Her Forever

Rosalie

After the long trek home with an expensive Uber, I rolled up to my shabby apartment in the middle of the city. It was ten stories high and probably one of the oldest buildings on the block. The foundation was slowly crumbling, and the safety of this side of town was definitely iffy at best.

With my taser in hand, I shuffle through my pockets to grab my keys and open the main entrance to the apartment building. After climbing six stories and jumping three or four broken stairs, I finally reached my door. It was the newest-looking door out of the whole building; I naturally replaced the doors and locks once I moved in just a year ago.

Once inside, I threw my keys to the table at the entrance of the hallway. I bolted the seven locks I had on the door and walked into my tiny studio apartment. My cat, Macaroni, padded up to me with her judgmental look. The only separate room was the bathroom, but even that didn’t have a door, just a curtain to divide the living room/bedroom to the toilet and shower. It was alright, though, since I never had anyone over anyways.

I let out a g***n and headed to her water and food bowl, filling it with her food and a few treats. Macaroni had been with me since I was 10 years old, dealing with my abusive foster parent. She kept me sane and a reason for living. Macaroni began to make her warrior cry for food and rub her body up against my legs.

My small desk with my computer sat near the window that was boarded shut. Windows were a great luxury but also a target for those who wanted to break in. Safety from the outside world was what I craved. I had boarded up my window the second day I arrived here to keep any intruders out. I decided I would just burn up inside the apartment and call it a done deal. There were only a few cracks between the boards to let me know how the weather was outside.

This was supposed to be my safe place, and I would keep it as safe as possible. Having your guard up constantly was utterly exhausting.

Stripping out of my attire, I head to the shower to rinse off the smell of smoke and alcohol from the club. Hot showers were rare, and since it was in the middle of the night, I knew I would get the bulk of the hot water in the building. With the hot water cascading down my achy legs and feet, I let out a small sigh. I forgot how good hot water really felt.

While getting dressed, I thought of how strange how Mr. Storm looked at me and rarely spoke. His business partner or assistant was doing the main bit of talking while I fixed his computer. Maybe he was one of those men that didn’t like to talk to people lesser than him. He was ridiculously handsome and mysterious at the same time. It is the perfect combination for a hot romance novel or for any woman in the city to let their inner s*x goddess out.

I checked my computer for any email messages from my professors; it was hard to believe this was my last day as a master’s student. I would be officially free from all my education, except for the occasional refresher courses because technology never slows down.

My thesis was nearly finished, and I planned on sending in the final draft in the morning after I proofread it at the local coffee shop, I attend every Saturday. That was my treat for the week since I rarely spend any money and all towards my loans.

With an over-exaggerated yawn, I sat my butt on the rickety bed and laid down. For some reason, my thoughts consumed only the mysterious Mr. Storm and the hot dance I encountered at the club. The tingly touches were the same. He couldn‘t have possibly been there too could he? Even though I am totally opposed to any relationships, especially romantic ones, I let my mind wonder of what could have been if I wasn’t so broken and messed up myself. I could have been happy, maybe one day I will, but this I know for sure; I’d be alone.

My alarm woke me from my deep sleep just 7 hours later, and Macaroni hopped on my chest. Smacking the alarm off the table, I threw my arm over my eyes. Macaroni took it upon herself to turn around and stick her butt hole in my face. She knows I hate that, the dumb calico cat. “Fine,” I whispered with a huff.

Again, I got her cat food out, filling the bowl to help satisfy her needs for the day. The cat had a bottomless pit of a stomach and was ridiculously huge. The vet said that was just how her body was built, and she wasn’t unhealthy, just big boned. Sure, I’ll go with that as long as I don’t have to pay more vet bills.

Since I had a shower the night before and wasn’t really wanting a cold one this morning, I put on my skinny black jeans, baby blue t-shirt, and a black cardigan. The weather was trying to turn off cold, so layers were a must in the morning. After brushing my teeth, a little bit of foundation, mascara, and l*p-gloss, I head out the door and lock the multiple locks on the door.

I take the ten-block walk from my apartment to La’ Petite Cafe and order my usual ice vanilla latte with my computer in hand. Scanning through my thesis one more time, I decided to finally hit “send” and hope for the best. I have worked hard to get to where I am, especially of all the obstacles I’ve had to go through. With this final degree, I could pay off my loans quicker with a better paying self-employed job and hopefully have a tiny house in the country somewhere and never have to be bothered by people again.

I sound like a complete lunatic. I really do not have a fear of people; in fact, I do like people. Unfortunately, they don’t like me. Every single relationship I have had, which have all been friendships, ended up in ruins because of my foster parents’ unwillingness to keep me, thus sending me away or end up with an abusive man that made me think he cared about me.

I’ve never had a best friend; I have not confided in people in a long time. Amanda has probably been the closest friend I’ve had in my entire life, and I’ve only known her a year at my current job. She still doesn’t know a thing about me, and I’ve been trying to keep it that way; it is best not to get attached to people; it only leads to heartache in the end. If you get to close and form relationships, people get to know you. They find out your past and start putting pieces of the puzzle together. They will realize how broken you really are and don’t know whether to give you pity or throw you off the friendship wagon because they just can’t deal. Heartache. You only get heartache with these supposed friends. Your heart can only be broken so many times before it can be repaired again.

With one click of the send button, I was free. A genuine smile finally graced my face, the first one in a long time. I was about to reward myself with one of the fresh muffins that just came out of the back of the cafe’ when my phone started to ring.

Amanda.

That girl had to be hungover; it was only 9 am.

