As if to serve as a bitter reminder, the mattress shifted next to her. Deven glanced over as the stocky figure turned, the sheets doing little to shield his naked frame. Justin. The memory of last night came barreling back, the images calibrating in and out of focus like a camera lens.

His call had been out of the blue, like all his calls had been for the past six months since the two had begun this long distance “thing” (could she really call it a relationship at this point?). And since he’d been ignoring her calls for days, Deven had wanted to reciprocate the disrespect. But as pathetic as it was, loneliness eclipsed the stubbornness, and she had answered on the first ring, accepting the dinner proposal before he’d even finished asking.

Knowing his track record, Deven shouldn’t have been surprised when he’d come over straight from the airport feigning jet-lag. Too tired to take her out but evidently not too tired for sex.

Deven was frustrated at his antics. Well, she needed to call it for what it was—downright pissed. One minute, Justin was the doting boyfriend with impromptu gifts and calls. His spontaneity had become a staple and Deven had begun to anticipate arriving home to find him waiting outside, ready to whisk her away to some fancy dinner or event. But then on a whim, Justin requested for his corporate job to transfer him to Baltimore because it was a “better opportunity.” Suddenly, his impulsive nature wasn’t quite as attractive anymore and his decision to leave created more distance between them than the three-hour plane ride. Still, it was clear Justin expected her to go with the flow. His flow. Whether it was loyalty or sheer stupidity, she always did.

Deven frowned as Justin slept on peacefully, completely oblivious to her growing agitation. It was her own damn fault for ignoring her common sense. Now here she was, dissatisfied in more ways than one. On a sigh, she tossed her legs over the side of the bed, suddenly restless and eager for light. As soon as she peeled back the curtains to allow the first strips of the New Jersey dawn to peek through, she immediately felt soothed. And just like that, that ominous feeling was gone, for now. Which was enough to calm her nerves. Thank God. Still, she couldn’t help but chuckle to herself as she looked out at the courtyard of her apartment complex. She was too damn old to still be afraid of the dark.

The apartment was situated in a prime location for Deven’s prying nature. The courtyard was below her second story view, a stone T-shape walkway with benches and picnic tables resting underneath a covered pergola. The walkway was flanked by neatly trimmed hedges opening to plots of gardens that did little to deter the dogs from fertilizing it, despite the sign that clearly read No Dogs in the Courtyard.