Chapter 4: Chapter 4

LYNN

I steer into Chelsea’s apartment complex, parking right in front of her building. I fish out the key she’d handed me earlier and start my trek to her front door.

As I near the apartment, I notice the door is ajar. I slip the key back into my pocket, nudging the door open and poking my head inside.

“Hello?”

“Help! Help me!” The plea comes from the back. I tread lightly, unsure of what I’m about to stumble upon.

“Hello,” I call out again.

“I’m here! Help me! I’m in the back bedroom.”

I peek around the door and can’t help but chuckle at the sight. Brian is still tied up on the bed. I inch closer and see he’s covered in candle wax.

I whip out my phone and start snapping pictures, then decide to have a little fun. I alter my voice.

“This is Officer Higgins. We got a call that someone was screaming for help?” I say, muffling my laughter with my hand.

“Yeah, someone came in here and tied me up on the bed and raped me,” he says, blindfold still in place.

“Could you describe him to me?” I ask.

“It wasn’t a man! I don’t roll that way. It was a girl, a big girl. You know, like the wrestling type. She manhandled me onto here; she was wearing a mask. Then she put a blindfold on me,” he says, bouncing slightly on the bed.

“I’ve been tied to this bed for hours. I can’t feel my hands or my feet,” Brian says, wiggling his arms.

“So you’re saying a big girl wearing a mask came in here, tied you up, and sexually assaulted you?” I say, struggling to keep my laughter in check.

“Yeah, she was big. Manhandled me, then after she was done, she tortured me with wax.”

I glance down at his crotch area, and it’s covered with melted wax—there’s a ton of wax. This girl made sure he’ll be picking out wax from his pubes for a while.

Then I spot the engagement ring on his chest, buried in wax. I just shake my head. I move closer and yank the blindfold down.

“You stupid asshole!” I say.

“Lynn? What the hell! Did Chelsea send you here?”

“So you’re telling me you got raped by a tiny girl with a tight pussy named Bunny?”

“You already know? Don’t you?”

I nod. “You’re a prick, Brian. I’m here to get Chelsea’s clothes.”

“Where is she? Is she staying with you?”

“That’s for me to know and you to never find out. She’s pissed at you,” I say.

I grab a couple of bags and start stuffing them with all the clothes I can find. Just as I’m about to leave, I go back in, whip out my phone, and snap a few more pictures of his waxed little dick.

Then I start to head out.

“Hey, you can’t leave me like this,” I hear him call out as I walk into the kitchen.

I grab a chef’s knife and stride back into the bedroom. I approach him, brandishing the knife like I’m about to stab him.

“You’ll never cheat on anybody ever again,” I say as I raise the knife, then bring it down to cut the restraints on his wrists. He jumps, then opens his eyes. I toss the knife between his legs.

“Don’t bother calling or looking for her. She wants nothing to do with you. Ever.”

I walk out the door, debating whether to close it or leave it open.

“You want me to close the front door?” I yell.

“Yes, please,” I hear.

“Fuck you, asshole. Do it yourself.”

Then I hop back in my car and laugh all the way back to Chelsea’s new place.

CHELSEA

Zoey and I are at the grocery store stocking up on food when I get a text from Lynn. There’s an attachment. I click on the picture; it’s Brian’s dick covered in red wax. I text her back.

Chelsea

What did you do?

Lynn

Nothing, he was like that when I got there.

Chelsea

You’re kidding me?

Lynn

Nope. LMAO.

“Looks like Bunny got a little revenge after I left,” I say, showing the phone to Zoey. She bursts into laughter, then another picture pops up. It’s my engagement ring, waxed to his chest.

“Wow,” I say.

We finish our shopping as Zoey dashes to the back and grabs two bottles of wine.

“Why not celebrate the new house with a couple bottles of wine,” she says, hoisting them in the air.

I nod and gesture for her to put them on the checkout belt.

After everything is rung up, I pull out my bank card and am about to pay when I find myself staring at the card.

“How much cash back can I get?” I ask the cashier.

“Up to two hundred dollars per transaction,” she says.

“Perfect. I’ll buy five packs of gum individually,” I say.

Once I’m done buying five packs of gum, I’ve officially left Brian $1.09 in our bank account.

Now, that brings a smile to my face.

Zoey and I make it back to my place and pull right up to the front of the house. Detrick comes out and greets us at my car.

“I see you’ve decided to stay,” he says.

“I have,” I reply with a small nod.

