by Holly Rayner
I chuckle. “It’s what I’d want to do, too, if I was in your place. I hope you like lavender?”
She nods. “I love it. It’s so relaxing.”
“I’ll give you a moment alone,” I say.
I leave the bathroom and make my way downstairs.
The bar is stocked with bottles of beer, water, and soda. I spot one of my favorite imported beers, a German brand, and open it. Then, standing in the same place that Phoebe had just moments before, I look down at the city. I sip my drink, and finally feel the events of the day catch up to me.
I’m going to be a father.
A sensation of intense contentment and peace comes over me. I know that this is what I want. It feels so right. Yes, there are complications—it is far from ideal that Phoebe is facing criminal charges. But a part of me is able to look past that, to a possible future that stretches out before Phoebe and me.
My parents loved each other. I remember knowing that at a young age. My mother always looked at my father with an expression of adoration, and my father treated her like the queen that she was. I never saw anything but complete respect and trust pass between them.
After losing my parents, I began to examine the relationships of other adults in my life, looking for that same mutual respect and love.
I soon learned that it was extremely rare. I saw so many couples that resented each other, and who fought constantly. I saw betrayals, power struggles, and even hatred between couples. I began to think that true love didn’t exist. The memory of my parents’ relationship faded, until I doubted that it ever existed in the first place.
But then I met Phoebe.
I smile and sip my beer. The city lights twinkle below. I recall the sensation that filled my body when I first saw her.
I was in awe of her, even before I knew one single thing about her. It was like somehow, my heart recognized her.
I’m sure I look at her now like my father looked at my mother: with complete and utter wonder.
She’s magnificent.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever meet a woman like her. But not only did I meet her, she’s also pregnant with my child.
I finish the beer and set the bottle down on a side table. Then I hike up the stairs and knock softly on the bathroom door.
Knowing that she’s here—so close to me, after all this time—is filling me with temptation. She may be enjoying the quiet after the ordeal she’s been through, but I want to see her so desperately that I have to risk interrupting her solitude.
“Luca?” she says, in response to my knock.
I open the door just a crack. “It’s me,” I say. “Can I come in?”
“Of course,” she says. “I was hoping you would.”
I enter the steamy, scented room. The candlelight flickers off of the mirrored walls. Phoebe is chin-deep in the bubbles. Her arm rests on one side of the tub, her wet hair piled on top of her head.
She smiles peacefully. “This is exactly what I needed,” she says.
The tub has a white tile platform around it. I sit on the edge, next to her. “Good,” I say. “I hoped that was the case.”
There’s a stack of thick, white washcloths a foot from me. I reach for one and dip it into the hot water. Then I inch to the side so that I’m just behind Phoebe’s back.
I place the washcloth on her bare shoulder, which is just barely visible amid piles of tiny white bubbles.
Phoebe emits a contented sigh and bends her head forward. “Oh… that feels nice,” she says. “My neck is so stiff.”
She rolls her head to one side, then the other.
Encouraged, I roll up my sleeves and then submerge the cloth again. I apply slight pressure as I run the cloth over Phoebe’s shoulder. I move to the other shoulder, and then her back.
The candlelight is soft. The flickering flames are multiplied by the many mirrors in the bathroom, the scent of lavender heavy in the air. I quickly lose myself in the sensations of moving the cloth against Phoebe’s skin.
After some time, she reaches for my hand. She holds it for a moment, and then turns her head and kisses the top of it. Then she turns her head and looks at me.
Her skin is glowing. She looks so relaxed, and beyond beautiful.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
I want to lean over and kiss her. My whole body yearns for her. But I resist.
“Phoebe, you deserve so much more than this,” I say.
I want to tell her that in my eyes, she’s a queen. An angel. I want to tell her that I’m falling for her. I want to tell her about my parents, and the love that they shared. I want to tell her that when I’m with her, I believe in love like that again.
I know that there will be time for us to talk. Right now, I see the fatigue in her eyes, and I know that I have to help her to bed.
There is one thing that I have to say, however.
“I thought of you so many times, after you left,” I tell her. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, actually. I just want you to know how happy I am that you called me. No matter what is going on outside the two of us, I just want you to know how glad I am to be here with you.”
She smiles faintly. “I feel the same way,” she says softly. “I think I do, at least. To be honest, I’m having trouble feeling anything except the desire to lie down in a soft bed.”
I grin. “I can help you with that,” I say.
I stand and reach for a towel. Holding it up for her, I watch as she stands. Her glistening, wet body emerges from the bubbles, and I’m filled with appreciation. She steps into the towel and I wrap her in it. Then I lead her to the master bedroom, where I’ve laid out my softest T-shirt and a pair of briefs.
I turn down the covers for her as she dresses in the make-do pajamas.
Once she crawls between the silk sheets, I cover her up. “Oh…” she says, as her head hits the pillow. “This is divine. Thank you.”
“Let me go get you a glass of water,” I say, thinking that she might be thirsty after all of that time in the hot bathwater.
I hurry downstairs and fill a glass with filtered water. When I return to the master bedroom, Phoebe is already asleep.
