Forbidden Tales : A Three Book Collection by Kent Saffron A

Author:Kent, Saffron A. [Kent, Saffron A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B0B6RPZM7P
Goodreads: 62029223
Publisher: #PrB.rating#4.54
Published: 2022-08-19T07:00:00+00:00

I had a bad dream, and now I can’t go back to sleep. I’ve been tossing and turning for hours.

I pull myself up, sighing in frustration. In the past, before Caleb went away, I’d call him, no matter the time, and ask him to hold me. I can’t imagine us ever getting back to that place.

I feel so lonely. I haven’t felt this lonely since Emma moved in.

Turning on the light, I reach out, pick up my notebook from the nightstand, and open to the last page I wrote on. I thumb the tiny curls of paper around the white spiral where a page has been torn off.

My poem.

Before sending me on my way, Thomas tore the page and kept the poem for himself. He didn’t say anything, just folded it and slid it into his pocket while staring at me.

I shiver under the blanket as if his eyes are still on me, hot and hooded with desire. It makes me aware of the lingering wetness between my legs, how I threw myself at him and he denied me, never even touched me with more than a finger on my chest and belly, a palm on my cheeks.

I’m dying for him. Dying. It’s all I can think about—that, and how immoral this is. With each passing day, I’m crossing more and more lines.

Where does it stop, I wonder. How does it stop? Why can’t I control myself?

I thump my head on the headboard, try to put pen to paper, but nothing comes out. Nothing feels right. I want to write but I can’t bring myself to, so I try to read. Maybe Barthes or Plath will have some insight.

Barthes tells me it’s okay if things are hopeless and Plath tells me to kill myself, so I shut them down.

Then I drag my laptop from the desk and look up Thomas on the university’s website. I’ve seen this page a million times since classes started, but still my breath halts for a moment when I take in his face. Handsome, unsmiling, unattainable.

My eyes home in on his office phone number, the tiny ten-digit number located under his office address. I have seen that number before but have never really seen it, never really thought about it.

I sit up and look for my phone. It’s wedged between the mattress and the headboard. I swipe across the screen, ignoring messages from Caleb, and dial the number. It’s crazy. I don’t even know why I am calling. What am I going to say to him? Besides, I don’t even think he’s going to be in his office this late at night, but I need a connection with him, even if it’s flimsy, even if it’s with his answering machine. In fact, I’m counting on it. I’ll say whatever I want to say and then hang up and go to sleep.

On the third ring, there’s a click, and then his sandpapery voice fills my ears. “Hello?”

I almost drop the phone. “Th-Thomas?”

“Layla?” The creak of his chair sounds.

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