nChapter 16
The steady tapping of raindrops hitting the window mixes with the low tones of a song streaming from my phone. I continue stirring the ravioli and throw a look out at the balcony where I have my pots of herbs all lined up. My original plants are maintaining a steady growth rate, providing me with a plentiful supply of freshness for my cooking. But I’m amazed at how well the celery root and parsnips are doing. Not only did they survive the winter inside my apartment in the small planter box I transplanted them into, but they seem to really like it because they’ve almost doubled in size since my demon brought them.
It’s been almost a year since we met, and we’re still playing this strange game of hide and seek. Sometimes, I would stand out on the balcony, and when I’d look down, he’d be across the street, leaning on the hood of his car. We’d watch each other for a few moments, and then he’d get behind the wheel and drive away. Or I would notice him lurking on the roof across the street, looking down into my windows. We would have our usual staring contest, and then he’d disappear again, leaving me with a thousand questions.
For a long time, those questions left me frustrated, but along the way, I accepted this crazy situation we’re in.
Every time he surprised me with a visit, I learned something new about him. Like last week, when I found him at my door, his shirt sleeve saturated with blood. Another knife wound, on his biceps this time. A straight clean cut right above his elbow, running almost all the way up to his shoulder. I sewed him up at my dining table. Thirty-six stitches. Then, I offered him a piece of cake that Zara had made the day before, certain he’d say no. He said yes. And I found another puzzle piece to fit into the mystery of him. My demon has a sweet tooth. The man ate his dessert before I even put the rest of the cake back into the fridge.
Every time he lets me see him, each time he comes by, I fall for him a little more. And every time he leaves, my heart aches. Little by little, without a conscious thought or even an effort on his part, I’ve fallen in love with a man who is still very much an enigma to me. The walls he keeps between us are more than impenetrable rock. They are a fucking mountain bastion. He won’t let me in. The little things he lets slip here and there, help paint a picture of his life before we met, and some things I’ve figured out on my own. But that’s all I have.