or an illness, someone took him deliberately and I couldn't do anything so I have spent every year since then being terrified of losing people I care about."

"Dante—"

"I'm not telling you this as an excuse. What I did wasn't okay regardless of why I did it." He was still looking at me and his eyes looked hurt. "But I need you to understand that when I watch you too closely or I worry about the men around you, it's not because I think you're stupid or incapable. It's because I've already lost someone I love and I don't know how to be rational about that. I don't know how to turn it off."

I love. Did he… love me? My heart picked up and butterflies fluttered in my stomach.

"You should have told me about your father," I said.

"I know. I don't talk about him." His voice was rough and I felt my chest tighten because I knew what it was like to carry something heavy and silent for a long time and to finally set it down in front of someone. "I don't talk about most things that bother me but it's something I'm working on."

I reached out and touched his face, making him lean into my hand and I felt the last of my anger drain out of me.

"I'm not going anywhere," I said. "You don't have to monitor me like I am."

"I know." He turned his face to press his mouth against my palm and closed his eyes. "I'll do better. I promise."

And I believed him because he had just opened up to me. I was never going to be the person who looked at someone in that much pain and said it wasn't enough.

We moved back to the bedroom together where he held me in his arms, head buried in my neck. Maybe I was just overreacting, Dante had no bad intentions towards me.

Right?

Two days passed in peace with him cooking all through while I edited and none of us brought up the argument again.

I was looking for a reference photo on my phone when I noticed that Alex’s contact was gone. I scrolled through my contacts twice thinking I'd missed it but came up empty so I searched his name and nothing came up. I stood in the kitchen holding my phone, trying to remember if I'd deleted it myself but I had no memory of doing such.

I went to my email and searched his name.

Still nothing. Then I looked for David’s number and that was gone too. The campaign project, confirmation email and even the cancellation email were gone like I had imagined everything. I turned to Dante who hummed while doing something.

Did he do this?

Every email from every male professional contact I'd had in the past six months was gone as if someone had gone through my phone and specifically chose all of them. My hands were shaking at this point so I put the phone face down on the counter because I didn't trust myself not to show my thoughts on my face so I needed to stop looking at it and not give away what I had discovered. Dante was very good at reading my face so I couldn't risk it.

He appeared in the kitchen doorway.

"Breakfast?" He was already pulling eggs from the fridge, completely relaxed and unbothered. "I was thinking omelettes."

"Sure," I forced out with a smile.

He started cooking. When had he gone through my phone? When I was in the shower? Asleep on the couch? Is that why he apologized? Because he had already done what he wanted.

"You okay?" He was looking at me with a concerned expression that I'd once thought was genuine but now couldn't look at without seeing all the things underneath it.

"Just tired," I said.

"Sit down. I'll bring it to you."

I sat at the counter and watched him cook and tried to figure out what I was supposed to do now. I racked my brain, thinking of who I could call to help me but I had... no one. Okay, where could I go?

My apartment wasn't safe because he had a key and somehow the stalker did too. And Yuna—

"Here." He set the plate in front of me and kissed the top of my head. "Eat."

I picked up the fork. He went back to humming while I forced down the food, not really tasting it as I plastered on a smile when he looked at me then turned back to what he was doing. He had planned this from the start so that when I would start to realize, I would have nowhere to go but to be with him.

I needed a plan.

Dante had me trapped and I just realized.