Chapter 20 There was only one time of day when I could get things done: the three hours in the morning that Rosie was at preschool, and she only went three days a week. I'd drop her off shortly before eight and pick her up at eleven. The time always flew by. Usually, since I was already out, after dropping her at school, I'd treat myself to a latte from the café, bring it home, and enjoy twenty minutes of me time before tackling whatever household things were on my long to-do list-anything from bills to laundry to cleaning up the mess my daughter had made the previous night. But those twenty minutes sitting in the sunroom with my latte, closing my eyes occasionally and letting the sun from the windows beat down on my face? Heavenly-and much needed. Although, as of the last six days, my breaks hadn't been as relaxing as they once were. My time alone was now consumed by an urgency to go online. It was a constant battle to stop myself from seeking the information I wasn't ready to handle. I knew eventually I'd give in. It was only a matter of time. But I wasn't ready to face the truth. As long as I was ignorant, there was a chance Dorian was alive. And I needed him to be alive, even if it was just an illusion. This particular Wednesday morning after my relaxation time, I'd turned the living room upside down, vacuuming under the couches and washing the windows. Anything to keep from going online. When I looked at the time and saw that I only had a half hour before I needed to go get Rosie, I started to move faster. Once she came home, I'd make her lunch. We'd do some activities together, and then before I knew it, I'd need to start preparing dinner so it would be ready when Casey got home. Whoever said being a mom wasn't a full-time job needed their head checked. The doorbell rang, prompting me to shut off the vacuum. Sometimes the mailman would ring the bell if he left a package at the door. No one else came by at this time of the day, so I assumed it was him. But when I opened the door, the predictable day I'd imagined before me no longer existed. Time no longer existed. If I hadn't felt my heart pounding, I might've doubted I was still alive-perhaps I'd died and gone to some twisted version of the afterlife. A place where everything you've suppressed suddenly meets you on the other side, forcing you to face it. Am I dreaming? Hallucinating? "Hi, Primrose..." I managed to utter his name. "Dorian..." "Hi," he said again. "You're...alive..." My lip trembled. "Yes." He reached out to cup my face, a look of wonder in his eyes as if he were also in a dreamlike state. I willed my foolish heart to stop beating so fast for him. But I'd thought he was dead. Regardless of what he'd put me through, I was ecstatic to find out Dorian was alive. But then fear took over, and my protective instincts shut everything down. I pulled away. "You shouldn't be here." "I know this is a shock." "Shock is not a strong-enough word." I shook my head. "How. Why...are you here?" "It's hard to explain." "How did you know where I live?" "It's not that hard to find someone these days. Simple internet search." Of course. Not everyone specifically avoided Google like I had for the past five years. It was a miracle I remembered the time. "I have to go pick up my daughter from preschool. I can't be late." I paused. "I...have a daughter now." "I know," he said softly. "You do?" My eyes widened. "How would you know that?" "I was hoping we could talk." He looked down for a moment. "I'm sorry I chose a bad time to come by." I shook my head. "I don't know..." Silence filled the air. "Primrose, look me in the eyes, please." I realized I had been looking at the floor. I was afraid of what looking into his eyes would do to me, what it would cause me to remember. And sure enough, when my gaze met his, a feeling of torturous nostalgia came over me. The same deep sadness that had been in his eyes the last time I'd seen him was there now. "Please..." he breathed. "I know you don't owe me anything. But I need to talk to you." He reached into his pocket and handed me a sticky note. "I wrote down where I'm staying here in town, along with my number. It's not the same one I used to have. Not that you'd still have the old one. I wouldn't blame you if you'd completely erased me in every possible way." He exhaled. "I'm not leaving Cincinnati, though, until I've had a chance to speak with you. I'll wait as long as necessary until you have a moment to talk to me." What the hell is this about? "I'll see what I can do," I finally said. "Thank you." He nodded and took a few steps back. "I'll let you go get your daughter." I watched blankly as he got into his car and drove away. After he was no longer in sight, I closed the door and leaned my back against it, attempting to catch the breath that felt like it had been sucked out of my body. I was confused and scared about what he could possibly have to say to me. The list of questions I had for him was certainly long. The alarm on my phone went off, scaring the crap out of me. I always set a ten-minute warning in case I lost track of time, never wanting to be late for preschool pickup. I quickly entered Dorian's number into my phone, along with the address on the sticky note, before heading out to my car. I took in some of the cool