“Lee!!!” Dang, she is peppy this morning. “What are you up to?!” she screeched into the phone.

“How are you not hungover, Mandy? You drank a ton and left the club way after me, I’m sure,” I joked.

“I had been practicing my entire life for that moment. I’m completely fine!” she laughed. “Did you send your thesis in? Where are you? What are you doing?”

“Easy there, tiger, I’m at the cafe.” I took a big sip of my latte.

“Oh, I’m not far from there; I’ll meet you!” With that, she hung up the phone quickly. Amanda had always been the peppy one, and she was indeed lovely. She made my life bearable at the real estate office. The only reason we were that great of friends was because of her constant need for help with her computer. She couldn’t even open a PowerPoint without my help. Where did this woman grow up where she didn’t learn basic computer skills?

There were weekends I would spend at her place just to teach her basic computer knowledge. She said she was such an outdoor girl that Amanda spent most of her time outside playing and camping in the woods as a child that she didn’t have time for computers. Plus, she was homeschooled, and her parents didn’t see a need for it.

I enjoyed helping her, however. She could make me laugh, and I loved hearing stories about her family and home. She grew up with a large family, and they all lived relatively close to each other. They were only two hours away from the big city, so she visited almost every weekend.

I had just bought my muffin and sat back down when Amanda burst through the door. She came up and gave me a giant hug from behind, and I couldn’t help but stiffen with the sudden contact. “Calm down, Lee; it is just me.” She whispered. Letting my body relax, she grabbed her black coffee and sat in the booth with me.

“So, did you dream of your mystery dancer last night?” She took a big sip and gave me an over-exaggerated wink. I rolled my eyes at the thought.

“No, slept like a baby.” I lied. I had, in fact, dreamed of dancing but more so to the mysterious Mr. Storm that couldn’t leave my mind. It was like he infiltrated my dreams, and I knew he wasn’t going to leave anytime soon. A girl can dream as long as I don’t act.

“Hmm, sure.” She hummed. “I want you to meet someone.”

“If they are anything like your male cousin of yours that kept telling me blonde jokes, I’ll pass.” I rolled my eyes. Amanda had been trying to hook me up with a lot of her friends from work, but I always instantly denied it. She said it isn’t healthy being alone without some sort of romance or at least getting laid. If only she knew how broken I was.

“I don’t need a man, and I don’t need a lot of friends. I just have to pay off my loans, and then I’ll move somewhere outside the city and work from home.”

“That sounds utterly depressing.” She rolled her eyes. “Why would you want to do that? Don’t give me, ‘it’s a long story’ deal either. You have to open up to someone; you keep things to yourself way too much. I’m an open book, yet you tell me nothing about yourself. It isn’t healthy.”

“It may not be mentally healthy, but it keeps me physically healthy,” I mumbled quietly. The way Amanda’s eyes softened told me she heard me. “Amanda, you are the closest thing to a best friend I’ve ever had. I do trust you, but things about me are better left unsaid.” I took a small sip from my latte and grabbed her hand across the table. “One day, I hope to tell you.” Amanda smiled and squeezed my hand.

I honestly hoped that Amanda would continue to be my friend; it was the first time in a long time someone actually fought to be my friend and ignored my brutal attempts to stay away. Even though she was a partier, she did have a good heart that I had seen so far.

“I’m glad you feel that way, Lee. Now, about this friend,” she continued. I rolled my eyes and shoved a large portion of the chocolate chip muffin in my mouth. I gave out a muffled, “no.”

“Come on, he is on his way!” Amanda said in a sing-song voice. Here I am stuffing my face with a muffin, and some guy is on his way. I started shaking my head furiously while forcing the muffin down my throat. With a giant gulp, I washed it down with the rest of my latte.

“Amanda, you can’t spring this on me,” I seethed.

“You would have never agreed to it! Besides, you have met him before. You met him yesterday.”

“Please don’t make me do this right now; cancel it!” I could feel my eyes starting to tear up; a full-blown panic attack was in my wake. Amanda had only seen me like this a few times when I had to do a presentation to show people how to put together a PowerPoint in front of her entire floor. That was a tremendous mess.

“OK, OK, chill there. I’ll cancel it. I didn’t mean to freak you out.” Amanda came to my side of the table and gave me a side hug. “I just thought you would get along with him really well. Maybe some other time, alright?”

“Thank you,” I whispered. While Amanda was texting on her phone, I got a phone call. Bringing out my old flip phone, I saw a familiar yet unsaved number, so I knew I had to answer professionally.

“This is Lee Pierce.”

“Yes, this is Keith Summers; how are you?” I let out a breath.

“I’m great, Mr. Summers. How are you, is there a problem with the firewall?” As I was speaking, I could see Amanda smirking into the phone and looking at me. I gave her a quick eyebrow raise to ask what was going on, and she mouthed, “nothing,” and hung up the phone.

“Well, we have a new problem entirely. The hotel’s IT guy isn’t in the building, and we are having issues connecting our computer with the projector. We were wondering if you could come to help us set it up.”

“Sure thing,” I glanced at my watch. “I can be there in twenty minutes.”

“Great, see you then, Lee.”

“What was that?” Amanda smiled mischievously. “Just a client I worked with last night before your party. They need some help with a projector that won’t connect with their computer.” I started to grab my bag and take my empty plate to the trash. Amanda started to smile and sashayed to the garbage to throw out her coffee.

“You won’t have to work too much longer to pay off those loans,” she said, giggling. “What are you up to, Mandy?”

“Nothing, nothing. I’ll see you Monday, yeah?”

“Yeah, see you then, I guess.” I waved and walked out of the café.