Chapter 102 I can't sleep.
CHAPTER 102
I can’t sleep.
ROMAN – POINT OF VIEW
This is how I expected to spend my evening, walking down the streets of New Jersey with my girlfriend, but I’m not complaining.
She’s speaking about a new book she read on her flight here, and I’m trying to listen, but at the same time, I’m hyper aware of our surroundings. Russell and Rue are behind us, pretending to be a couple while on the clock. I have my security team scattered all around, ready to bring down the first shady person. Absentmindedly, I run my hand over my scar, and she notices immediately.
“Roman,” she whispers, and we stop walking.
“Yeah?” I say, smiling, but she sees through it easily.
“What’s going on? Does your scar hurt?” She feels me up through the shirt. Her touch ignites need in me.
I place my hand over hers and pull it away, “I’m fine. Let’s get Ice cream.”
She reluctantly drops it, but I know she’s going to question me later.
We walk into the nearest ice cream shop. I hold her tight and scan the shop as subtly as I can. Rue and Russell are there. He gestures at the shop’s security cameras, and I nod. It’ll be a bit too much to ask them to turn off their cameras because I don’t want footage of my girlfriend online, so I just ignore it.
“What flavour do you want, baby?” She asks, running her hand over my beard.
“Chocolate sounds nice.” I shrug and lean against the counter. I need to stop trembling with lust every time she touches me.
“Boring. Pick something else, or what if you pick a flavour for me, and I pick one for you?” She beams, excited by the idea.
I nod, “Sounds perfect.” I glance at the list and choose Mint Chocolate because I know she loves it. Surprisingly, she picks the chocolate flavour.
I don’t point out her virtue. I pay, and we leave. My jaw tightens when I see the cashier taking pictures of us. Most people are at this point, and it’s irritating. They call my girlfriend a liar, and yet can’t stop watching us. They need to get a life. Perhaps I should tell them. Heat rushes through, and molten ice fills my veins. I turn around to give them a piece of my mind, but Scarlet reroutes me easily.
“Not worth it. Focus on me.” She whispers, and I nod.
We take a long walk to the park, and only when we sit do I settle down. We lick the ice cream in a comfortable silence. It’s not as tense as I expected, but I know she’s biding her time to ask me a question. I save her the trouble.
“Will you tell me what happened between you and Adeline?” I ask softly.
She exhales and gets up, “Why don’t we talk on our walk up? Russell and Rue can stick close.”
I frown, surprised that she noticed them.
“Of course, I’m aware they’re following us, Roman.” She scoffs and rolls her eyes.
“They’re not following us; they’re doing their jobs. Would you prefer to get in a cab?” I fall over my words, my ears ringing.
“Would you allow us to get into a car you haven’t vetted? Impossible. Let’s just walk. I don’t want to fight.” She calls me out on my bullshit, but still links our hands.
I’m silent, uncertain of where to go and what to say.
“Adeline and I disagreed on a mutual topic. You don’t have to worry about it. We’ll be fine. We have mutual friends, after all. We’re just in different phases of our lives right now, and it’s easy to sympathise, but empathising is a whole different thing. We don’t have to be friends, but we’re not enemies either. We’re acquitted.” She explains, giving me the answer to my earlier questions.
I let her words sink in. I have a lot more questions, but I know I shouldn’t probe.
Instead, I try to comfort her, “You and Adeline are more similar than you’d think. You have this whole old friends energy, and it’s cute, as if you can be your real self with her. I’m not implying that your other friendships are not real. My point is: I know you’ll find a way around it.”
“Maybe,” she shrugs, unbothered, but I hear the crack in her words.
“Your turn, Roman. Tell me why you’re extra cautious. Is it because of that badly written article, or is there something else I don’t know about?” She asks.
The ice cream in my hand is melting, so I take a few spoonfuls. I try to find a perfect way to explain what I feel to her. She doesn’t rush me. She’s patient.
I stop walking and turn to her.
“I’m not … the article doesn’t make me feel good, but I haven’t been sleeping, Scarlett. I can’t sleep ever since you were taken, ever since we had to fight to bring you back, ever since I got hurt. On a grand scale of things, I don’t particularly care about needing stitches; I care that I’m not as impenetrable as I think. I should be invisible, but I’m not. I’m haunted by my lack. My fears have become personified. I cannot lose you or myself, yet I feel pieces of myself being chipped away. Do you understand me?” I ask, my voice strained and heavy.
She exhales and nods, “I understand.”
“How are you so fine yet I’m falling apart? You were kidnapped, and somehow, you’re fine. Perhaps I’m reading too much into this, and it's not a big deal?” I ask, knowing how much my words sound accusatory.
“You know what? Forget I said anything. It’s something I need to work through on my own, and I will. You don’t have to worry about me.” I dismiss, and yet, I touch my scar.
She takes my hand and whispers, “It was traumatic for us. Your belief system shook. You saw the world as it is. Bad guys win, Roman. I want to tell you how I’ve built a … shield around myself, but I’ll do that later. Let’s focus on you, and start with this - you need to sleep. This is a phase, and I will walk through it with you.” She assures me, and I nod.
I am distraught and dismayed, trying to find the architect of my problem, oblivious that she’s standing in front of me.