Reckless

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The porch light overseeing the front entrance was lit, assisting the moon, which illuminated the home from the night skies. The dwelling was dim and silent; Spencer almost believed the home was vacant, but the shadows displayed through the curtains, the car parked outside the garage — and the security checkpoint — told him otherwise.

Trina and Josslyn rented a flat — constructed more like a home. They have their garage and yard in this gated community that their family approved.

He approached the door, but before he could knock, it opened — revealing the blonde childhood friend of his and her boyfriend. A wordless interaction ensued between the blonde and Spencer as her boyfriend excused himself to start the car.

Josslyn gave a nasty glare as her lips twisted into a scowl.

"I would let you have it, but I will let her do it instead," Josslyn spoke softly through the grit of her teeth as she pushed past him with a belligerent bump into his side.

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If I could give you one thing in my life, I would allow you to see yourself through my eyes. Only then will you realize how special you are to me?

The letter sheet filled with beautiful cursive calligraphy littered the silence of Trina's room as her grip crumbled its edges. The sound of the front door closing followed a few moments behind; it triggered her tears. The tears she held in as her best friend tried her best to provide comfort after the social media posts.

What a beautiful portrait.

Family portrait.

The smile on her lover's face as he and his ex-girlfriend stood together pained her, and the follow-up information gained from her blonde best friend about her sightings of them damn near killed her.

He let her back in — she couldn't believe he allowed Esme to re-enter his life.

The sexual harasser

Her torturer

Her predator

His manipulator

All because she lost her memory. The saliva she swallowed was blocked by the lump in her throat as footsteps made their way up the steps. In a rush, she locked her door and looked out the window, seeing that Josslyn's car was missing from the driveway.

Trina quickly unlocked her phone; her thumbs hovered over the numbers to place an emergency call as Spencer's voice called out for her with a small knock.

The lump in her throat grew larger.

"I know you're there; Joss told me you're home; can we talk, please?" His voice came out soft, almost a whisper. Trina's eyes closed as her head fell backward — she didn't want to see him. It's been a week since they last spoke — granted; he did try to contact her, especially after the petty social media post that Josslyn shared in the same breath as those family portraits.

"Trina, please open the door." He requested it again as a few minutes passed without any acknowledgment. The distress he attempted to suppress became audible after each attempt to get her to execute his request.

Spencer raised his fist to strike the wooden door but stopped himself as it suddenly opened, exposing Trina. His eyes widened at her state; she looked depleted.

"Why are you here? It's late," Her words were raspy, barely audible. "Am I not welcome anymore?" He retorted softly as he stood in the door frame, his hands pushed deeply into his jacket's pocket. Trina shrugged; the action sent goosebumps across Spencer's back. "You seem to have your hands full," Trina paused shortly between her words, careful with the phrases as she replied — even when her soul screamed for her to lash out, she decided to keep the peace.

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