Blythe by Kat Savage

Author:Kat Savage
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kat Savage

MONROE

My alarm sounds sharply at six, just like every other morning. Only this time, I don’t immediately jump up. Why would I? The reason I get up so early is here in my bed. Turning it off, I roll over, searching the empty sheets for Blythe but she’s nowhere to be found. My eyes search the room, but nothing seems out of place. I listen for a moment and hear nothing.

After pulling on my shorts, I slip into the hallway and listen again. There’s noise in the kitchen, so I follow it. The aroma of black coffee hits my nose, along with what I think is bacon.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” Blythe says, her back to me.

“You’re cooking?” I ask.

“Can you not sound so shocked?” She laughs. “I happen to be an excellent cook.”

“Since when?”

“Since always,” she retorts. “Just because I don’t do it very often anymore doesn’t mean I can’t.”

I take a seat at the bar after pouring myself a cup of the freshly made coffee. Taking a sip, I can confirm it’s not burnt. It’s pretty good, not weak. Just like I like it.

Blythe slides a plate in front of me,. It’s full of scrambled eggs, bacon, and biscuits. I didn’t even realize I had all the ingredients for a whole breakfast. I’m usually on the go, grabbing a couple of pre-cooked hard boiled eggs from the fridge along with a granola bar. Then I’m out the door. But this. I could get used to this.

“Good, right?” she asks, shoving a bite in her mouth.

“Yeah,” I say. “Very good, thank you.”

A few more bites in, I decide we can either let this get stale and awkward or we can embrace it. “So, you want to do something today? We could go somewhere, maybe?”

Blythe’s expression turns from content to nervous as the question rolls off my tongue. She sets her fork down gently, taking a sip of orange juice. “Actually, I’m going to be pretty busy today. Not the kind of busy I’ll need you for. I mean busy at my apartment.”

“Doing what?” I ask. I take another bite of bacon, under the assumption we’re still having a normal conversation.

“This and that,” she says.

Blythe Davenport. The woman who’s told me every intimate detail of her life, is suddenly vague and mysterious? I don’t think so. My assumptions get overturned when she won’t even meet my eyes, and understanding sets in. She has regrets. Just like I knew she would.

“Okay,” I say. “I get it.”

She says nothing, doesn’t even try to defend herself. I guess I was just something to do; a little distraction from her perfect life.

After a few more bites, I excuse myself, opting for a shower to wash away all this negativity. I’m tainted. Or at least that’s how I feel. Something tells me after this I’m going to have to look for a new job, even if it’s by my decision. It was unprofessional of me, anyway. You don’t sleep with clients, security details. You just don’t, no matter how badly you might want to.

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