“Would you like me to help with your bags?”

“Yes, please.” He gathers all the groceries and carries them into the kitchen.

I locate the pantry and start to fill it with my food. This pantry is enormous; it’s as big as my bathroom at the apartment.

The house still holds remnants of Dorothy’s life. There’s a pantry full of dry goods—rice, beans, fruits, vegetables—all preserved in jars. Detrick catches me gazing at the collection.

“She had a green thumb,” he says. “Every year, she’d plant a garden and can everything she harvested.”

“It’s amazing,” I say, admiring the neatly labeled jars. “She even noted the date of canning.” I’m interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Chelsea, where are you?” Lynn’s voice echoes through the house.

I find her by the staircase, dropping my bags. She’s laughing.

“Can you believe that jerk?” she says, still chuckling. “He was still tied to the bed when I got there. Hilarious.”

“Did he ask about me?”

“Yep. Wanted to know where you were staying,” Lynn replies.

“And you said?”

“I told him it was none of his fucking business. I almost left him there, still tied up. That’s when I snapped a picture of his tiny, waxed dick,” Lynn says, laughing even harder. She hugs me. “Things will never be the same.”

We head into the kitchen together.

“Where’s Zoey?” Lynn asks.

“She’s upstairs, checking out the rooms again. Can’t decide which one she wants to sleep in tonight.”

“Typical Zoey. Anyway, I gotta go. I have that ‘dinner date’,” she says, making air quotes. “I grabbed everything I could find. Let me know if I missed anything.”

Lynn hugs me again, then heads for her car. Zoey meets me on the porch.

“Hey, where are you off to?” Zoey calls out.

“Dinner date with his family. See you losers tomorrow. Don’t drink too much—I want to record all the fun,” Lynn calls back, starting her car and backing out.

She waves from the window as she drives away.

After dinner, Zoey and I decide to relax on the porch swing with a bottle of wine. Zoey’s on my right, holding my hand, her wineglass in her other hand. We use our legs to keep the swing moving.

“Do you hear that?” I ask.

“No. What am I listening for?” Zoey asks.

“Nothing. It’s so quiet. No cars, no horns, no yelling. No planes landing or taking off. Just nature,” I say, smiling.

A few minutes later, a tear slips down my cheek. This was supposed to be Brian and me, sitting on the porch, watching fireflies. We were supposed to be building our life together.

We were supposed to be building a house together. A house with a studio for Brian, because he loves to draw. He’s good at drafting—he even designed the house we were supposed to live in after we got married.

He included an office for me, with soundproof walls so I could write in peace. I usually listen to music on my earbuds while I write. It helps me focus. My parents thought it was weird, but I always got good grades.

About half an hour later, I hear bullfrogs croaking in the distance.

“Do you hear that?” Zoey asks.

“Yeah, I think there’s a pond on the property. Must be full of frogs,” I say. We sit in silence, listening to the rhythmic croaking.

I look up at the night sky. It’s clear, filled with stars. The kind of stars you don’t see in the city. Suddenly, a shooting star streaks across the sky.

“Did you see that?” I ask Zoey.

“Yeah, it was amazing. I’ve never seen one so bright,” she says, still looking up.

“Do you believe in fate?” I ask.

“Fate? Like Karma?”

“No, not Karma. Karma’s what you get when you screw up. I mean fate, like everything that happened today happened for a reason. The book deal, this house.”

“Brian cheating on you?”

“I don’t know, maybe. I just feel like this was meant to be. Everything today just feels right.”

“Then let fate play its hand and see where it leads you,” Zoey says, finishing her wine. “I really want to try out that tub of yours. Do you mind?”

“Go ahead, and let me know how it is.”

Zoey jumps up, kisses my cheek, and says, “Thanks, you’re the best,” before running into the house.

I hear her footsteps on the stairs. I pick up the empty bottle and head back into the kitchen. I put everything in the sink and decide to check out my new office.

I walk up the stairs, hearing the sound of running water from the bathroom. I turn the corner and step into my office.

I stand there, taking in the sight of all the books, then notice a couple of cabinets. I open one to find an old record player and about seventy vinyl records, all neatly arranged.

The first record I pull out is Fleetwood Mac. I carefully place it on the player, switch it on, and gently lower the needle onto the record.

Music fills the room, seeming to come from the walls themselves. I can’t find the speakers, but I don’t care—it sounds amazing.

I settle into my new chair, lean back, prop my feet on the desk, and just listen.