Alpha's Eyes [My One and Only]

[Chapter 8] Cause of Failing Relationships

Polly was gone. I had seen it with my own eyes and heard with my own ears. She was no longer with me. If George from the body shop was right, then Polly was in bits and pieces soon to be sold. She was about as separated from me as one could get. What was it about me that made people want to run away at any cost? I know what you're thinking: Polly is a car not a person. I get that, but I also know she felt like a friend.

Until she decided to leave me too.

I sighed deeply, and the strange man behind me laid his cheek on the top of my head in response. Being held felt nice, but I didn't want to get too attached. Nice things didn't last long in my life. I pulled away from his grip. Er, tried to. He didn't let go, but I was able to turn around and face his chest. I opened my mouth to speak, surprised once again that I had to tilt my head back and back and back in order to see his face. His large, broad chest kept going and going and my, what a nice column of a neck. I never really thought of necks as attractive, but his was rather delightful. Finally, with my head craned far back, I met his sterling blue eyes.

Now that I could really look at him without conversation or oven buzzers going off, I realized his face was somehow familiar. Was it the silky dark tresses, relaxed as if each strand were sleeping? Was it the strong formation of his facial structure, looking as if God had constructed his jaw, cheeks, and neck like one would construct a home's foundational layer? Hard, precise, full of substance and endurance. Male . . . just male, except for his eyebrows, lips, and nose. A bit of sensuality there, not so much delicateness, but a touch of tenderness perhaps.

The more I scrutinized him the more familiar he looked. Did I know him? He did not dress like a high school student nor like anybody that I would know. Then again, he was male, which was a very good sign I did not know him. I, Leta, knew no guys and preferred not to.

I opened my mouth to send him on his way when "Wow, you're tall" flew out of my mouth. I honestly do not know how that happened.

The stranger tilted his head to the side, and I was happy to learn he had to tilt his own head rather far down in order to meet my eyes. At least I wasn't the only one suffering.

"You are accurate in saying my height is greater than yours."

Maybe it was his odd choice of words or maybe it was the deep rumble I felt in his chest as he spoke, but he caught me off guard. "Um, yeah. I know I'm accurate. Or whatever. So what are you? Why are you so big? My hands look like barbie doll hands compared to your chest." I was amazed how tiny I looked and felt next to him. Being five foot five inches myself, well, I'm not super short. I'm not super tall either. But I think I'm average.

The stranger brought his face lower toward mine. His voice softened as if he was sharing a secret. "What I am is human, like you."

"Ohh-kay." Weirdo. Maybe his brain didn't grow as big as the rest of him. He obviously wasn't smart. Of course he was human! "I think I know a human when a see one, buddy. It's not like, I don't know, we have aliens running around in human skin." I laughed. He didn't. I blushed as hot as the sun. This was awkward. "That was a joke. I meant are you a football player on steroids or something? Trust me, you're big but not Big Foot freaky big."

He blinked and stepped away from me. Before I considered what I said to offend him, he said, "Come. You are under nourished. You must eat." He left one arm wrapped around my hips and directed me to the floral sofa. "Sit. I will bring your food."

I'm not normally one to take orders, but since he was serving me, the situation felt different. Was he a caretaker or some sort of off-duty waiter? Do waiters make house calls and cook store bought cinnamon rolls?

He eased down on the sofa beside me and placed a warm plate of cinnamon and frosty goodness in front of me. I dug in immediately and only thought of consequences after my mouth was full. I hurriedly chomped the food down to ask, "Did Grams say it was alright for me to eat on the sofa?"

"She didn't say it was inappropriate. You may do whatever makes you happy, Leta."

I frowned. That did not sound like Grams at all. Grams had rules that must be followed. They were short, simple, and occasionally senile, but usually harmless.

I put the roll I was eating back on the plate in front of me. "Where is my Grandmother?" I turned to look around the small living room. Her birds were missing, and this time the change alarmed me. I don't understand why she would leave me after an accident I didn't remember. Was I too sick for her to care for? If I had been, then why wasn't I put in the hospital? How bad of a car crash was this? Polly didn't survive. Did I? Am I dreaming?

"Your grandmother has decided to move out, though I made sure she stayed in the neighborhood, for your sake. She is living across the street at Mrs. Romerson's house," the guy said plainly. His eyes stared intently at the cinnamon rolls on my plate and nudged my arm in an attempt to get me eating again. I pulled my arms away from him and settled my hands in my lap.

"For my sake? My grandmother wanted to leave me?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I had one accident that I couldn't remember and the only person I knew in this city decided the best thing to do was abandon me.

"I assure you it's not your fault, Leta."

"No? Who else is to blame? You don't have to lie to me to get me to feel better. Sometimes a person should feel bad. I didn't want to kick Grams out of her house. If she asked I would have left." I have no idea where I would have gone. I would have found a way to make it work. I think.

"Your grandmother doesn't understand me. She doesn't want to be near me, but I refuse to be apart from you."

I squinted at him. "What?" I didn't understand what he was talking about.

"You were injured in the accident, Leta. You needed my care. I've been living with you for the past week and ensuring your safety."

I thought it through for a moment. "So my grandmother left because of you?" He nodded. "But the only reason you're here is because I am here?" He nodded again. I threw my hands up in the air and burst up from the couch. "See! I am at fault. If I wasn't here, then you wouldn't be here, and then Grams never would have moved out. Gah! I hate existing!" I shouted. I ran around the edge of the couch, missing the man's hand as he reached out to grab me. I went to run to Gram's bedroom when I stopped short. It technically wasn't my bedroom. I didn't feel comfortable hiding in there. I just needed to get away. I turned to make a break for the front door when I slammed into Augustus.

"Oomph," I groaned as he steadied me.

"Are you alright? You look pale," the stranger commented. I jumped when he laid one of his hands against my cheek.

"Yeah, I'm naturally white...I mean, pale," I stammered. His touch was distracting and possibly destructive. His fingertips were electric, and I tried to maintain control of my breathing. He frightened me. I felt like any moment I was about to get an electric shock, which might very well kill me at this point. He made me feel so many confusing and unwelcome emotions. I had to get away. I wanted to make this situation with Grandmother all right. I had to go to Mrs. Romerson's house. I pushed against the guy's chest, but he didn't budge.

"Would you kindly let me go? I need to go talk to my grandmother."

His arms slowly slid away from me as he stepped back. He tilted his head down in a gentle, almost sorrowful nod. "I wish you wouldn't. Don't talk to her too long."

I raised an eyebrow. Seriously? He was going to dictate how long I could talk to my own grandmother? That was not going to happen. I was going to talk to her until the situation was made right.

I didn't respond to him out loud. I got my flip flops and ran to the front door. I ran down to Mrs. Romerson's lilac house and pounded my fist on the front door. I didn't know my grandmother all that well, but I really like her. She was sweet to me, and I didn't want to ruin the one relationship that was warm and welcome in my life.