Aftershock: A Charity McAdams Novella by Elizabeth Storme Page A

stare at the blank TV screen.
    “Sheesh, I was only kidding,” she says. “What’s the matter with you today?”
    “I’m sorry, I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep well last night,” I answer, which is partially true, it had taken me much longer than normal to fall asleep and even then it was a restless sleep, filled with anxiety riddled dreams.
    “Ok,” she says and I feel a twinge of guilt at the disappointment in her voice.
    “I’ll call you tomorrow,” I promise.
    We say goodbye and hang up. I toss my phone onto the couch next to me and exhale slowly. I rub my temples, instantly regretting the conversation with Ashley. The last thing I want to do is argue with her, especially when I know she is just excited for me and doing her best to help me see the bright side of a difficult situation.
    Truth be told, it just makes me want to hop on the next plane back to Seattle and go back to the way things were. It feels like my life is a human game of tug-o-war and I am being pulled between Ashley and Brandon. I miss my life in Washington and with Brandon gone so much of the time, it’s getting harder to remember why I am even here.
    I flip my phone over and check the time. Brandon had said he would probably be home early today, around five. It’s four fifty. I allow myself one more moment to wallow and then push off the couch to go into the kitchen to feed LeeLee.
    At the sound of her food dish, she comes running into the room and skids into the back of my legs as she comes to a stop. I topple forward and grab the edge of the counter to keep from falling to the floor. I can’t help but laugh when I look down at her guilty looking face.
    A few minutes later I hear the click as the door between the garage and the house is opened and closed. Brandon rounds the corner into the kitchen and sets his keys down on the kitchen island, even though there is a peg near the garage specifically there for keys.
    “Hey beautiful girl, how’s it going?” He asks as he crosses the room and pulls me into his arms.
    I hesitate to answer as I debate whether or not to mention the story on TV or my unease after the conversation with Ashley.
    “Cherry? Are you ok?” He asks, pulling back just enough so he can look at my face.
    I nod but don’t say anything, afraid that if I do, all my anxiety and fears will come out in a tangled mess. I also know I can’t fake my way through it and pretend everything is fine because Brandon will see right through my act.
    He cups my face in his hands and his eyes grow wide with concern. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
    “It’s nothing,” I say breaking our eye contact, dropping my eyes to his chest.
    “It’s obviously something. Is this about the pictures?”
    “Ashley called, she said they are all over the internet and there was a thing on TV too,” I answer, meeting his eyes again. “I know it shouldn’t be a big deal. I don’t know why it’s bothering me so much. It’s not like it’s unexpected. I guess I just didn’t think it would all be so…public…so quickly.
    “The way Ashley made it sound is like I should be happy about all the attention. Maybe she’s right. Most girls would probably love it, all the fancy dresses, posh dinners, having their picture taken for everyone to see that she’s dating a movie star. Maybe that would be better for you, someone who can deal with all of this. It just makes me feel like I’m being hunted or something.” 
    Well, there it is: the tangled mess.
    “Baby,” he says, his voice low. “Please believe me when I say that there is no way I would rather be with anyone else. Ever. The fact that you’re different and not all about the flashy stuff and attention is just one of the many things I love about you.”
    He pauses to consider my face, as if trying to decide whether or not I believe him or if I need more convincing before continuing. “I’m sorry about last night, had I known it was going to be like that I would have picked another