CHAPTER 30
Lana
Christian left me in bed with a kiss on the corner of my lips at eight thirty this morning. I might have been half asleep but I didn’t let him walk away from me without a proper kiss.
Since he left, I’ve gone back to sleep for another hour and then woken up to make breakfast with what is left in the pantry and fridge. I presume there isn’t much since he hasn’t been here most of the year, and now I wonder if he plans to keep the penthouse for whenever he comes back for work. Or when we come back.
Now it’s noon, and I’m back in his giant, California king bed.
I feel exhausted. Insults like his mothers stopped bothering me a long time ago. I’m used to them from bullies. And, sadly, microaggressions are just another thing I have to deal with.
But I’m proud of myself, and especially proud of my mother. I don’t think I’m half as brave as she was to come to a new country with little knowledge of the language to start a new life with her daughter after her husband left us for adifferent family. I can’t even begin to imagine how hard she had to work, the things she had to do.
She taught herself English while I learned English in school, and after school, I’d go with her to work. Some days, I’d go to the houses to clean with her, and I was always happy about it.
It was my mother who taught me what it meant to work for something you wanted because life won’t hand you a single fucking thing. It was my mother who taught me the value of everything—money, education,love.
Exhausted of my own mind, I force myself from the bed, keeping my eyes focused out the floor to ceiling windows with the view of Manhattan. On my feet, I stretch and squint at the sunlight.
I wonder if Christian is still in his office, trying to get rid of his cruel mother. Trudging toward the bathroom, I wonder how he looksinhis office. He’s already so sexy in a suit, I can’t begin to imagine him in a suit behind a desk with a serious look in his eyes while he’s bossing me around.
My body flushes immediately as I turn on the water to fill the tub.
It’s been a long night and an even longer, quieter morning alone. I undress and slip into the hot bubble bath I’ve prepared for myself, the sunlight from the dramatic windows filling the extravagant space. It feels too fancy for me when I think about living here with him. It’s too much, albeit it is beautiful.
Maybe I’m just not used to luxury like this. I’ve only ever gotten myself what I need. And what I need is a simple home with my love living in it with me. I don’t care where or what—so if this is where we settle then it’s fine because at the end of our day, he’s holding me in our bed as we drift asleep.
Though, luxury is quite nice to indulge in once in a while—so I am taking full advantage of this large bath tub. The view from these windows isn’t half bad either.
I try to let my body sink into relaxation beneath the hot water. It doesn’t work. Instead, I slip underneath, holding my breath and allowing myself to drown in the silence for a moment, but it’s still there.
My mind keeps going back and I see Caroline at our old apartment door, decked out in gold jewelry and pearls and holding her handbag in the crook of her elbow as she looks at it with disdain. She looked over my shoulder into the apartment her son was living in withme, and the look turned intodisgusted. She was utterly revolted and it showed.
I would never say it to her face, but she’s forgotten where she came from too.
Caroline pulled an envelope out of her bag, pinching it between two fingers as though she was scared she’d contract something from me and said, “Stay away from my son.”
I took the envelope and blinked at the woman. I’d been crying everyday for nearly two months straight and suddenly she was at my doorstep, handing me an envelope with the most money I’d ever seen, and telling me to stay away from her son. The son that left mebecauseof her.
This was the woman who let the drunk father of her son beat him. The same son I’ve loved since I was nineteen and helped every time he came home to me bruised because she did nothing about it. She loved her money, and she still does. Some things never change.
An arm wraps around my body and pulls me out. I gasp for air and push my hair back, wiping water from my eyes. I see him sitting on a small stool outside the tub with a frown. I gasp, “Christian.”
“What were you doing? You scared the shit out of me.” Hiscoffee eyes are a more tumultuous shade with the deep line of concern between his brow.
“I… I just wanted silence…”
Christian holds his breath for a moment, his shoulders tense and chest wide. I place my wet hand on his forearm, sweeping my thumb back and forth several times before he finally exhales that breath, releasing himself from the malevolent turmoil in his mind.
“You scared me,” he barely whispers.
“Hey,” I breathe. “Hey, baby.” The water sloshes around me as I sit up and kiss his forearm and his hand. “Hey, talk to me.”
“There isn’t a lot to say,” he rasps.
I kiss his bicep. His inner elbow. His palm.
“Come in with me,” I say.