She’s sleeping on her side. I set the water on her nightstand and am about to snap off the bedside light when I’m struck by the beauty of her profile.
I stand there for a moment, just looking down at her.
Her brow, her nose, her lips, her chin… she looks like a marble sculpture.
The last time I saw her profile like this was in the hotel room, in Westegaard. She fell asleep before I did, and I watched her sleep for a moment before falling asleep myself. That night, she’d been bathed in moonlight.
I recall the way it felt to wake up next to her. Instead of moonlight, the room was filled with the early morning light of the rising sun. I remember the way it felt when she told me she was leaving. It was like being punched in the gut. It was so hard, watching her pack up her suitcase and walk through the hotel room door.
Now, watching her sleep, I’m filled with gratitude that she is back in my life.
I’m not going to let her run away again. This time, I’m going to do whatever I can to keep her at my side.
Chapter 15
Phoebe
I wake to soft silk sheets. The bedroom is dim. My mouth is parched.
I sit slowly and realize that I’m wearing Luca’s clothing.
Ah, yes. I remember. He offered it to me the night before. His T-shirt is baggy and smells like him, despite being freshly laundered. I smile as I reach for the glass of water that he so thoughtfully placed on the nightstand.
As I sip the water, I see that it’s already eleven a.m.
Eleven! I haven’t slept until eleven since I was a teenager.
The water is refreshing. I drink some more, and realize as I do that I’m actually hungry.
Very hungry.
My appetite has returned!
I also notice that I have no morning sickness. Every morning, for the past w
eek and a half, I’ve woken up with nausea and zero desire for food. Now I feel like I could eat a tall stack of pancakes, eggs, bacon, and maybe a few sausage links on the side.
Excited by the return of my appetite, and curious about Luca’s whereabouts, I get out of bed and hurry down the spiral staircase.
Once I’m halfway down it, I see Luca. He’s standing by the wall of windows that overlook the city, a paper to-go cup of coffee in his hand.
For a few seconds, I watch him without his knowing. He looks thoughtful as he sips his coffee and watches the traffic far below. He’s already dressed. His charcoal T-shirt hugs his pecs, his khakis just loose enough to give him a relaxed, laid-back look. As usual, his hair sticks out in all directions.
I take another step and he turns to face me. I notice that he has a thin covering of light stubble on his chin and upper lip. Until now, I’ve only ever seen him freshly shaven. I think this relaxed, rugged look suits him well.
He smiles, and his gray-blue eyes light up. “Look who it is,” he says. “My sleeping beauty is up!”
I return his smile. “Only I wasn’t kissed by a prince,” I say.
“I didn’t want to disturb you,” he replies with a wink. “And besides, isn’t it always the princess who kisses a frog?”
I laugh. “I think you’re getting your fairy tales confused.”
He chuckles, too. “There are just so many of them. It’s hard to keep track. I got you a coffee. I hope you like dark roast…”
He walks over to the coffee table and picks up a to-go cup. Then he crosses the room and holds it out to me.
I make my way down the stairs and accept the cup. As he hands it to me, he gives me a quick kiss on the cheek.
The feel of his stubble against my cheek sends a shiver of pleasure down my spine.
“It’s a small cup,” he says gently. “I did some reading, and it’s recommended that you don’t have more than two hundred milligrams. This has a little less than one hundred and fifty.”
“Good idea to check,” I say before taking my first sip. “I am sure there’s so much that I have to learn. Maybe I should get a book or something.”
“Already done,” Luca says. “I went out this morning and hit the bookstore. I bought ten. We’ll learn together.”
I smile again. “You’ve had a busy morning!” I say. “And all I did was sleep.” I look down at the T-shirt and shorts that I’m wearing. I can’t help but giggle about my get-up. “I must look ridiculous in your clothing.”
“You look gorgeous,” Luca says, with such sincerity that my giggling stops abruptly.
The way he looks at me makes me feel so beautiful.
He’s doing it now.
Under his attentive gaze, I blush.
“Well. I don’t think I can go out like this,” I say. I take another sip of coffee, and then reach a hand up to my hair. I haven’t looked in a mirror yet today, but I can tell by touch that my hair is in a massive tangle on top of my head. It must be because I didn’t wash it properly in the bath last night. I didn’t brush it before bed, either.
“We could order room service,” Luca suggests. “I took a look at the menu, and they have everything: omelets made to order, Belgian waffles, crepes…”
“Mmm,” I say, my appetite stirring once again. “That sounds amazing, but I think we should go out. You’ve never been to Philly before, have you?”
“This is my first visit,” he says.
I nod. “I thought so. You’re in for a treat, Luca. I’m going to give you a real taste of the city, just like you did for me when I was in Europe. You’re going to get to see the places that aren’t listed in the tourist magazines… and I have the perfect place in mind for lunch.”
“Lunch!” Luca says with a laugh. “But we haven’t even had breakfast yet!”
“Okay, you can call it breakfast,” I say, in a teasing tone. “But I’ve never heard of anyone having a Philly cheesesteak for breakfast before.” I turn, and head for the staircase, with my coffee in hand. “I’m going to take a quick shower and then get dressed.”
