“Okay.” Resigned, he leaves my bed and, without giving me another look, gets dressed and slips out of the room.
When I hear the front door close, I finally allow myself to fall apart.
CHAPTER 34
WILL
My doorbell echoes through my apartment, and I freeze.
I’m not ready for this. Absolutely not ready.
When I texted Rachel and Océane yesterday, I wasn’t planning on completely blowing things up with Sophie. I thought I could walk into this with most of my sanity intact. That I could wake up next to Sophie, bask in the comfort of her warmth, and head out to my apartment in high spirits.
Instead, everything came crashing down.
With some distance, I can see how Sophie came to her conclusion, although it’s wrong. I loved Sophie way before she became a mother. And I would choose her time and again, kids or no kids.
But she doesn’t know that. She doesn’t know how deep this love goes.
She doesn’t know because I still haven’t shown her.
The last thing I wanted last night was to leave her side, to let her stew in this misery. I wanted to scream at her to open her eyes and see how long I’ve been pining for her. I wanted to shake her senseless, make her see reason, help her understand that she can trust me with her heart.
And yet, after everything I’ve put her through, I have to respect her wishes. I have to respect her.
But I can’t think about Sophie now. Today, I’m making things right with Océane. Let’s put out one fire at a time.
I rush to the door and freeze when my hand comes into contact with the doorknob. A final deep breath, and I’m ready.
Rachel and Océane stand side by side in my doorway, their long hair drenched from the rain, green eyes fixed intently on me. If there weren’t such a huge height—and age—difference, they could be twins. “Come in, come in,” I say as I usher them inside, quickly closing the door behind them.
While Rachel removes her raincoat, Océane stands with her mouth slightly agape, her eyes darting around the apartment with curiosity. Right. She’s never been here before. To be honest, there’s not much to see. It’s a modest studio with a tiny kitchen area tucked into the left corner, a small round dining table, an IKEA couch positioned beside a compact TV, and a bed partially hidden by a dark curtain. I don’t spend a lot of time here, so I haven’t put much effort into making it look or feel special.
“It’s … cozy,” Océane observes with a shrug. Then, as if realizing what she just said, her eyes go wide, and she jerks her head to look up at me. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. It’s great. I love it. It’s perfect, really. It’s?—”
“Hey. It’s okay.” I keep my voice as calm as I can. Her nervousness breaks my heart. This is what they did to her. This is what I could have helped prevent.
Océane utters a short laugh. “Better than my place, anyway.”
Rachel grunts. “We really need to get you out of that apartment.” Both sisters remove their shoes and grab a seat at my table while I bring the promised coffee. I’ve already set mugs, cream, sugar, and even maple syrup on the table. I don’t even know how Océane takes her coffee.
“What’s wrong with your place?” I ask, a hint of panic in my voice as I set the full carafe of coffee on the table. Behind me, the large window overlooking the neighbouring block resonates with the rhythmic patter of raindrops; I focus on the soothing sound to calm my nerves.
Rachel rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “The place wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the roommate.”
“She’s going through a lot,” Océane chimes in, starting to rub her fingers together anxiously. A thick curtain of chestnut hair covers half of her face as she cranes her neck downward. “I don’t want to be too hard on her.”
“Yeah, butyou’regoing through a lot too,” Rachel continues with a deep frown. “You can’t even use your kitchen anymore.” She turns her attention to me just as I fill her mug with steaming coffee. “There’s piles of dirty dishes everywhere. Dirty clothes in the bathroom. It smells horrible in there.”
I stop mid-pour. Maybe if I sent Océane more money, she could afford a better place. Maybe she could get herself a studio like mine. With her welfare money, there’s not much she can afford. I do know she’s in the process of getting approved for disability, which will mean more money, but even then, it’s never enough.
“Um … want me to do it?” Rachel says with a raised eyebrow, taking the carafe from my grip.
“Shit. Sorry.” I sit and let her finish pouring each of us coffee.
I don’t wait any longer. I can’t.
I meet Océane’s gaze. “I can help you get a new place. Money’s not an issue.”
