by Maise, Ella
With each second it took us to reach the top floor, I could almost feel her drawing away from me more even though we were physically only inches apart. So far every interaction I’d had with her was turning out to be a disaster—not that I was expecting anything different. This was the bed I’d made for us, and now the time had come to lie in it.
Eventually, the elevator doors opened, and I stepped out ahead of her. After unlocking the apartment door, I pushed it open and turned back to look at Rose, really look at her. The quick shower she’d taken had helped with the paint splatters on her face—most of them—but not the fatigue. Her pale skin only accentuated her big and dark eyes and her long lashes. Despite looking like she had been done with the day some hours ago, somehow she still looked strong. She was a determined one and I respected that. Quite. She was clutching the handle of her bag with one hand and gripping her own elbow with the other. She met my eyes and offered me a small and unsure, but pretty smile.
Pretty.
Christ, Jack.
“Please,” I murmured, gesturing to the inside of the apartment with my hand and taking a step aside so she could enter. Just as she was passing me, I reached for her bag, and I supposed I managed to surprise her because she let it go without a struggle.
“Thank you,” she muttered quietly, looking around the space.
I closed the door after her, locked it, and took a deep breath before I faced her again. I was starting to feel like, somehow, the quiet had gotten louder behind the locked doors now that we were there and alone.
“Would you like to look around or would you prefer to see your room first?”
I wasn’t sure if she was feeling up to a tour—I was actually confident she’d want to pass on anything I would offer that would force her to spend more time with me—but I wanted her to feel comfortable since we had two years of this, of us in our future.
“Thank you, but you don’t have to do that. If you could show me where I’ll be staying, that’ll be enough.”
“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to, Rose. For the foreseeable future, this will be your home too. You should feel comfortable.”
“I appreciate you saying that, I really do, but still, can I take a rain check on the tour for tonight? I have to be back at the coffee shop tomorrow morning and I’m really tired, so…”
“Of course.” Walking through the foyer, I gestured toward the staircase to our right and followed her silently as she took the lead. Her hand held on to the black steel railing as she slowly and very carefully climbed up to the second floor. As soon as she was up on the landing, she stepped to the side and waited for me.
“This way,” I offered, taking her to the left. The penthouse I had bought only two years earlier had four bedrooms, three of them being on the second floor. One of the rooms was set up as a home gym. The second, which was my bedroom, was on the other end of the hallway, and the third would now be Rose’s. Just hours earlier it had been way too much space for only one person, but with Rose in the apartment, it seemed to shrink in size.
At the end of the short hall, I opened the door to the spacious room that would be hers and placed her overnight bag just inside before backing out again. Giving me a quick look, she stepped inside and took everything in. I had asked the interior decorator to keep it simple and functional, so there were only a few pieces of furniture in the room: a king bed, a neutral-colored headboard, nightstands, a small sitting area with one soft nude velvet chair, and another chocolate brown one next to a simple white and gold floor lamp.
“You have your own en suite through the right door,” I explained when she didn’t say anything. “The left door is the walk-in closet. If there is anything you don’t like, let me know and I’ll take care of it.”
After looking around for a few seconds, she finally faced me and tucked her damp hair behind one ear. “This is… I think it’s bigger than my entire apartment.” When my expression didn’t change, she cleared her throat and continued. “Everything looks great, Jack. I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble for this.”
“I believe every guest room has a bed and a chair. I didn’t do anything special.”
“Of course they do, but considering your guest room is so massive…” She trailed off. I waited for her to keep going, but she just shook her head. “Thank you. That’s what I’m trying to say. This is beautiful, so thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Is there anything else I can do for you, or would you like to be alone?”
“I think I’ll just try to get some sleep. I…” Pausing, she lifted her wrist to check the time. “I need to get up really early.”
“Everything going okay so far? I don’t want to keep you for long, but did you hear anything from your other cousin?”
