― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
Sarah Morris
At the very time I needed companionship and the comfort of my friends I chose to isolate myself.
It was a difficult decision but one I felt forced to make. I was the target of Ray Hull and Arthur Reid's attacks and anyone near me could end up being collateral damage. I couldn't risk that.
Even though Nat, Tess and Clare had bravely pledged their support, i couldn't risk their being hurt. I phoned each one in turn and explained I would be in touch with them in a few weeks to update them but for now, I made them promise not to try to contact me in any way.
The most difficult conversation was with Clare. She even volunteered to come and isolate with me but I explained that would place her in even greater danger and I would never forgive myself if anything happened to her.
As hard as those phone calls were, the silence and loneliness afterward were even more heartbreaking. I now understood what ascetics experienced when they withdrew to the wilderness. It was bleak and frightening.
They say demons inhabit desolate places and I had to agree. Nobody ever takes from the desert anything but aridity and monsters―but at least I could take consolation in one thing―those I loved would be protected.
The first three days of my self-imposed exile were almost unbearable. All my basic needs were met―thanks to Grocery Gateway and take out and delivery services, but I was missing human companionship and my fears were heightened in isolation.
At night it seemed every creak of the stairs was amplified to the point where I actually began locking my bedroom door and compulsively checking the security system until I'd exhaust myself and fall into a fitful sleep.
I was also missing my daily jogs and the healthful benefits of fresh air and sunshine. I might have continued on this way for months owing to my stubborn nature but one morning near the end of my first week of isolation Sarah Morris, the detective from my security detail, showed up at my door.
I had made coffee―actually I was having a second breakfast―call it brunch, or call it boredom, but the chime of the video door bell gave me a start.
I grabbed my cell, saw it was Sarah Morris and tried to cloak the excitement in my voice as I called out, *Be right there."
I opened the door and she grabbed my wrist. Not again, I moaned inside, expecting her to put me in a an arm lock and throw me up against the wall.
Yeah, I still wince about that night.
"Your pulse rate's normal," she said, Letting go my wrist and placing her hand on my forehead. "No fever either."
She brought her lovely face close to mine and stared into my eyes. I could inhale the powdery scent of her perfume and almost taste the berry scent of her lipstick.
"Yeah, like I figured," she smirked, reading my response, "your reactions are all too normal."
I breathed a sigh of relief that I escaped reprimand.
"So, why are you here, Sarah?"
"I might ask the same," she smiled sweetly. "You haven't been out all week."
"So, what's that to you?"
"It's my job to check in on you―but I can see you're not sick since you're still checking me out."
I sighed again, not wanting to debate with her on my front porch. "Do you want to come in for a coffee?"
"Sure," she smiled, "Ahmed tells me you serve good brew."
"Welcome to The Fortress of Doom," I deadpanned, standing aside and sketching a mock bow.
She entered haughtily and sat down at the kitchen table, aware I was following her every move.
Obviously, Ahmed had told her more than the excellence of my coffee.
"There are fresh croissants and jam―doughnuts too, if you're interested."
"I'm interested," she smiled.
I coloured immediately. Damn! I have to get my feelings under control.
I thought she'd make a wise remark, but she pretended not to notice. That made me even more humiliated.
She was incredibly beautiful and confident, so consequently, I felt totally inadequate.
"Don't get any ideas this is a social call. I'm on duty―just saying."
"Yeah well, I'm not worried when you're on duty―more when you're off duty, like the other night."
Her face fell as if I wounded her.
I was surprised to see my remark hurt her. I wasn't intending that and felt bad.
"Ahmed has a big mouth," she shot back.
"More like a big appetite," I parried.
We both laughed. "touché," she said, tipping her mug toward me as in mock toast.
"Okay, I was worried about you," she whispered. "Don't let it go to your head."
It was too late for that. A soft word from her was a caress from any one else. I felt warmth spread throughout my body as if I had been sipping wine.