Reduced to Ruin

Chapter 12

It had been four days since my workout run-in with James, and I had been careful not to make any waves with him since. I was sure to be his perfect pupil. Each day seemed to blend into the others, all just as inconceivable as the next. We had breakfast together at 7:00 sharp. We worked out at 8:00, then he'd instruct me to take a shower. Afterward I'd entertained myself until lunch. A couple days he would eat with me, but the other two days I was grateful to eat alone.

I would have the afternoon to myself until James came up to begin dinner. I wondered what he did when he was downstairs and if he worked. So far, it didn't seem like he left the house for more than a few hours at a time. I would even listen at the door, desperate to hear what was going on downstairs. But all I heard was white noise.

I often used my "quiet time" to crawl into bed and have a good cry. I pictured what my dad must've been doing and hoped he wasn't too devastated. We were all we had left to each other. It was ironic that just days ago I wished Helen, the lady he was going on a date with, didn't exist. Now I hoped she was able to console my father during this time.

I also thought of Lisa and what she was going to do about rent. She didn't make enough to pay for it on her own, and I felt guilty she was in such a bad position. Of course, it wasn't my fault, but I felt terrible nonetheless.

Without the two of them, no one would ever notice I was missing. I could've been sucked into the abyss and hardly anyone would miss me . . . Pity party for one, please.

No matter what was going on during the day, the two of us were together for breakfast and dinner. The evenings were a bit different, though. James was always so relaxed after dinner and ready to have fun. I felt like his Stepford wife—expected to be behave perfectly.

One night we watched a movie together, at his insistence. I sat there and played dead, watching "my p's and q's." I couldn't even remember what the movie was about afterward and counted down the minutes until I could retreat into my bedroom. The next night he insisted we play cards.

If the circumstances weren't what they were, the card night would've been a blast. James seemed like a regular kick-back guy looking for a good time. He cracked jokes, loved to laugh, and even let me drink wine. In fact, we went through almost two bottles that night. I would've had even more, but he stopped me after the third glass. I cherished the lightheadedness. Welcome back, dear friend.

After cards, James talked to me about the numerous games that he had downstairs in the closet—anything from Balderdash to Apples to Apples. He apparently was a big game person.

"You like to play games, too, right?" James asked. But he already knew the answer. He knew everything.

I was dragging the next morning. I had forgotten to drink my customary large glass of water before bed and didn't have access to Excedrin. I dragged through our workout the next morning. I didn't want to tell James, fearing he wouldn't let me drink anymore. The alcohol was a salvation for me, allowing me to escape my problems, only for a moment. I welcomed any reprieve, no matter how small.

"You okay?" James asked as I stumbled onto the treadmill.

"Yeah, I'm just a bit tired."

"We did have a late night. We'll have to cut it short next time."


My eyes widened. "Nah, that's okay. I'm fine. Maybe we could just start our workout later next time we stay up late," I hinted.

"Maybe. We'll see." He continued his repetitions with the weights.

I tried to ignore how in shape James was. He was so toned without being too toned, muscle upon muscle. If only he wasn't a felon. I tried thinking of something else, anything else.