I Told You, You're Mine

By: Heather C. Adams

Finally, the end of the night has come and I stand in front of my locker in the back room untying my apron.

“Ugh” I roll my eyes at myself with the groan.

A pain travels over me again like I was just punched in the gut. I can’t believe I let my friends meet Blade after all those years, finally admitting we were together, only to be tossed out like a piece of trash the moment he got home alone.

A hand grazes the top of my shoulder, and I see it’s my boss, Michelle, coming around the back of me towards her office, “nice work tonight Avery. It’s good to have you back.”

I force a smile, “It’s good to be back.”

“I know your regulars were happy,” she giggled, “ Mr. Porter said the apple pie didn’t taste right while you were gone.”

We laugh together and it’s an honest laugh. It feels good. It gives me hope. Hope that even though there is pain right now, there will be a light at the end of the tunnel… someday.

“You alright sweetie?” she plops in her chair and rolls it up to her desk shifting papers around.

I nod and swallow the lump in my throat, batting my eyes to get rid of the tears. This is why I tell no one a thing. As soon as someone asks me if I’m okay, all the feelings I’ve bottled up try to spill out.

No, I won’t give him that satisfaction.

“I’m great,” I say trying to convince myself. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I close the locker.

“Morning shift, right?” she asks.

“Mm,hm,” the tears were trying to well up again so I didn’t turn around, I just made a b-line for the door.

It was busy tonight, but it was a good distraction…which is exactly why I picked up tomorrow morning’s shift. I needed to stay busy the rest of this summer. If I sat around doing nothing, I’d undoubtedly cry, or wallow in the dark…or who knows what else. So, I choose to keep myself as busy as possible instead.

Whew, my feet.

Luckily the diner is only a few blocks from my apartment because my feet are worn out. The dark streets this time of night don’t usually bother me, but for some reason, the last couple of blocks have felt heavy. Almost like someone has been following me.

I stop and turn around but I see no sign of being followed. The people behind me continue walking around me and I move my gaze in front and behind me looking around. When I look to the other side of the road I see something. A man in a brown petticoat ducks back into an alley.

That was a coincidence, right?

Surely my eyes are playing tricks on me. I squint peering deeper into the dark across the street but see no more sign of movement. Still, the whole thing gives me a weird vibe, so I adjust the purse on my shoulder, holding it tighter against me, and pick up my pace.

Must stay with a crowd just in case.


I slam my door shut behind me, lock the deadbolt and lean back on it, totally out of breath. I was too weirded out to take the elevator so I ran up three flights of stairs to my floor.

What in the hell was that?

I’ve never, in all my four years here, felt like that. I’ve never questioned my safety. I couldn’t see for sure because of the darkness, but I swear I saw someone. No…I felt someone. Even after I started walking again, I felt like I was still being followed.

Tears build in my eyes and I slide down my door, not even trying to hold them back this time. My weeps fill the house as it hits me that I’m all alone. A week ago, I would have had Blade to call and come to my rescue, but now I don’t. So, on top of losing the man I love, I have someone trying to do God knows what to me.

I wrap my arms around my folded legs, pulling them against my chest and letting my head fall into them. I let it all out in my dark house. No one but the moon keeps me company in the tiny place and it feels so, so empty.

I lift my head, looking out my living room window, my sight reaching for the beauty of the stars and the moon, and the clouds in my head part.

I remember the pictures on Blade’s desk!

That bastard has a private investigator following me again!

Chapter 8


I called her so many times I couldn’t count after I got that note in the mail. I text her too, but never got a response until the last one I sent where I told her I was flying up if she didn’t answer me. And to that all I got was a don’t you dare.

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