Shaking her head, she moved closer to me, holding on to the door between us as if she didn’t have enough strength to keep herself upright.
“A few days ago, she called, but I think she was just curious if I had gone through with it or not.”
I frowned, not following. “Gone through with what? The coffee shop?”
She offered me a tired smile.
“No, she doesn’t really care about that. She was trying to learn more about…us, I guess—you and me and the marriage. She isn’t like Bryan, she rarely cares about things that doesn’t concern her. And so far, so good with the coffee shop. There is a lot of work to be done as I’m sure you saw yourself, but I’m not complaining.”
Satisfied with her answer, I reached for my tie and loosened it, noticing the way her eyes followed my movements. “Good. And you don’t have to worry about Bryan either, there is nothing he can do at this point and if he does, I’ll take care of it. Good night, Rose. If you need anything, my room is at the end of the hall, across from you.”
Straightening, she nodded. “Thank you, and good night…Jack.”
It took me a second to move. I wasn’t sure why I was reluctant to leave, it couldn’t possibly be because I wanted to talk to her more, but there I was just standing there like an idiot. I took a deep breath, trying to think of a parting word so I could leave, but all I managed to do was notice her smell and drown in it. Coconut and some other mysterious fruit I couldn’t quite figure out. It must’ve been her shampoo since I’d noticed it in the car first. I gave up on trying to think of something else to say, gave her a quick nod and walked away from her before I did something stupid. Midway down the stairs, I heard Rose’s door gently click shut.
* * *
For the hundredth time, I checked the clock on my nightstand, and finally when I saw it was four AM and I still hadn’t managed to fall asleep, I sat up. Rubbing my face, I sighed and got up. Not wanting to get dressed and go down yet, I stayed in my pajama pants and put on the grey t-shirt that was already hanging on the back of the chair in the corner of the room then headed toward the black steel doors that opened up to the terrace. I breathed in the cold air as soon as I stepped outside and took in the city.
It didn’t take a genius to understand why I couldn’t sleep, yet I’d still tried my best to ignore the fact that I wasn’t alone in my apartment, that everything was just as it should be. The only issue was that my mind was determined not to let me forget about it, to forget about my wife’s presence in my home. Ever since I’d left her crying in the car, it had been all I could see when I closed my eyes at night—she was all I could see, the look in her eyes. So lost and confused. The fact that I’d practically pushed her—us—into this wasn’t helping at all. Hell, I didn’t even know what to feel anymore, other than guilt that is. I was drowning in guilt. And living under the same roof with Rose…it was helping nothing at all.
Looking down at Central Park as I leaned on the railing, I tried to clear my mind so I could get back to bed and get at least a few hours of sleep in order to actually face and survive the next day and the upcoming days. But, after standing out there for God knows how long, I decided it was a futile endeavor. Just as I was turning around, I saw Rose turn the corner
at the end of the terrace and let out a loud gasp when she spotted me.
One hand against her heart, the other on her knee, she bent down. Letting the blanket she was bundled in hang from her shoulders, she started to cough as if she was choking on something. Without comment, I moved toward her, and before I could decide whether I should try to help her or not, she straightened up. Her face was completely flushed, her chest falling and rising rapidly.
A second later the cause of her reaction became more clear when she opened her fist and showed me a half-eaten Snickers bar. “You almost killed me,” she wheezed out, her words barely making any sense.
“Excuse me?”
“I was dying,” she mumbled after attempting to clear her throat again. Finally regaining her composure, she released a long breath and pulled the blanket around herself.
“I saw that.” Thinking it’d make her feel more comfortable, I turned away from her and faced the city in front of us.
After another deep breath and a cough, she took the last few steps to stand next to me. “It’s getting chilly,” she commented quietly, and I automatically glanced down at her feet. She was wearing socks, but she was resting one of her feet on top of the other.