September air, hoping it might calm the turmoil inside me. The tree-lined ride to the preschool felt like a blur, as my thoughts spun out of control. When I got to the pickup line, I didn't even know how the hell I'd gotten there. Today was Wednesday. I decided the only time I'd be able to meet with Dorian was two days from now, on Friday. That was the next time Rosie had preschool. Curiosity might kill me before then, but I didn't have the kind of life where I could just leave the house whenever I wanted to on a whim. Not to mention, Dorian didn't deserve to have me jump at the chance to meet him. He wasn't dead after all. Therefore, I could go back to being angry, since I no longer had to mourn him. I almost laughed at that. You're ridiculous. As I sat in the pickup line, waiting for Rosie to appear with her teacher, my mind continued to race. Dorian had looked so handsome. Perhaps my memory of him had faded just enough to make me forget exactly how stunning he was. He had the same gorgeous mane of black hair, the same beautiful face, and the same amazing smell. And he also had the same ability to make me feel things I knew I should be forgetting. The back door of my car opened, and I forced a huge smile as Rosie arrived. "She had a great day," her teacher said. "That's awesome!" Rosie handed me a picture she'd drawn. It looked like a colorful fish. "So nice, honey. You're really getting good at drawing. Good job." "She's on her way to becoming an artist like her mom." Mrs. Harrington winked. After the teacher shut the car door, I looked in the rearview mirror at Rosie's little face. Her cheeks were red. She loved school, but she also looked forward to coming home each day. Such a happy girl. My daughter was an absolute joy. "Are you hungry?" I asked. She jumped in her seat. "Yes!" I put the car in drive and drove off. "What do you feel like for lunch today?" "Peanut butter and fluff!" "That's very sugary. How about peanut butter and banana?" She pouted. "Fluff!" "I'll give you a little fluff and some banana on a peanut butter sandwich, okay?" "Okay, Mommy." She smiled. My sweet baby, oblivious to the emotional dilemma pummeling her mother right now. She deserved better than to be in the middle of this. After we got to the house and parked, I looked around my quiet neighborhood street, feeling paranoid. Dorian knew where I lived. Had he been here before today? It freaked me out that he'd been staying nearby, and I hadn't known. How long had he been here? I supposed these were all questions I needed to ask him on Friday. I put on a TV show for Rosie in the living room, and I realized I'd left the vacuum out, since Dorian showing up at my door had distracted me from putting it away. I returned it to the utility closet and went to the kitchen to make her sandwich. As I spread peanut butter on two slices of whole wheat bread, my mind wandered. Before I knew it, I'd been spreading the peanut butter around for three minutes, and I'd nearly ruined the bread. I added a little marshmallow fluff and layered it with half a banana, thinly sliced. I washed a small bunch of red grapes and cut each one in half, since I worried Rosie could choke if I left them whole. I could be so responsible in some aspects of my life, yet so very irresponsible in others, like-I don't know-planning to visit an ex-boyfriend while my daughter was at school on Friday. I cringed at the thought. After carrying the food over to Rosie, I sat and watched her eat as she enjoyed her video. If I was physically present right now, that might make up for the fact that my mind was still on Dorian. I gently patted her hair as she devoured the sandwich. "What should we have for dinner tonight?" I asked. She answered the way she always did. "Spaghetti." "Will you eat little trees with it if I make you spaghetti?" Little trees was what we called broccoli around here. She nodded. "Deal, then." Spaghetti was likely all I could manage tonight anyway. If tasked with cooking anything that required me to follow directions, I'd ruin the whole thing. I needed to give myself grace for now. Maybe tomorrow night, too. Or as long as whatever the hell was going on with Dorian lasted. As I took Rosie's plate back to the sink, I realized I hadn't formally committed to meeting him. So there was still a chance I could back out. But that wasn't what I wanted. I reached for my phone and pulled up his name before I could change my mind. Would you be available to meet with me Friday around 8:15 in the morning? His response was almost immediate. Dorian: Absolutely. Thank you for making time for me. Where would you like to meet? Primrose: I can come to the address where you're staying. Going to his place felt even more forbidden, but there was really no other choice; being in public with him would be too risky. Dorian: Great. Primrose: See you then. Dorian: See you Friday. Letting out a long exhale, I pushed the phone away, forcing myself to return to life at hand. I called to Rosie. "Wanna go play outside?" "Okay!" I grabbed our jackets, vowing not to think about Dorian again until I had to. In a romance-themed observation show, several participants undergo a series of interactions and conflicts filled with love, misunderstandings, and power struggles. In the end, one couple rises to over...