(Book 2) This Could B Us

Part 15

I awaken to sunlight coming through the bedroom window, it takes me a second to realize where I am. It's not yet familiar to me, kind of like waking up in a hotel room. I know, even before I look, that Prince never came home last night, or his body would've been pressed tight. After almost a week of that privilege, my whole being longs for the sensation of his skin against mine.

I swing my legs over the bed, and reach for my cell phone, hoping for some form of communication, nothing. Sighing, I make my way to the bathroom, then down the stairs to the kitchen. I get the coffee pot going, and wander the kitchen while I wait. I look in cupboards, the fridge, and the pantry, taking inventory of what's already here. I'm happy to see it doesn't lack for much only more personal grocery items, the necessities are well stocked. I did have to smile at the two jugs of orange juice in the refrigerator, I pour myself a glass while the coffee is still brewing, because it's good for me.

I get my coffee, and since old habits die hard, I shuffle my way through the house to the backyard. I step out onto the porch, taking in the area, I contemplate taking my coffee to the front steps, at least it's maintained out there. I'm still in my nightie, so instead, I sit and stare, arranging flowerbeds in my mind.

I hear a ringing, a phone? It's definitely not my cell. Going back into the house, I follow the noise, there's a phone by the sofa. Lifting it, I expect to hear Prince's voice answer me, "Hello?"

"Good morning, Ma'am, it's Ray. Are you ready for breakfast?"

My voice can mask the disappointment, but I'm so glad no one was here to see my face, "Sure, whenever you're ready, Ray, no rush," trying my best to sound cheerful.

"Alrighty then, I'll see you in about ten minutes," he sounds chipper.

"Ray?"

"Yes, Ma'am?"

I sigh, I can't believe I'm going to ask, but part of me needs to know, "Have you seen Prince since last night?"

"No, he's been closed up in the studio since he got here."

"I thought he might be. Is it possible you could bring him a glass of orange juice?"

"I can try," he sounds wary.

"Thank you, Ray, I'll see you soon."

I hang up the phone and head upstairs, the chef doesn't need to be the one to see me in my silk nightie.

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I open my suitcase, I dig out a pair of yoga pants and an oversized shirt. Pulling the clothes on, I head into the bathroom and pull my hair back into a high ponytail. No reason to dress up if I'm going to get dirty.

I am just setting foot back onto the foyer floor when I see Ray coming up the front steps. I open the door before he can knock, he looks surprised.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, Ray," I apologize.

"Oh it's no problem, here, it's still hot," handing me a container like last night's dinner was in, he nods and turns to leave.

"Excuse me, Ray, what about your containers?" I ask.

"Just hang onto them, I'll collect them later," he waves, hopping into the van.

I take my breakfast into the kitchen, setting it down on the counter. Grabbing a glass of water and a fork, I take a seat on the stool. This smells as delicious as last night's dinner. I pop off the lid to find scrambled eggs, sautéed mushrooms and cheesy potatoes, instantly I'm starving.

This man can cook, I think as I'm taking my last few bites, I'm full. I place the containers in the dishwasher, as well as my glasses and coffee cup, I wipe down the countertops. That done, it's time to get busy in that garden.

My foot touches the first stair, the phone rings, or should I say phones, they seem to be everywhere. I head back into the kitchen, locating a phone, "Hello?"

"Hey, Sugar," his voice, my eyes close, I involuntary make a soft satisfied noise.

"Prince," I whisper.

"Ray just brought me a glass of orange juice, know anything about that?" he chuckles.

"It's good for you," I mock.

"I know."

I may regret this, but I blurt it out anyway, "I told him to bring you a glass," I pause, "I miss you and I wanted you to know I was thinking about you."

"Sugar," he whispers, "I miss you, too. It shouldn't be too much longer. Are you okay?"

"Yes," I lie.

No, I'm not. I'm alone and I'm stranded with no car. I feel like a bird in cage.

"Good, I'll talk to you soon. Bye, Sugar."

"Bye," I hang up.

Talk to you soon? Not see you soon?

I slide down the cabinet, until I'm sitting the floor, the tears come without warning. Pulling my legs into my chest, I stay there sobbing. I feel like a kept woman.