“Ah, the famous Philly cheesesteak,” Luca says. “I should have known.”
I hear him laughing as I make my way up the stairs.
Once in the bathroom, I step into the luxurious shower. There are two showerheads, a stone bench to sit on, and about a dozen bottles of shower products to choose from. I use every single one. When I emerge from the shower, I feel like a brand-new woman.
I dry off with a fluffy white towel and put on lotion. Then, a realization dawns on me.
I’m going to have to wear the same clothes today that I was wearing yesterday, in prison.
They’re the same clothes that I wore to work, three days ago when I got arrested.
I feel so fresh and clean. Putting on the dirty clothing is the last thing I want to do, but as much as I’d love to don one of the thick terry-cloth robes that hang from the bathroom wall, I don’t think that would be the appropriate attire for showing Luca around the city. I could ask Luca if I could borrow another T-shirt, but what would I wear for bottoms?
My clothing lies in a pile on the floor by the tub. Reluctantly, I reach down and lift my wrinkled top.
Just then, there’s a knock on the door.
I straighten up and tighten the towel so that it’s securely around me. “Come in,” I say.
Luca opens the door a foot and sticks his head in. “Sorry to interrupt again,” he says. “I can’t seem to stay away when you’re in here.”
I laugh. “You’re a welcome visitor.”
He opens the door a little bit wider and then holds out a paper bag. It has the name of a boutique embossed on the side in silver script.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Just something I picked up when I was out getting coffee this morning,” Luca says with a mischievous grin.
I pad over to him and accept the bag. He retreats and closes the door softly behind him before I have a chance to open his gift.
I set the bag on the countertop, open it, and peek inside.
I gasp as I see folded material, in many colors and patterns. There are at least five different clothing items inside. I reach in and pull out the first.
It’s a gorgeous, heather-gray sundress. The fabric is soft to the touch and has pink and red roses printed on it. It’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.
I hold it up to my body and look in the mirror. Turning side to side, I note that it’s the perfect size.
Next, I pull a second item from the bag. I’m astounded to find that it’s another dress—this one a pale cream color, with sunshine-yellow polka dots.
I pull dress after dress from the bag, all the while growing more and more moved by Luca’s thoughtfulness. Not only did he buy me new, clean clothing to wear today, but he also thought to purchase several options, so that I could choose between them.
In addition to the dresses, I also find several simple, sophisticated undergarments, and a selection of cardigans in colors that go with the dresses.
I choose the gray dress with the roses, and a pink cardigan with pearl buttons.
Once I’m dressed, I find Luca in the kitchen. He’s adding ice to a glass of water, but at the sight of me, he stops his task and sets the glass down on the counter.
“I was hoping you would choose that one,” he says with a smile.
I give a little twirl. “I love it,” I say. “You have good taste.”
“It’s easy to pick things out for you,” Luca says. “The difficult part was choosing only five. But I didn’t want to stay in the store too long. I was afraid that you’d wake up and be lonely without me.” He lifts his glass again and adds playfully, “Little did I know that you’d sleep until almost noon.”
His teasing makes me smile. “I couldn’t help it!” I say. “That bed was just way too comfortable… and those curtains must be magical! They didn’t let any light in.”
“Magical curtains,” Luca says. “Of course! Th
ey should have listed that in the amenities section when I booked online.”
“Maybe they should have,” I say. “I think they’d be the most popular hotel in Philly if they did. And speaking of popular, wait until you see this place I’m going to take you for lunch. Get ready to have the best meal of your life.”
“Oh, I’m ready,” Luca says.
“Good,” I say. “There’s just one thing we need to get done first, and then I’ll make sure you have a day that you’ll never forget.”
An expression of curiosity crosses Luca’s face. “Oh yeah? What is it?”
Chapter 16
Luca
Phoebe insists on keeping our before-lunch task a secret. I follow her directions through the city until we arrive at a health clinic. Phoebe directs me to a parking lot off to the side of the large building. I see several signs pointing the way to various parts of the clinic, including a sign for emergency care, a dialysis unit, and a blood lab.
“Do you have an appointment scheduled?” I ask as I park and then peer out at the signs.
“No,” Phoebe says. “But I’m pretty sure this place takes walk-ins.”
I turn to her, concerned now. “Are you feeling okay?” I ask.
She nods. “I’m okay. Actually, I want to get an appointment for you.”
“Me?”
She nods again. “I want them to get a DNA sample from you. I think we should get a paternity test done. I want you to have it in writing…” Her voice is hushed. “I want you to have proof that you’re the father.”
“Phoebe, we don’t have to do this,” I say. “You told me I’m the only one who could be the father. You gave me your word, and that’s good enough for me.”
She shifts in the seat so her body is angled toward me. “Luca, you’ve been so kind to me. I really can’t even believe that you’re here with me. I keep having this feeling… like I’m dreaming.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” I say. “I’ve been having the same feeling.”
She’s wearing her hair down, and it forms waves of gold and warm brown that cascade over her shoulders. Her eyes look bright, and compared to yesterday, she has more color in her cheeks. The roses on the dress I bought her match the rose-red of her lips.