by Banks, R. R.
"Hello," the woman behind the desk says.
"Hi," I say. My voice comes out breathless and dry, and I know she sees my eyes flickering back and forth between her and the road outside. "I need a room, please."
"Just you?" she asks.
"Yes," I say.
She steps up to the computer, turning just enough that I can see the nametag pinned to her chest. Brigitte.
"How many nights will you be staying with us?" she asks.
That question makes me realize just how little I thought this whole thing through.
"Three nights," I say.
I know I can't pay for it. The little bit of money Trevor gives me was basically depleted by grocery shopping this morning, and I don't even have enough left to pay for one night. But I'll find a way to deal with that when I must. This will give me some time to figure things out, and right now, that's all I need.
Brigitte hands me a keycard with an advertisement on its back for a steakhouse that closed a few months ago. She nods toward the single elevator at the back of the lobby, and I thank her before picking up my bags again and dragging them toward the dinged silver doors. As soon as I step inside, I feel safe. The space is small enough that I can see everything around me, and the enclosure of the walls and doors gives me the sense that nothing can approach without me knowing. This lasts only a few seconds before the elevator stops and opens on my floor. The hallway is eerily quiet, and I remember that I only saw four other cars sitting in the parking lot. I can only assume one of them belongs to Brigitte and one more to another employee since I can't imagine only one person working at a time. This means there are likely only two other occupied rooms in the hotel. As I quickly head down the hallway and slip into my assigned room, I don't know if the solitude is comforting or unnerving. As I engage the chain lock behind me, I wonder why Brigitte chose this room for me. If the rest of the hotel is largely empty, I would think she would have assigned me a room close to the lobby, yet I'm sitting here on the third floor of a three-floor hotel, wondering if she might have put the other guests on the first and second floor to spread us out.
I stand in the middle of the room and realize I don't know what to do next. My day isn't mapped out for me anymore. There's no lasagna to make for dinner, or laundry to finish fast enough to where it seems that dirty clothes never exist in the house. I don't have to vacuum or strip the bed. I don't even have to make sure I always have the cordless phone with me, just in case Trevor calls to check on where I am and what I'm doing. That connection is gone.
The realization seems to take all the remaining energy that I had out of me, and I sit down on the end of the bed, suddenly exhausted. Around me, the room is cool and silent. I haven't turned on the lamp, so the only light flickering in comes through a slight gap in the curtains on the window. Which is perfect, because right now, all I want to do is sleep.
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Also by R.R. Banks
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Taking Her
Accidentally Married
Accidental Daddies
Claiming Her
Accidental Fiancé
The Wedding Proposal
Rebel
Forbidden
His Property
Redemption
Desire
Damaged
Accidental Daddy
The Christmas Surprise
Becoming Daddy
Saving Her
Major O