She hesitated, as if she wanted to say something in response but was not sure if she should.
Then she sighed and turned away. “Well ... have a good night, Javier.”
“Good night, Octavia.” I almost wished she would say more ... just for the hell of it.
Instead, I watched her walk out the door and shut it behind her. There seemed like so much more I could have said or done, but I was not sure what else to add. I figured perhaps it would come to me the next day, when I had some rest and a clearer head.
My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I had not eaten a proper meal in nearly eight hours, so I walked to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed the Tupperware filled with soup.
I heated it up in the microwave, sat at the table, and dug right in.
Then I let out a satisfied groan becausedamn.
I did not care how much Octavia got under my skin if it meant I could keep eating meals as delicious as these.
Seven
Octavia
I loved the guesthouse.
It was about the size of a studio apartment and had just enough space for me.
When I first saw it, it reminded me of one of those tiny homes on HGTV. I’d always wanted to stay in a tiny home, so I fell in love at first sight.
The exterior was made of stucco, with dark-green shutters. Two windows on the face of the house revealed the front lawn and a distant view of Javier’s whopper of a home. A three-step stoop led to a small porch that paved the way to a dark-green door.
The interior was what sold me. I didn’t expect there to be two levels inside the guesthouse, so the first thing to catch my eye was the loft area on the second floor, where a full-size bed was set up, along with a mounted TV and a dresser. A round window was built into the wall next to the bed, providing a view of leafy treetops.
On the first floor, the kitchen had a sink, a fridge, an oven, and a row of cabinets for storage. A black love seat was placed against the windowless wall, and a beautiful rug matching the black, sienna, and beige color scheme was spread on the middle of the floor.
The two-person dining table was set up in front of one of the windows, with a perfect view of the lawn. I sipped so many cups of coffee there. This place had a cozy, industrial vibe, and I loved it.
Apparently, Javier’s mother had decorated the place when he first moved in. The guesthouse was meant for her, but she realized quickly that she didn’t like being alone, so it kind of just sat for years.
I’d never had a real place of my own. I think that was why I cherished it so much. If I wasn’t staying with Mama, I was living with whichever kid I nannied.
I’d spent a few months in an apartment with my high school bestie, Naomi, when I was twenty-two, but that didn’t last long because Naomi’s job let her go and she couldn’t afford to pay rent anymore, which resulted in me not being able to afford the full amount of rent and us having to break our lease and move out.
Now I had a place—at least for now—and it was marvelous.
I thought about all those things as I sat at the table, sipping my coffee and watching the sun rise. We were coming close to summer, which meant Javier would be home more since this basketball season would be over.
I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about that yet—him being home more, that is. I felt like I finally had a good routine with Aleesa, but with him hovering around, things would definitely shift.
But that was okay.
I was good at adapting.
It was coming close to six in the morning, so I finished my coffee, washed the cup, then left the guesthouse to walk across the yard. Normally, I could sleep in another hour or so when Javier was home, but figured I would get a head start on the day.
Once I reached the back door, I took out my key and unlocked it to get inside. I flipped on the light switch to illuminate the kitchen and sighed.
I was in such a funky mood the day prior, but I didn’t feel so awful anymore. Javier had apologized, and I truly appreciated that. Most people weren’t mature enough to own up to their mistakes, but he had.
To show my appreciation, I whipped up some French toast, eggs, and bacon. I was just about to cut some fruit when I heard a high-pitched voice yell “Tava!”
“Right on time.” I laughed to myself as I dried off my hands and hurried up the stairs.
