What If

28. The Other Shoe

When he pulled out of me and fell on the bed beside me, he pulled me closer to his body. I cuddled up next to him and ran my fingers over the light sweat on his chest.

I can't believe I just shared my body with someone. And...I enjoyed it. More than anything else.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

He put his finger under my chin and lifted it so I was looking at him. "Beautiful, it's I who should be thanking you. You are so amazing."

Thursday July 23rd
7:45am

I woke up to the most amazing feeling. Someone was kissing my neck and working their way down to my breast. A quiet moan escaped me. Sean. There would be no one else who touched me like this.

I opened my eyes and he was stretched out next to me with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Good morning, beautiful," he said.

"Good morning, yourself." I could tell he wasn't being honest and I frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said and I could hear the lie in his voice.

"Sean, tell me the truth. Did you not--enjoy last night?"

"What? No. Of course I did. Last night was the best night of my life, Lydia."

"Then what is it?"

He let out a sigh. "I was worried you might...regret what we did."

Was he serious? I never thought it would be possible to be with someone like that. I never thought I would even be this comfortable with anyone.

I met his stare so he knew that what I was going to say was the truth. "I don't regret anything about last night."

He kissed me nice and long before pulling back with a smile. "I have something for you."

He got off the bed and I sat up with a smile, tucking the sheet around me. "I thought I got my present last night," I said teasingly.

He let out a deep chuckle as he pulled on a pair of shorts. "Baby, that was for both of us." I watched as he reached into the closet and pulled out a gift. He brought it over and sat it on my lap. "I was going to give this to you after dinner, but we ended up doing...something else. He cupped my face as he said, "Happy birthday, Lydia."

I didn't know how to react to this. I can't remember the last time I got an actual gift. I took in a ragged breath and when I got the paper off, I reached out with shaky hands. It was...everything someone could need who wanted to be a painter. Color pallets, brushes, canvas...

"Do you like it?"

I couldn't speak in that moment. I couldn't breathe. Fear and panic took over me. Memories flooded my mind from my childhood. I heard my parents' voices telling me drawing and painting was for children. That I would never amount to anything. My mom told me I would grow up to be a whore on the streets.

I looked at Sean and I could see he was concerned for me. I knew he cared about me and that's what scared me.

"Lydia? Are you okay?"

"I--I can't-" I couldn't speak. I felt like I did that night in San Francisco. When I ran into Michael and had that panic attack.

The ringing of Sean's cell phone made me jump. The phone rang three times before he got to his feet and answered the phone. "Anne? Yeah, okay. Wait, let me get some paper. Okay, go. Got it. Do you know what this place is?"

I fisted the sheets in my hand as I listened to Sean talk to Anne. This had to be about my mom. My anxiety rose as I heard the hitch in his voice.

"What did you say? Are you sure? Okay. Thank, Anne."

He hung up the phone and his turned towards me. From the look on his face, I could tell this was bad. Very bad.

"Tell me," I said.

He held my gaze before he said with a rasp, "They found someone who matches her description. Almost spot on. The address she gave me is for..."

"For what?"

"The morgue."