Chapter Twenty-Two

 

Three weeks in a hotel wasn’t much different from three weeks at our house. But here we took turns sleeping for ten hours, dreaming and living. Our bodies were used to the long sleep. We used step counters to ensure we got ten thousand steps a day while the other person slept and ate healthy. And with no construction workers, we had no one to know how we spent our time.

I spent a few hours every day lifting some weights in the hotel gym, swimming, and lying in a tanning bed.

We didn't go outside. The new tanning beds really were safer than going in the sun anyway. We didn't interact with other people unless we had to.

I never noticed that like true addicts, we found ways to have our cake and eat it too, without giving up our time in the machine.

In front of the mirror in the hallway of the hotel, I pulled my hair into a bun, noting the dark rich color had returned as had the thickness.

For a moment, I had to pause, checking my reality to determine if I was in the machine or not.

I looked like me again. Not quite as beautiful as the me in the story. The one with flushed cheeks and meat on her bones. But this was an improvement, much better than before. I lifted an arm, noting my skin now clung to my body instead of hanging there.

I was getting healthier but Lana lay on the bed, still a bit gaunt.

Her cheeks didn't flush and her hair hadn’t fully thickened. Her skin was tanned, no longer gray, but it was fake. Beneath the brownish coloring was a pallor no one would envy and her skin still hung. She took the health risks lighter than I did. But she was improving, if only marginally.

Being a researcher, I knew the problems the organs faced when the body stopped being active, the same problems patients with ALS faced. A better chance of getting flus and colds and even pneumonia.

I didn't lessen my time in the world, I improved my time out of it.

I read again, something I’d not done in ages.

I lived, as a regular person might. A regular hermit. That still bothered me, being around groups of people. But it had always bothered me. Jonathan had been the extravert who adopted me and made me social.

When Lana woke, we packed up, leaving a massive tip for housekeeping, as the room would need a lot of cleaning, and headed home.

My stomach was in knots at the excitement of seeing the house.

As we drove up and the cab stopped, Lana climbed out but I sat, staring. The veranda was new, redone with large beams and fresh brick, matching the façade of the house. The vines and creeping gardens had been torn down and manicured to look as they had likely been intended. The open wrought-iron gates were gleaming in the spring sunlight and the pathways were fresh stamped concrete.

In the circle drive a massive fountain spewed water into the air, creating rainbows in the middle. I wouldn't have recognized my house if I hadn’t driven right to it.

I threw money at the driver and ran up to the entrance as he and Lana struggled with the bags.

She shouted something at me but I ignored it, desperate to see inside.

The front doors had been preserved, fixed up and restained. The hardware glistened as the gates did, polished and new.

Mike smiled wide as he opened the door, almost bowing. “My lady, your house awaits. We even got most of the basement done. I hired out the yard to a friend’s company, so we will have to add that to the b—”

“You’re ruining it.” I lifted a hand.

“Sorry.” He laughed and stepped aside, his face as eager as mine.

I lifted my hands to my lips, gushing. “Oh, Mike. Oh my God.” I stepped inside, spinning in a half circle to try to see it all. “You even had the furniture delivered?” I gasped. The front entryway was like I never imagined it could be. I narrowed my gaze. “How did you do all this in three weeks?”

“We worked night and day.” He laughed his bitter chuckle. “The floors are Italian marble with radiant heating. No more cold floors.” He beamed with pride.

The white square tiles laid on the angle to look like diamonds were separated by a black circle at each corner. The black-and-white floor glistened with the daylight and brightened up the old space. I didn't recognize anything in the house. The walls were that same crisp blue-white as upstairs and the moldings were all the antiqued cream. The lacey banister and railings shone, tying into the floor and creating a focal point.

My shoes clicked across the floor as I made my way into the sitting room. It was done in teal and beige, creating vibrancy and happiness. It was the happiest room I’d ever seen.

The sofas were lush and thick, looking identical to the catalogues and websites I had picked them from.

Throw pillows and rugs made up the few accents we had.

The massive fireplace took up half of one wall, going floor to ceiling in river rock. It was beautiful and yet added that warmth the room needed.

We continued the tour to the dining hall. The huge industrial table sat twenty comfortably with a giant chandelier hanging over it. Mike had insisted upon the table, boasting about how the exposed steel bolts holding the table together contrasted with the softness of the fabric chairs. Adding the glittering chandelier was exactly the right touch. The fireplace in here was ornate and done in that same antiqued white as the rest of the trim in the house.

The flooring on this floor was the same driftwood as upstairs, but the walls were a slightly bluer color than the rest of the house.

As we made our way through a beautiful archway, the kitchen stopped me dead in my tracks.

My hands wouldn't come away from my lips as tears streamed my cheeks. Mike wrapped an arm around my shoulders, just holding me as I sobbed.

It was enormous, boasting double islands with Italian marble countertops to match those in the bathrooms and cabinets to match the antiqued trim and doors. The sinks were huge, three of them. The backsplash was made of translucent blue glass subway tiles and went up the entire wall and around the enormous window where the largest sink was.

A small glass table sat under the bay window in the far corner overlooking the garden.

Every bit of this would have been picked by Jonathan. It paid the perfect homage to his memory. But it wasn't Jonathan I was grateful to.

“It’s perfect,” I whispered, wishing I cooked more than Lean Cuisine and salad.

“I’m so glad you like it,” Mike muttered, still holding me. His rough fingers against my bare arm felt more real than anything I’d had in a long time.

