Exposed

By Natasia Kelley

How much longer was he going to wait for a miracle that was not going to happen? His beautiful dark-skinned woman was never going to do anything else except walk past his home again. Making him long for the moments that they once shared. He’d considered going downstairs at eleven thirty more times than he could count, but three guesses as to how she would react to him waiting to talk to her at that time of night. He had tried to write her a few times, but he felt as if his penmanship wasn't worthy enough for her or that he just couldn't express how he felt in just a letter. The last thing he wanted to do was somewhat pour his heart out to her to find that she doesn't feel the same way she used to.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Dec 3, 2015
• ISBN: 9781329733312

Book preview

Michael stood by his bay window on the second floor of his city townhouse, one eye on the clock on his wall. It was just after eleven thirty-five, that magical hour when most of the traffic died down and the neighborhood in the old downtown area settled in for the night, the quiet hum creeping through the air with the mist from the small stream due west of his home. Across the road he could see some early Christmas decorations, but he knew that the real lighting up would start in about a week or so.

She would be walking along soon. He thought to himself cheering up a little bit.

He shifted the Crimson satin curtains a little to the side and tried to peer down the street a little further, attempting to see her approach sooner, but he knew she would appear around the corner as always, and that he would have no chance to look at her neatly curved and tall form until she does. He looked at his clock again restlessly. Another minute had passed.

He fretted restlessly when the minutes continued to trickle away like dripping water from a tap that didn’t quite close all the way.

And then, finally, she was there. His hands tightened around the folds of the curtain with anticipation as he watched her round the corner , his very being tightening up in want as his eyes followed her hungrily. She was wearing her dark, mid-thigh-length coat, and he could see her somewhat thick shapely legs taking careful measured steps along the uneven pavement.

Her head was bent down, as always, obscuring her beautiful features. He knew everything about her – her skin was chocolate brown. Her hair was also dark, cut in a straight, no-frills bob that reached her chin and was usually tucked away behind her ear. Her arms were always folded across her chest, as if she was trying to get away from the world that surrounded her by climbing into herself as well as stay warm.

The way she looked and how he remembers everything they ever shared she was slowly breaking his heart. 

He followed her with his eyes, knowing her pattern very well. Under the next streetlamp she would stop, look both ways,  bend over to adjust her shoe in the weak yellow glow, and then continue across the street to the 2 story Victorian home right before him. And he would have to wait until tomorrow to see her again. What did it say about him, about how low he’s sunk, that these two minutes of watching this beautiful woman he once had walk down the street was the culmination of all his hopes and dreams? That his every day was spent in a state of endless waiting, hoping, praying, and waiting? He was forever waiting for something but not yet sure what.

He watched her as she stopped on cue, her long fingers busily tweaking at the straps of her shoes. More than anything, he was always, waiting for her to look up and see him.

She got up after a few seconds and his eyes followed her as she proceeded across the street, her pace a little faster now, as if she was suddenly aware of the hour and the fact that she was a pretty woman, walking alone. When she finally made her way inside her beautiful home he pulled the curtains in place and turned around, facing the door of his wide bedroom leaning against the wall.

Deep down, he knew, the longest wait of all was the countdown of years that he spent loving her but hiding from that truth. The years that would mark the end of his miserable existence.

"What can I get for you?" Olivia asked the two men who were sitting in a booth by the window. They were both dressed in similar casual attire – black jeans, dark blue jackets – but she knew without asking that they were cops. They had the restless air of inquisitive minds.

Her shoulders tingled and she forced herself not to twitch nervously. They were just out for a meal, maybe discussing a breakthrough in a recent case, nothing to worry or stress about. Officers came in here all the time