“You can stay here and work for him,” Harrison says.
Seraphine licks her lips, and I catch the worry in her eyes.
Has she realized that coming here was a mistake? Does she know her worth? Know it’s more than what my son has to offer? Only a fool would cheat on someone as wonderful as her. She has to know that. She knows that, right?
“Given the circumstances, Harrison, maybe it’s best she has her own place for a while, don’t you think?” I wait a beat then add, “After all, when was the last time she had her own space?”
The way Harrison looks at me, I think he’s on to me. But something changes in his eyes almost immediately and he nods. Perhaps a reminder that he is dating his sister—and he just told me they are living together.
“Fine, but I’ll go with you to get your things from the house. I don’t want you there alone.” Harrison gets to his feet. “And I have a box of your things you left here.”
He exits the room, leaving Seraphine and I alone. I watch her as she stares at the floor, wanting to go to her but knowing that would not be acceptable or appropriate.
“Please, stop staring at me,” she whispers.
“My apologies,” I say, bringing my gaze out the window.
Everything is awkward now that she called me out. I don’t know where to stand, what to say, or what to do. So I go into the kitchen and clean up the mess Harrison and I made. He returns a few moments later with a box and his car keys in hand. He shares a few quiet words with Seraphine, then he helps her to her feet and moves toward the door.
“Lock up before you leave,” he says to me. “And text me what apartment she’ll be at.”
The second the door closes, I pull out my phone and send him the address of the building closest to mine. Then I call the building manager, hoping like hell there is an opening. If there isn’t, he better make one within the next hour, no matter what he has to do to make that happen. My son had his chance with Seraphine; now I want mine.
Chapter Twelve
Seraphine
The apartment is too big, too cold, too empty. It’s beautifully furnished with a fridge full of fresh foods. That’s as far as I got before I sunk into the sofa, covered myself with the fuzzy throw blanket, and just… laid here. My gaze is on the floor to ceiling windows, something Elliot seems to love, considering they’re everywhere—his house, his son’s condo, here. I suppose it’s necessary living in a place like Seattle where the views are gorgeous everywhere you go. Tall buildings, mountains, water…
Not that I can appreciate any of that right now, considering I feel nothing but numb. Pretty sure that’s why I agreed to this at all. Though, even staying with Harrison sounded appealing over the thought of going back to my father’s house where his brain matter is hanging on the wall like a decoration.
I can’t believe they just leave that there for the family to clean up. I mean, how awful is that? How do they ever expect a family to go back in there, get what they need, and handle thatsituation? I’ve never been so grateful for Harrison in my life, and that has me feeling so strange and really confused.
I never should have gone to him. But without going there, I wouldn’t be here. I’d be sleeping in my car for the foreseeable future. Not only would I have not known how to handle the clean up of my father, I never could have paid for it either. Harrison said he would handle it, and I thanked him a million times. I feel like it deserves a million more thanks, too.
Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure Harrison’s only being nice to make up for what he did. In no way does this make up for cheating on me, but I’ll take it.
I’m not sure when I’ll make it back to my father’s house to go through everything and handle the sale of it, if that’s even something that will be left to me, since I doubt he left anything to me at all. Harrison went into the house and got my things for me. I sat in the car and waited for him as he made multiple trips back and forth, each time carrying armfuls of my stuff. I hope I can get into the house to get my mother’s things, but I have to wait to see what my father has done legally and go from there. If he chose to leave nothing to me, it’ll be a relief. I only hope someone will have enough sympathy to let me go in and get my mother’s belongings. Or maybe I’ll just get them on my own anyway.
My gaze focuses from the window to the oak coffee table in front of me. Well, not the coffee table itself, but the small white unopened box that holds the newest iPhone. It came with the apartment. It has been sitting in the same spot since I got hereearlier this afternoon. I’m just waiting to be told there is a shiny new Mercedes with my name on it, sitting in my parking spot in the garage beneath the building.
That’s silly. It probably wouldn’t be a Mercedes. Elliot Caldwell seems more like a Porsche guy. Both options are ridiculous, and I wouldn’t be caught dead driving either. I like my car. Even though Mr. Caldwell was right, and it is about to give out any day now. Still, taking a car is too much. I’ll get my own once I save enough money. Or maybe I’m being the ridiculous one, and there isn’t a car down there at all. I mean, he couldn’t have been serious about all of that, could he? Definitely not.
My cell rings from somewhere in the apartment. Kitchen maybe. I think that’s where I left it. I don’t rush to it, because I recognize the ring tone as Harrison’s. “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran. Guess I never changed it. I don’t get up to answer it because I don’t want to talk to him. I shouldn’t have gone to him, and I hope he doesn’t take my weak moment as forgiveness or willingness to give him another chance. I do not forgive him for what he did, and I cannot give him another chance. We haven’t even talked about what happened. I couldn’t handle that conversation before, I certainly can’t handle it now. But I won’t overlook it either. I won’t pretend it didn’t happen. As much as I want to, to have someone through this, it’ll only be worse later on.
I don’t move from the couch until the sun is set, and when the apartment is dark, only then am I comfortable enough to get up. The darkness feels like a safety blanket. No one can seeme in the dark. It’s just me. I’m safe. I’m alone. But somehow, I feel less alone than in the bright sunlight that everyone around here craves.
I’ve always enjoyed the grey skies and rain that Seattle is known for. There’s something beautiful about the dark weather. The way the water gets a little chaotic, the dreary look of it all. Why does beauty only have to come in color?
I leave the living room and go into the kitchen. It’s the main room, everything else branching off it. The apartment is a U-shape and takes up one side of the building. I’m honestly not sure what floor I’m on, so I’ll have to double check that before I leave—if I ever do—or I may never make it back. I’ve been in a dream-like state since finding my father. Completely disassociating at different points of the day. I’m not even sure this is the same day… How long have I been here?
Flipping the kitchen light on, I do another perusal of the cabinets. Stock full of food—the expensive name brand stuff I was used to when I lived with Harrison. There are dishes, utensils, pots and pans, all shiny and unused.
The first thing I noticed when I stepped into the apartment was how it smelled. That stiff almost pungent smell of newly unboxed items. That’s what this place smells like. It’s almost clinical, and I hate it. I dig through the utility closet and find a can of lavender air freshener and frantically make my way through the house, spraying everything I can, hoping the scent sticks. I’ll need candles or plug-ins… something to make it smell normal.
When I reach the bedroom, I sit on the bed, falling back and moaning at how the mattress hugs my tired muscles. It’s so comfortable, so soft. My gaze goes to the closet, and I get up to check it out. It’s a walk-in, but not huge. There aren’t any clothes here though. Everything of mine is shoved in the corner of the room. I’ll put it all away one day.
Though I showered earlier today, I need another. My skin feels contaminated. So I dig through the bags, tossing clothes everywhere until I find my favorite pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt. I stay in the shower until the water runs cold, and it makes me smile.
