I don't want to move ever again.

After everything we've engaged in, we're still on the couch, Daniel lying on it, me lying on top of him, drawing circles with my index finger on his chest. His left arm is around my waist, securing me there. Making sure I don't leave or pull away from him.

I feel no regret, just a pleasant warmth encasing me. I don't think it even has anything to do with his bare skin still brushing against mine. The clock on the wall ticks by and we let it, damning the world and the horrors outside these walls.

"We're going to have to get up eventually," he says, but doesn't move.

"Would it be so bad if we slept here?" 

The sun has already set and the room is bathed in the last slivers of light the day has to offer. It makes everything look grainy. Maybe I should feel scared that it's getting dark, but without light, there can be no shadows. I'm safe from them. I'm safe from anything while in his arms. Even reality.

"Actually, not at all. You need the rest."

"So do you. The last hours haven't been easy on you."

He chuckles at this. "I admit, it's been a while, but it's good to know I haven't lost my touch."

"Nor I mine." I continue to draw little circles.

Steve had never been fit like this, his muscles had never been hard. Daniel is an entirely different experience. I'm sure the forbidden nature of our relationship is adding to my sense of wonder. It's hard to believe he's as amazing as my mind is making him out to be right now. Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow morning feeling disgusted with myself. As it is, right now, I want to do it all over again. His body looks incredible and moves in ways I never thought possible. It makes me feel different too, like an actress or a model, fit to be with someone like him.

I know it's not real, but I allow myself to daydream.

"I don't..." He pauses and I'm glad.

"We can think about serious things tomorrow."

"How about on Monday?"

"On Monday sounds even better."

He hums and the vibration of it sends a shiver down my spine. "Is there anyone you should let know about where you are?"

Right, other people. My phone is still... I don't even know where it is.

"Not exactly." I guess my mother could call, but she blissfully hasn't over the past few days. My last conversation with her has honestly been enough. I don't even want to get into this whole mess.

"No friends, parents?" He glances down at me, even if it's hard with our entwined position.

"I don't exactly have close friends and my mother... Well, she's a lot."

He doesn't press the subject and I'm grateful. Then, his body tenses and I feel as if the dream is about to be over.

"We should tell your in-laws what happened."

Oh, God, he's completely right. Steve's parents have no idea. Neither does anyone else. His job, his online friends who play videogames with him... I'll have to tell them all and the thought breaks me into a million pieces. It's easier to pretend it didn't happen if it's just me knowing. Somewhere deep inside I felt that as long as I keep it to myself and suffer in silence, the rest of the world would not be touched by Steve's disappearance.

Life doesn't work that way. Life is pain, and mine is coming out as sobs.

Daniel shushes me and tightens his hold on me. I can't help but sob harder and I hate it. What I don't hate is how it leads to him kissing my hair, then my face. I immediately grasp the opportunity to distract myself, sink into him and his affection. At this point, I don't even care if he only wants to sleep with me and nothing else. I'm not even sure I want more from him. This works for me right now. 

We end up not talking to Steve's parents, but having sex again. By the time it get completely dark, we're still naked on the couch. How could just laying with him be so comfortable? We don't talk much. Every time we do, we somehow end up back to mentioning the things we have to do. Things neither of us want to think about. So we stay in our bubble of comfort and nakedness, oblivious to the world. 

But as Sunday evening rolls around, I begin to feel other things. Like hunger and a mild panic over a new week in which I have no idea what to do.

"I need to get into work tomorrow," Daniel says with a groan.

At least he has a purpose. I doubt I can just stride into work and resume my life as if nothing happened. Would the office even be open? But knowing how corporate lawyers worked, it probably will be. Maybe some juniors even came to work today. The thought of it makes me sick.

"What are you going to do?" he asks and I snap out of my bleak thoughts.

"I'm not sure." To be honest, after a full day with just him for company, I feel so detached from my former life that I have no idea what to do with myself. I'm also too aware that the detachment is what could be keeping me together.

He finally sits up, bringing me with him. "We should pull ourselves together." He winces at his choice of words. "And by that I mean I should get my shit together and become a fully functional detective again."

I smirk at his words. It's flattering to know I rendered him not functional. The thought also comes with bitterness and guilt. I shouldn't be able to smirk. As much as it pains me, I know what I have to do. 

If he needs to be fully functional, I need to at least be out of his way. And I know that's not happening while we're both in the same place. I would just be seeking his arms and his body again.

"I think I'll go to my mother's house."

Daniel nods. "That's a good idea. I'll check on you tomorrow morning before I get back into work." And he starts pulling clothes back on.

I do the same, forcing my mind to leave behind the sweet sanctuary of his body and focus on what I have to do to salvage some of my life. My muscles become tense as I put my clothes on and get into Daniel's car.

We're both quiet on the way to my mother's house, my directions taking the form of pointed fingers. When he pulls over in front of pathway leading to the door, I'm a moment away from bursting into tears. But I know, as well as he does, that I can't stay at his place. I shouldn't.

The house is dark and uninviting. I wonder what my mother is doing. Did she go to sleep already? Maybe she's out and about with her nosy friends. The thought is encouraging because it means I can avoid her lectures for at least a few more hours.

"There doesn't seem to be anyone home," Daniel observes.

I shrug and get down from the car. He follows, leaning his elbows on the roof and watching me over the top of the car.

"Thanks for bringing me," I say. My voice is shaky again.

"No problem." He frowns at the house. "Are you sure you want me to leave you here?"

"It's okay. I know where the spare key is." Without giving him the chance to say more, I head for the door.

