I was hot and my face was flushed as I finally reach my apartment. Sweat was running down my back and the backpack had grown heavy during the long walk. I set it on the stoop next to the front door, realizing for the first time that I didn’t have my keys. I shook my head in frustration, aggravated with myself for not thinking through these details.
Fortunately I kept a spare key in the tray under the flower pot on the edge of the step, the pitiful plant dead from being neglected during my absence. I carefully lifted the pot but the key wasn’t there. My hands began to tremble as I was forced to accept that the key was gone.
Panic settled into my chest, making it difficult to breathe. Slowly I took a deep breath then held it, attempting to remain calm. Had I used it and forgotten to return it?
Thinking back I tried to remember the last time I had used the key. It had been when Clay had brought me to get my clothes so many weeks ago. Had I put it back? I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I had.
Suddenly another possibility struck me. What if Clay had been here? He had seen where the key was. What if he were still here?
I looked around me nervously, not sure what I was expecting to see. I didn’t really expect him to jump out of the bushes, especially if he had the key.
My hand moved to the door knob. Would it be locked? The car key I needed was on a hook beside the door. All I had to do was open it wide enough to slip in my hand and grab it. Did I dare try?
I had to make a decision. I’d walked so far to get my car, and the keys were still inside my apartment. Having a car could make things so much easier. I could go further away, make it harder for him to find me. If the door was locked, as I expected it to be, then I would need to come up with another plan.
But what if he were inside?
I couldn’t see into the apartment from where I stood, and I always kept the blinds on my windows closed unless I was airing out the apartment, so looking in a window wasn’t an option. I was just going to have to take the risk.
Taking one more deep breath I turned the knob and pushed the door open a couple of inches. When I did I could suddenly hear soft music playing, a peaceful melody; piano, flute and nature sounds in a familiar harmony. The hair on my arms raised as I recognized the music Clay had played for me the first day I had been at his house, the sounds that had soothed me as I took a bath in his luxurious tub.
There was only one reason it would be playing inside my apartment.
This post is in response to the daily writing prompt Harmony and is part of something longer I am working on.
This post is a part of the story about the ex and comes after What Could I Do If the Police Wouldn’t Help Me?