“There’s more.” He strolled me down the hallway to the butler’s pantry and access to the five-car garage they were in the middle of constructing.

“I don't own a car.” I glanced at him, confused.

“You might one day. Maybe you’ll want to drive. It’ll be the wrong side of the road for you, but I could teach you.”

“Wrong side of the road?” I was lost.

“Compared to Britain. You all drive on the wrong side.”

“Britain?” I almost said I was from Los Angeles, but I didn't. I hadn’t noticed I spoke with an English accent.

Mike was real.

I was fake.

I swallowed the comment down and nodded. “I would love to learn to drive.”

“And the bathrooms and billiards room are this way. I also took the liberty of adding a theater room. I wasn't sure how much TV you ladies watch, but it would make an excellent selling feature.” He walked me down the other hallway, past the foyer where Lana was hauling in bags and glaring at me.

“You could help.”

“We’re doing the tour,” I snapped back at her.

The bathrooms resembled the ones upstairs and the billiards room was more like a cigar lounge for men, not really a room I could see myself entertaining in.

The study was lovely, done in a shabby chic décor as we had planned.

The theater room was ridiculous. “Was this necessary? It seems a bit ostentatious, like I can’t just go to the theater on my own.”

“Says the lady with seven bedrooms, a living room that seats thirty people in two separate seating areas, a dining room that seats twenty, the nicest recreation room I've ever seen, a study, a three-thousand-square-foot library, nine bathrooms, and a five-car garage. Yes. A theater room ties in nicely.” He rolled his eyes and I laughed.

“Are you mocking me?”

“No way, Emma. I wouldn't dream of mocking you.” He chuckled harder.

“Have your laugh. I don't even watch TV.” I turned us around and walked us back to the living room. The doors led to a spacious back deck that overlooked a huge backyard. There were several sitting areas, making it seem more like a fancy health club than a house.

“You need a pool. I know a guy.”

“Of course you do.” I sighed, contemplating the pool. “I do like to swim. Does it actually get warm enough for pools here though? Aren’t they mostly indoors?”

“You’ve lived here for years—have you seriously not noticed how hot the summers are?”

“No,” I answered flatly. I never went outside.

“They get hot enough,” he answered equally emotionless. I glanced up at him, lost in his stare for a brief second. “You look amazing, by the way. If you don't mind my saying. So different. So healthy.”

“I do?” I had hoped I would. If I were being truthful to myself, I could admit I had hoped he’d notice. I had showered and blow-dried my hair and put on makeup, makeup I had to have a private shopper buy for me since I didn't own a stitch of it. I even wore a bra that made my boobs look much better than the one Lana called my after-dinner bra.

“You do.” His voice changed, lowering and yet becoming rougher.

“Thank you,” I whispered, suddenly painfully aware of his hand on my arm and the rapid beating of my heart.

But this wasn't a story. This wasn't made up. It was real. His rough hand was really touching my soft skin and I had thoughts. Thoughts I shouldn't have. I was engaged to another man.

It was hard fought, and lost, but I couldn't stop. I noticed everything about Mike in a matter of heartbeats. His lips were slightly chapped, like he might be dehydrated. His eyes were tired, weeks’ worth of work had made bags under each one. His dark hair was shaggy under his baseball cap, unwashed and filled with dust from building me a dream house I didn't even know I had dreamt of. And yet, I doubted I’d ever found another man as attractive as this one before me.

“How did you redo the house so well, to suit me? You didn't miss a single thing.”

“I paid attention. Do you remember us going through the websites and shit, looking at décor, and I got you to use that site all the women love—?”

“Pinterest.”

“Right. I joined Pinterest so I could monitor what you were picking and the designer and I chose from that.”

“Thank you.” I smiled weakly. “The fact you were paying attention means a lot to me.”

“You spent three million dollars, Em. Three million. There was no way I was screwing this up.” He brushed it off, removing his hand masterfully. “I’m just glad it worked out. You’re on the mend, the house is no longer a rat hole, and my guys aren’t scared of being here anymore.” He laughed.

I smiled wide, wishing that moment of his arm being around my shoulders wasn't over. Something about his touch was better, it was more.

For the first time in a long time, this world was more.

“You were worth every penny,” I offered, hoping to sound indifferent, opposite to how I felt.

“Thank you.” He glanced around. “Me and the guys will be done for the weekend so you can get the furniture how you like and whatever. I had the designer arrange it so it’s functional. I don't know if you’re like my mom and have to rearrange the shit a thousand times before you’re happy.”

“No.” I laughed. “I love it all. It reminds me of a luxury inn.”

“Well, I’m glad. So we’ll be back on Monday to finish the basement. Shouldn't be long, I don't know how long though. We have some concrete curing down there now, so don't go down there. It’s still fairly disgusting. Oh, and I took the liberty of hiring the gardener full time. She’s a lady I know. She’s good and she won’t gouge you. She did the yard and garden for us. Looks awesome, huh?”

“She’s a miracle worker. To be honest, I never knew there was a fountain.”

“No, me either. Took some work to get it running again. You have a cleaning team of some sort, right? When the basement’s finished, this will be a fifteen-thousand-square-foot house, plus garage. I can’t imagine you two will keep up with that.”

“Let me guess—”

“I know someone.” He grinned again, his eyes filling with all the spark they had before.

A spark I had come to enjoy.