OBSESSED

70

In the end, his need to control me was what had smothered our flame.

I had to continuously remind myself that his decisions led him to that place. Had he never kidnapped me, he never would have gone to jail. He never would have lost his license.

It wasn't my job to imagine a future for him. He had years to sit in prison and do that himself.

In the interim, I had my own life to piece back together.

Eventually, the dull days crawled into months. Eleven months, to be precise. I crawled out of bed, performed my morning routine, fed Foxy, made my coffee.

I dressed for work in slacks and a modest blouse. My desire to look appealing in any way had been nonexistent lately. I could care less if anyone noticed me, much less thought I was pretty.

When I arrived at work, one of the tellers stopped me in the lobby.

"Leah!" he said. "Someone dropped a gift off for you this morning. I put it on your desk. Happy Birthday, by the way."

I stood there mutely, stunned for a second.

He chuckled. "Don't tell me you forgot your own birthday! You deserve a day off, boss."

With that, he walked off to his teller window.

It was true that I had completely forgotten my birthday, but that was the least of my concerns. The last time someone left a gift for me, it had been over a year ago when Jarrod brought flowers.

My stomach plummeted. Breathing a bit shallowly, I scurried up to my office. I shoved the door open and looked around.

The space was devoid of unexpected visitors. I took a long breath and went to my desk.

An aluminum covered tray with a sticky note was placed by my keyboard. The note read:

Happy Birthday, Loca. I know these are your faves so gobble up! We are definitely going out for drinks this weekend.
—xoxo Iz

I could have fainted from relief. Only then did the deliciously sweet aroma of cinnamon hit me. Peeling off the tray cover, I smiled at the steaming cinnamon rolls.

Sometimes, Isabelle was the best. I knew she didn't enjoy baking but she was amazing at it.

I learned early in our friendship that she could make mean desserts and never failed to encourage her—obviously, for selfish reasons. I would eat anything she sent my way.

My day got slightly better after that.

Considering I'd been held hostage in a cabin last year during my birthday, anything was an improvement. I treated myself to lunch at my favorite Japanese restaurant and talked to my mom on the phone for an hour or so.

She tried talking me into going on a cruise for Christmas this year but I wasn't sure I really wanted to travel yet. Then again, maybe being beached on white sand with a piña colada in my hand would be good for my head.

I left work an hour early and stopped by the spa for a massage and pedicure. By the time I got home, I was thoroughly a noodle and did not desire to do anything but finish off Isabelle's pan of rolls and cuddle my cat with reruns of The Bachlorette.