He slipped on a pair of sweatpants and left the room. I plopped back on my pillow, my hair fanning around me, sending my scent and his swirling around me.
He bought this place for us.
I would always have a home here with him.
How did he know I loved this cabin?
My eyes were stuck on the ceiling, my mind lost to the questions, my heart overwhelmed by the day. Somethingdropped down, and my eyes crossed before I realized it was a spider. I pulled the covers up to my chest and eased out of the bed.
“All right, Charlotte,” I whispered. Whatever species of spider it was, it looked identical to the one from the children’s book. I was not sure if it was poisonous or not, but either way, I was not a bug crusher. I felt she was here before me, therefore she had a place on this property, even if not in my room.
I had enough karma to deal with with the elf who stole my socks. I grinned, and before Mariano made it into the room, yelled for him to bring me one of the glass jars from the kitchen. Whoever had been here previously, one of Atta’s family members, had left behind a bunch of glass jars in thecucina.
My husband—my husband!—for as long as we both shall live and beyond, came in with a tray. A glass of something red, a medley of fresh fruit, cheese, and crackers were arranged on it. The glass jar sat beside it all. He set the tray on a table and lifted the glass jar in question. I wrapped the sheet around me towel style and took it from him. I nodded to the dangling creature keeping eight eyes on us.
As easily as I could, I set the jar underneath her and then set the top on. It disconnected her web, but she was all right and ready to be relocated.
I turned with a smile on my face. “Charlotte is ready for her new home!”
He crossed his arms over his chest, coming in closer, eyeing her. “Charlotte, ah?”
I nodded. “We need to poke holes in the top. Tomorrow, we can bring her to one of the barns on the property.”
“Becauseshe’sa barn spider.”
I looked closer at her. “I believe so.”
He sighed, taking the jar from me. After he made it to the kitchen, I heard popping noises. He was making holes for her. Ijumped back into bed, a grin on my face, even if I was sore and aching from how wide he had stretched me, how deep he had gone inside of me. I could still feel him there. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, got back to what I was thinking of before.
Right.
I had evicted our first house guest. I had a feeling we would be evicting a lot more once we started deep cleaning.
My husband’s face was…not the same when he came back into the bedroom. It was…perhaps…disappointed? He handed me the glass from the tray, which was filled with cranberry juice. I gulped it down, some of it slipping past my lip and running down my chin, between my breasts. His eyes were magnetized to the area, even if his full lips were turned down.
He said nothing as he pushed the tray toward me and went in the direction of the kitchen again. He came back with a full gallon of the juice. I thanked him as he poured me another glass, then drank it straight down. Instead of pouring me another, he handed me the gallon. I drank straight from the well.
Feeling refreshed, I started on the fruit. When I realized he was staring at me, I set a grape close to his mouth, and he opened.
Still. Something was off with him.
I fed him another grape. “What is going on, Mariano?”
He sighed, and it was so heavy, the melon about to make it into my mouth paused. I set it down on the platter. Set my hand over his. Braced myself for whatever he was going to say next.
“Mariano,” I whispered, a slight amount of panic starting to rise to the surface of my emotions.
He refused to look at me. He rolled his shoulders. “You did not call for me,” he said in Italian. He crossed his arms over his bare chest.
I stared at him for a moment. “I do not understand,” I said.
“The spider.”
You did not call for me. The spider.
“Ah,” I breathed out, popping the bubble of laughter about to rise from my chest. He was dead serious about this. He wanted to be the knight to my damsel. He could not help himself. It was in his blood. I set my hand over his bulging bicep, squeezing a little. “I am afraid of plenty of things. I will always call for you when those appear.”
His eyes turned down to mine. “Snakes.”
