It Wasn't Me

Anne

My thoughts were reeling. I wondered what he was doing in his room. He’d probably be reading a book or… another book. That was Vincent when he was alone.

He should be curious, shouldn’t he?

He felt something that time at the door; I know. So, he should be curious why he felt that way, right?

He may probably pace his room, thinking of why we had so much intimate tension between us.

I shook my head and flung up from the couch. I needed to pass the time. It would be weird when he comes down and sees me staring into space. So, I picked a movie that would successfully distract me from the thoughts of him.

I was heading for the television when I began hearing the rapid dangling of keys at the door. I paused my movement and stared at the door.

Andrew wasn’t supposed to be coming. Did he change his mind? Unless it wasn’t Andrew!

My heart sunk when Rebecca entered my head. She was the one that had the house redesigned, so she should have a key, right?

I grabbed the lower part of t