“You might want to wear thicker socks,” I commented, and her gaze followed mine down to her feet and she shifted in place. “But, yes, the weather is changing. You couldn’t sleep?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her look up at me and shake her head. I kept my eyes on the city.
“Nope. You couldn’t either?” she asked, filling the silence between us.
“I tend to wake up early.” That was what I was telling myself, and I certainly didn’t want her to think I was struggling with having her in my space.
She hugged the blanket tighter.
“I hope your bed was comfortable.”
Another quick glance at me. “It was. It’s really comfortable and big. It’s my first night here and it’s a strange place, you know. I thought I heard something when I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep.”
“I understand.” I didn’t prod for more details, but she kept going.
“I’ll get used to it. I did manage to pass out for two hours—I was too tired not to—but then I woke up and my stomach decided it was a good time to remind me that I hadn’t eaten anything in twelve hours, so…” Lifting her hand from under the blanket, she showed me the remaining few bites of her candy bar. “Here I am with the Snickers I found in my bag. I’d give you a piece, but…”
“I think I’ll live. You should’ve told me you were hungry when we first came in. We do have a kitchen downstairs.”
I glanced at her then and she looked up at me with a smile. “A kitchen? What a novelty. As tempting as that sounds, if I eat anything more than this, I’ll stay up all night and I won’t be able to do anything tomorrow. I need to start getting ready in a few hours anyway, so this will hold me over. Plus, nothing beats chocolate.”
“You should go back to bed then.”
“I will,” she murmured, agreeing easily. “I’ll go back inside in a few minutes.”
I nodded, but I knew she couldn’t see me; she was watching the night sky. We fell into another long stretch of silence and, not sure what I should do, I crossed my arms against my chest and leaned back against the wall at the same time she moved forward and propped her forearms on the railing.
“The lake looks beautiful from up here,” she whispered. Glancing at me over her shoulder, she waited for an answer. “You must love the view.” I nodded in agreement, and a small sigh fell from her lips as she faced forward again. “The leaves will start changing color in a few weeks. I love Central Park in fall, and the lake is one of my favorite spots. It’s so cool that you can see it from here. Do you have a favorite spot, Jack?”
“In Central Park?”
“Yes.”
As the loud sound of sirens filled the night, I took a few seconds to answer so I wouldn’t have to raise my voice. All bundled up in her blanket, she faced me, ready to hear my answer. She was definitely an insistent one, my wife.
“I never thought about it. I guess the lake is all right.”
She arched an eyebrow and just stared at me.
I returned her stare. “Is there anything I can help you with at the coffee shop?”
She cocked her head and studied me as if she could figure me out if she only looked hard enough. I had no idea what she was thinking. Not only that, I had no idea what I was doing out there, pulling her into more conversation when I’d decided the moment after we’d said I do that I didn’t want to get too close to her. The only thing I had to do was keep reminding myself that this was going to be a business deal and nothing more.
“You already helped. If it wasn’t for you, it would’ve never happened. When I got Gary’s permission to use the space and we signed that contract, I started ordering the furniture, the machines, and all the other bits and pieces I’ll need. I knew it would take time for everything to get here, so I thought I was being smart. When…Gary and Angela passed away, I completely forgot about the whole thing. Then things started to arrive, but I no longer had a coffee shop to put them in, so I had to rent a storage place for the items from the companies that couldn’t hold my orders for the foreseeable future, like the chairs. Some things I bought were from sales and other deals, so they wouldn’t cancel my orders, either. When I came to your office that day, I had no hope of things going my way. I was on my way to another job interview.”
Uncomfortable with her admission, I shifted in place and cleared my throat. Before I could stop her, she kept going. Not only was she insistent, she was turning out to be quite the talker.
“So, as weird and awkward as this marriage is and probably will be for quite some time as we get used to having each other around, I’m really thankful for it. I know we made a deal and obviously it’s not gonna be a one-sided thing, but I’m still very thankful that you decided not to get a divorce.”
