I shouldn’t go looking. I know that but I stand and leave the kitchen anyway.
The noise leads down a corridor I haven’t fully explored yet. The bar room is dimly lit, just one lamp on, casting a warm glow across dark wood and glass shelves. Zane is there, seated at the counter, jacket off, sleeves rolled up. A glass sits in front of him.
I take a step back trying to be sneaky, maybe he hasn’t seen yet.
"Elaine," he says without turning around. "You can co in."
Tsk so much for slipping away and being sneaky.
I move forward reluctantly and stop a few feet behind him. "Why aren’t you sleeping?"
He doesn’t answer, just lifts the glass, takes a slow sip and sets it back down.
I fold my arms. "Do you enjoy ignoring questions in general , or is it just mine ?"
A corner of his mouth twitches. Not a smile but sothing close. "What are you doing here? It’s late "
"I was hungry."
He glances over his shoulder. "At midnight?"
"I didn’t realize there was a curfew for being hungry."
He turns fully toward then, eyes steady, assessing. "Aren’t you going to sleep with ? Like consummate our marriage?."
Okay I don’t know where that’s coming from but I have been in his house and sleeping under he’s roof for two days now, it’s only fair I know what to expect.
He eyes . "Is that what you ca here for?"
"No," I say quickly. "I ca down here because I was curious I heard a sound and decided to follow it. But since you seem committed to pretending that conversation doesn’t exist, I figured I’d ask sothing else."
He pushes back from the counter and stands. Slowly and deliberately.
Every instinct in my body goes on alert.
He circles behind , close enough that I can feel the heat from him. I don’t move, I don’t dare breathe either. His fingertips brush the side of my neck and my skin reacts before my brain can stop it. Goosebumps ripple outward.
He gathers my hair into his hand and pulls it back into a loose ponytail, tugging just enough to force my head up. I et his eyes in the reflection of the mirror behind the bar.
Warm amber and a cold expression.
His voice is low when he speaks . "You don’t get to dictate the terms of this marriage little spitfire."
I swallow. My mouth is dry and my heart is pounding so hard it feels like it’s rattling my ribs. "I didn’t realize marriage ca with ownership clauses."
He studies my face like he’s deciding sothing, then he lets go.
Just like that.
The sudden release almost sends forward. I steady myself against the counter, legs weak, breath shaky despite my effort to hide it. He walks back to the decanter and pours himself another drink.
hem.
The room feels different now, sohow smaller
"What the hell are you doing?" I ask quietly.
He takes a sip before answering. "Thinking."
"About?"
He doesn’t look at . "How this is going to work."
I let out a bitter laugh. "You choked and threw on the floor yesterday. If that’s your version of working things out, we’re already wayyyyy y past the point of discussion."
His jaw tightens. "You shouldn’t have slapped ."
"You shouldn’t have said what you said."
Silence stretches between us again,thick and uncomfortable.
" I left my piano at my house, when your n were packing my stuff they convinently left it out." I say finally. "I want it back."
He sets the glass down. "Tomorrow, maybe you’ll get it tomorrow."
"That’s not an answer."
"It is," he says. "Just not one you like."
I straighten, forcing my shoulders back even though every part of wants to shrink. "You don’t scare Zane."
He looks at then. Really looks. "You should stop lying to yourself."
I don’t respond. There’s no point.
I turn and walk out of the room before he can say anything else. My steps are slow but steady. I don’t run. I won’t give him that.
Back in my room, I close the door softly and lean my forehead against it for a second longer than necessary. My hands are shaking.
I climb into bed without bothering to turn the lights off.
Sleep doesn’t co easily, but eventually, exhaustion wins.
————————————————————
I stay in my room most of the day. I lie on the bed scrolling through my phone, not really reading anything. I open apps. Close them.
By evening, my stomach growls loud enough to annoy .
I sit up, rub my face, and check the ti. It’s six thirty.
That’s when my phone rings.
I frown at the number. I don’t recognize it, but sothing tells to answer.
"Elaine"
"Hey," the voice says, a little unsure, a little bright. "It’s Claire.... from high school? We t at the the reception and exchanged contacts."
I blink. Then I smile even though she can’t see "oh hi Claire."
"Hi," she repeats, like she’s relieved I rembered. "I didn’t know if you saved my number or not."
"I did," I lie not wanting her to feel bad. "I just... haven’t texted yet."
"That’s okay," she says quickly. "I figured things might be hectic you know married life and stuff."
That’s one way to put it.
She keeps talking before I can fill the silence. "Listen, I’m going out tonight. Nothing crazy. Just drinks, music. I was going with a couple friends, but one bailed. I thought maybe you’d want to co."
My first instinct is no.
It’s automatic. I open my mouth to say it.
"I.... Uhmmm "
"You don’t have to," she adds, like she hears it coming. "I just thought I’d ask."
I lean back against the pillows and stare at the ceiling.
"I’m not really doing anything," I admit.
"Exactly," she says. "Neither am I. That’s the point."
I glance around my room.
"What ti" I ask.
"Seven," she says. "I’ll co pick you up."
And then hangs up before I can change my mind.
Which leaves wondering how she knows my house and where to find it.
User Comments
0 comments from readers