Page 147 - The Houseguest

my loved ones await. I was anxious to get back and begin explaining myself to her.
When I arrived at the beach house, I could tell that Rachel had been crying, not that it mattered to me. Having been left alone the night before without following our usual routine, she looked pale and sickly. I took the unloaded gun out of my bedroom nightstand and unlocked her chains. She was free to move about to clean the room and change the sheets, with the gun pointed towards her. I wondered again if an unloaded handgun would really break the “no guns in the house” rule Karina had established. As a lawyer, I saw that as a technicality and a loophole.
I put food out for her like I would a pet, only it was on her nightstand instead of the floor. I couldn’t help but notice her appetite was less than it had been. When her chores were done, I chained her back up and went into my study.
Sitting at the desk, I began to compose a letter to Karina. My mind was racing with words fueled by my heart. I could hardly write fast enough: My love, my life...
God, how I’ve missed you. Every part of me yearns for you. My arms ache to embrace you, to feel your warm breath on my chest once again as we lie still and silent. My eyes long to behold your sweet, crooked smile. My ears crave the sound of your tender voice speaking my name. If my fingers could only wrap around yours again, I would never let go. The ache in my heart has become more than a sensation; it is now a physical pain that never ceases. It feels like a knife lodged inside my heart that twists to open a new wound each time one begins to
147
The Houseguest by Linda Ellis www.LindaEllis.life