I don't want to linger or look back because it would become impossible to leave. I don't want to be here. I don't want to have to tell my mother what happened because I'm convinced she will find a way to blame me for it.

I stepped on the wrong toes. 

I should have appreciated and understood my boss more, and not constantly fight with her. That way, I wouldn't look suspicious now.

I should've had a baby with Steve while he was still alive. 

That last one is the death of me, but I can clearly imagine her saying it. That will be the main issue. Not that Steve is dead and I lost my husband, my companion, but that he can no longer plant a baby in me. 

I fight the urge to turn to Daniel. I know he's still there, I didn't hear the car start.

I reach the door and take in a deep breath. Then, I ring the doorbell. Nothing happens. I ring it again. There's still nothing. I know she wouldn't be able to resist the urge to check who was calling, so she's most likely not home. I hate how relieved I feel about that. She's my mother. She's supposed to be a sanctuary. As it is, she's just a pain in the ass. 

Instead of trying again, I head for the dangling plant on her porch and fish the spare key from its roots. As I return to the door, I can hear Daniel's footsteps behind me. My entire body tenses, but if I'm being completely honest, I'm glad he stuck around.

"Mom?" I call as I enter the hallway.

There's no answer, but I didn't expect one. Maybe I'll be lucky enough to sneak to my old room and sleep there without her being the wiser that I'm actually in the house. I could also get something from the fridge. I'll handle her scolding tomorrow morning.

I turn on the hall light and lean against the wall to kick my shoes off. "It's okay. I'll just crash here for the evening." I turn to Daniel who's in the doorway and freeze.

He's staring past me, to the floor, his eyes wide with shock. I frown and turn in that direction, too. The breath hitches in my throat. I can't breathe. My eyes bulge out of my head. My hands go to my throat as if that would open my airways. My chest hurts. And then the smell hits me.

How did I not feel it before? How was it not the first thing I noticed? Unless I'm imagining it because I'm starting at a dead body.

My mother's dead body.

Her frail form is sprawled across the hall between the entrance to the kitchen and that to the living room, her arms and legs at unnatural angles. Her skin is waxy and yellow, the carpet under her drenched in dried blood.

My throat unlocks and I scream. My vision tunnels before white sparks erupt in front of my eyes. I have no idea what's going on anymore. Everything shifts around me. Lights, voices, calls. Someone is saying my name.

I can't focus. I don't want to focus. And yet a light points in my eye and forces me back into the nightmare that has become my life.

I blink and finally feel the hand oh my head, keeping it in place. When my vision finally focuses. I'm left staring at a stranger who continues to wave a tiny flashlight in my eyes.

"We should take her to the hospital for a checkup," the man says, turning off the flashlight. "There have been too many shocks over the past few days. This can't be good for her."

I barely register the words. My eyes dart around the man, searching the floor. I'm apparently sitting in the old blue felt armchair in the living room. It faces the entrance into the room and I can see other men wearing CSI windbreakers milling about. They're blocking my view, but I can still catch glimpse of a pale, skeletal hand clutched around the hallway rug.

My head pounds and I grow faint.

Another dead body.

My mother.

How long has she been dead? How did this happen?

"Ms. Romney."

I startle at the familiar voice. Daniel is next to me, his badge hanging around his neck even if he's still in jeans and a t-shirt. The same I'd peeled off him what felt like centuries ago. He's formal now, frowning, acting as if he doesn't know me.

"Wha--?" I can't even formulate a coherent question.

"You went into shock after finding your mother's body." His voice is so leveled and professional while I'm breaking apart on the inside.

I know he has to. I know that what we did was wrong in so many ways and that if anyone found out, he could be pulled off my case. That doesn't mean I don't want him to hold me, kiss my fears away.

Funny how I never thought that about Steve while he was still alive.

The thought of my dead husbands increases the already irregular rhythm of my heartbeats.

"How...?"

Daniel hesitates, and through his façade, I see a flicker of worry about my wellbeing. It gives me the strength I need not to pass out.

"You can tell me," I say, trying to sound professional and competent. 

And I do feel it on some level, because at least this time, I was with Daniel the whole time. He paid attention to me. He would know if I somehow left the house to kill my mother.

"It was a stab wound to her neck," he says.

I nod, letting the news sink in. Horrible, but not uncommon. I'm not sure why he keeps looking so apprehensive.

"The thing is..." He steps closer, blocking me from view from the others in the room. "There's very little blood."

"Are you kidding? She's lying in a puddle of it!" A dry puddle, now that I stop to think about it.

He shakes his head. "Her aorta was severed. There should've been a lot more blood."

This doesn't sound right and my body reacts before my mind can catch up. There's something horribly wrong here, but I'm refusing to let it sink it, keeping myself safe from the implications.

"It looks like..." Daniel takes in a deep breath. "It looks like she was bled dry."

And there it is. An image of my windshield pops into my head uninvited. I want to scream, and cry and believe that this is impossible. I know what's coming before he even opens his mouth.

"Eva," he whispers. "They tested the blood. It's the same as the one found on your windshield."

👥

Chapter WC: 2,352

Total WC: 23,788

Who's surprised? What? No one? You didn't even get to meet Eva's wonderful mother. Well, I guess you did in some ways. But alas, the mystery of the blood on the car was solved. It just leaves one tiny issue... Who put it there?

And Eva and the detective are not in the best of places right now. Where will it go from here? And what about the shadows? They haven't been around in a while, have they? That needs to be fixed!

I hope you're still enjoying the story. Vote and comment for support!