The Lunacy of Tyler Lockhart ✔️

Chapter Fifty Seven - Past

Past

Tyler

I followed Victoria into her grandfather's house. I wondered how much her grandpa knew of what had happened with us. Not that I cared.

The house was small but had a cozy feeling—sort of reminded me of a steaming bowl of sweet-corn soup. There was warmth and comfort; you could clearly see that in the way the furniture was arranged in the house. Nothing too flashy,

"Grandpa is blind." She informed me we stepped into the foyer. "So don't make a sound. If he knows you're there maybe he'll start asking you questions."

"Okay."

I stepped inside the living area silently and went into the kitchen slash dining area where she whispered to me to sit down on the chair and I complied.

Her grandfather sat facing me, wearing a checkered blue shirt. His dark eyes peered at me from the other end of the table and I started to wonder if he could see and if Vicky was just fucking with me. I stared right back at him, to see if he could hold my gaze.

"Grandpa, I think you've had enough cake for today. We're going to save some for tomorrow, okay?" Vicky called from the kitchen.

I heard the sound of the faucets running, and the faint sound of the television in the background. I watched her tiny form move around gracefully, humming and I couldn't deny how much I liked seeing this domestic side of her.

Vicky wearing an apron, washing dishes, preparing my meals, baking delicious deserts which would be followed by me putting my arms around her, stripping her clothes off, and making her scream on the counter. Then back in our bed. The more I thought of it, the worse it made me feel. It was hard to forget that I wasn't going to be married to her in the next two months.

I had one night. Ten hours tops to convince her to stay with me. Getting overdosed hadn't made much of a difference; she knew the workings of my mind and probably didn't come to visit me at the hospital on purpose.

She discarded her apron and brought a few pills and a glass of water to the table, "here are your medications, grandpa."

Her grandfather popped the pills into his mouth and downed it with a glass of water. He huffed and then said, "Hand me the walking stick, Vicky dear, would you?"

Vicky handed him the stick and I was thankful he was leaving.

He stood up and started making his way towards a door on the other end of the living room. He stopped walking and turned a little, "make sure you give him the cheesecake. Just one slice. The rest of it is mine."

Her grandpa knew I was here.

Vicky stared at me in shock and then laughed, "Okay, grandpa. Good night."

"Good night, Vicky."

"He's wonderful," Vicky commented as we heard the door to his bedroom shut.

"Yeah, he seems cool," I agreed.

Thank fuck, he didn't bother playing twenty questions.

Vicky served a generous slice of the Blueberry cheesecake on a plate and pushed it towards me. I picked up the spoon, stabbed the cake, and took a bite.

It tasted like heaven.

Anything that Vicky baked tasted like that; it was the best thing in the world. I forgot about my problems for a few minutes as I ate it. She stood there looking at me.

Okay maybe, she was the first best thing in the world and her cake would be second best. She was wearing a loose-fitting t-shirt with a cartoon dog print on it and although the fabric wasn't tight, I could still see the round shapes of her breasts, since the time she'd delivered the baby, her breasts had grown bigger and it was a shame that I hadn't gotten to touch them. She was wearing denim shorts below that. Her white-blonde hair was tied over her head in a messy bun, and she looked like an ice princess. She would put Elsa to fucking shame. Vicky didn't have great features, but she was pretty for me. And that was more important.