Page 47 of Under His Control

“Why not? She’s pretty.”

“She’s too young for me. I’m old enough to be her dad.”

Good news, he’s not with Ruth.

Bad news, he’s not interested in dating younger women.

Why is that bad news to you?

I avoid thinking about the answer to that question and focus on the journey back to the house.

13

Jacob

Ever since Penelope arrived, I’ve been waking up well before my alarm goes off.

It’s probably my mind trying to remain vigilant to the perceived threat in my house. But if I’m being honest, our roles reversed that night she got down on her knees for me.

I’m the threat now. To her.

Penelope is still asleep on the couch when I go to the living room. She’s snuggled up tight under the sheet. I frown at the sheet’s thinness then go over to the thermostat and bump it up.

Work starts in less than two hours. Instead of getting ready for it like I should, I take a seat in the armchair to watch Penelope sleep.

I don’t know why but I like to study her, capture all the small details about her that even she herself probably never notices. I recall what she looked like when she was younger. It’s interesting the way time changes a face, yet somehow keeps it the same.

She was an unsmiling girl when we first met, a shrewdness in her eyes that said she’d seen men like me before. It felt like she judged me in seconds and made up her mind.

This one won’t stick around either.

Sure, I got her to laugh that day, but she kept me at arms length for a long time. She thought I was another guy her mother would toss aside once Alyssa got bored.

Sometimes, I wonder if I really married Alyssa for love or to prove to Penelope I was committed to staying in her life.

Penelope warmed up to me as we spent more time together. I thought we were developing a bond that seemed stronger than the one she had with her mother. Stronger than the one I had with Alyssa too.

Nothing inappropriate. It was pure and good. She wanted stability and trust. I wanted emotional connection and purpose. We both gave that to each other, which is why her betrayal hurt worse than Alyssa’s.

The girl who stabbed me in the back on her mother’s command is gone now. She’s all grown up into a woman with pretty brown eyes filled with genuine remorse.

Do you forgive me?

I want to.

It’s getting warmer with the heater running at a higher temperature. Still asleep, Penelope shoves the sheet down her arm and lets one of her legs slip out into the open. Her sun-kissed thigh is exposed so she’s only wearing a shirt and underwear.

I follow the curve of her thigh like a thirsty man given a drink. Except, like alcohol, this drink is off-limits to me. Out of my reach even though she’s confined with me.

Temptation to touch her comes over me anyway. I imagine myself running my hands all over her smooth skin again then exploring her with my mouth. I rub my face to get rid of the thought and my facial hair prickles my fingers.

I need a shave.

A great idea dawns. Yesterday, I had a barely valid reason to touch her. I don’t have any today, but I could let her touch me.

Eventually, Penelope wakes, stretching and yawning. She freezes when she notices me across from her, a confused look on her face.

“Is something wrong?”