Don't Touch Her Act 2: Finding Peace

Chapter Seventy-Five

𝓒𝓵𝓪𝓻𝓪

Violet was sitting at the dining table doing homework, her pencil bobbing back and forth as she wrote.

"You've been very quiet," I commented.

She shrugged. "Just busy right now," she replied, keeping her eyes focused on the paper.

I swallowed, "how is Dominic and Katie?"

Her pencil stopped briefly. "... I haven't talked to Katie in a while. I'm meeting Dominic tomorrow."

I watched her a moment. She stared at the paper before silently wiping at the skin underneath her eye.

"Violet?" I took a step closer, and then she suddenly pushed out from her chair and went down the hall to her bedroom.

I followed and tried at the door, but it was locked. "Violet, what's going on?" I said softly and pressed my shoulder to the door.

I listened for her voice, but nothing ever came through. I opened my mouth to try again but decided against it.

As much as I wanted her to break down and tell me, I knew she needed space. I would never say this to her, but after all we went through together, it hurt when she didn't want to tell me when something was wrong.

Instead, I went into the kitchen, grabbed a broom, and started to sweep, cleaning up the nonexistent dust for the second time that day.

Owen had asked for my phone number as he walked me back to the flower shop, and reluctantly, at first, I gave it to him.

There was a part of me that felt nervous around him - but that's normal, isn't it? And then another part that felt sorry for him. He had things that'd happened in his life - trauma that may be hard for him to talk about - In a way, I thought I could help him, considering I had horror of my own... and then maybe he could help me?

The thought gave me some sort of hope, and I smiled, though briefly.

I continued to sweep around the cabinets and then felt a sudden buzz come from my back pocket.

Maverick.