DEPRAVITY : Embry Call

12

I get home and sneak inside. This time, he isn't waiting for me on the couch. He's not trying to catch me in the act. Usually, he keeps tabs on me. He does more surveillance than an Orwellian government. I walk past his room and I can hear him snoring. He only snores when he drinks, and so I imagine he must have drunk a lot. Maybe I will hear about my absence in the morning. Maybe he'll be too hungover about it to talk.

I crawl into the bed in the spare room and snuggle myself under the blankets. They feel cold. I feel like a corpse tucked beneath the earth in a coffin. Every part of me wishes I could be with Embry right now. It's impossible not to dwell on it. I lie awake and ache for him. Maybe it's just love that I'm craving, and nothing special.

In the morning, I get up and go into the hospital. I'm on edge the entire time I'm there. It's a thirty-two-hour shift, which is a long time to be antsy. I'm worried the nauseous feeling will return. I have to remind myself I don't believe Carlisle. It's hard though because Alice seems to know more about me than even I know about myself. What disgusts her so much about my future? It should be my present that is off-putting.

After my shift at the hospital, I make it home and sleep again. My days feel almost like they are nothing outside of working and sleeping.

One night, when I get home, I smell it again. Korean food. I hang my coat off, my keys, and take off my purse. Then, I race into the dining room. It seems Henry has offered me a peace offering once more. I'm thankful that I changed out of my scrubs at work, rather than driving home wearing them. Even though my hair is up in a bun, I look good. It'll be a good date night.

I enter the dining room and see only one plate on the table. There are two boxes of empty takeout, and Henry's plate is already licked clean.

"You're home," Henry says, taking a glass of water and bringing it to his lips.

My spine becomes stiff. I plant my hands on my hips, looking him over, "seriously?"

"Didn't think you would want any," he says. Of course, it's a lie. He knows I would never turn down Korean. All the way from Port Angeles. He doesn't even like it.

I turn around, not bothering to even say a word to him. What he wants is a reaction, so he can call me crazy and blame me for starting a fight when all he did was eat dinner. He knew what time I would be home. He planned all of this.

After putting on my coat, I grab my keys and my purse and head out of the door. I load into the car, and text Embry that I'm coming over. I idle in the driveway, awaiting his response.

See you soon

I back out of the driveway and begin the drive to La Push. I don't need the GPS anymore; the drive is so familiar to me. I don't race, taking my time to get there. Even though I am surrounded by trees, I find myself relaxing. My tense shoulders stretch out. Every part of me feels more relaxed than before. It's storming out as well, a violent wicked rain.

When I finally pull up, I exit the car, not wasting any time. I knock on the door, and Embry is inside.

"Hey," he manages.

He looks well put together, wearing dress pants and a button-up shirt. I've never seen him dressed so nicely. It feels foreign. It's not the Embry I've come to know.

He moves aside so that I can walk in. The lights are out in the apartment, but several candles are lighting up the space. There are a few on the dining room table, some on the coffee table, others on the kitchen counters.