“You don’t have to keep thanking me. It’s a business deal. I’m getting a free property out of this. We’re both benefiting.”
Her eyes steady on me, she nodded and rearranged the blanket on her shoulders. “I know. I just wanted you to know the details, too.”
I already knew the details surrounding her situation, but I didn’t think it would be wise to let her know that.
“Why do you want it then? What are you planning on doing with it once our deal runs its course?”
I didn’t know how to answer that question, so I took the easy out.
“I rather not share.”
“Oh. Okay.”
When I didn’t comment further, she took a deep breath and looked toward the corner where she had appeared from. After giving Central Park another quick look, she sighed. “You probably want to be alone, so I’ll just go back to my room. Tomorrow is gonna be a long day of painting anyway. Good night, Jack.”
I watched her in silence up until she turned her back to me and took a few steps away. Sighing, I straightened up from the wall and took her spot at the rail. Turns out I didn’t like putting that hurt look on her face. Raising my voice, I asked, “You think you’ll be able to go back to sleep?”
“I don’t think so, but I’ll rest a bit.”
I’d thought as much. I didn’t think I was gonna get any sleep either. How are you handling their death?” The question rolled off my tongue before I even thought about what I was going to say to keep her out on the terrace for longer. So much for not wanting to talk to her.
The amount of time it took for her to reappear at my side was unmistakably shorter than the time it had taken her to walk away.
“Can I be honest?” she asked into the night as I studied her profile.
“Usually, I prefer people lying to me, but if you insist…”
That earned me a side-eye look.
“I’m not sure exactly how I feel,” she responded finally. I thought I heard a small smile in her voice when she started to speak, but I
didn’t know her enough to be sure. “Obviously, I’m sad about it. That’s not what I mean, but it just doesn’t feel real. We didn’t talk every day, or even every week, after I turned eighteen, I moved out of their house and after that barely even saw Angela. That’s how she wanted it anyway. But, I talked to my uncle about once every two weeks or so, and sometimes he even had enough time to have lunch with me. He always seemed to tolerate having me around a bit more. Since you worked with them before, you probably already know this story, but they took me in when I was nine. My dad had just passed away. Cancer. And even though Gary and my dad were only half-siblings and they hadn’t been in contact for more than fifteen years, Gary agreed to become my guardian.”
“What about your mom?”
“I don’t remember her. She left us when I was two. I believe they looked for her, but from what my uncle told me she had disappeared. Maybe changed her name, who knows. So they took me in. I can’t say they were always nice to me, I remember too many nights I’d cried myself to sleep, but at least I didn’t go into the system. I didn’t have anyone, not really.”
“Your cousins?”
“Bryan and Jodi. Ah. I think they just took their cues from Angela and stayed clear. They’re just a few years older than me, yet they barely talked to me. I was the very unwanted and bothersome niece.”
I was watching the park when she started her story, but my eyes went back to her when I felt her gaze on me.
“That was probably a little more personal information than you were looking for.”
“It’s okay,” I replied simply, not giving her anything else. “I think for the marriage to look believable to everyone around us, we need to know personal details like these.”
“Okay then. To give a more definite answer to your question: I’m doing better—not great, but better. There are days I wake up and completely forget it happened because they haven’t really been super involved in my life for a long time, but I think it’s okay to admit that I have days where I miss hearing my uncle’s voice.” I heard a small chuckle and genuine happiness in her next words. “He used to read me bedtime stories for a few years in the beginning, once or twice a week. If you know him at all, you also know how unlike him that is, but he worked pretty hard and it was the only time I’d get to see him. He was always a little gruff about it and tried to read super quick as if he was racing against time, but then he’d get into the story and read longer than he had promised. I used to really look forward to that when I was little. ‘I only have ten minutes for you tonight, Rose.’ He’d always start with that.” She paused, but before I could even comment, she turned the tables back onto me. “What about your parents? Are they alive?”