The sky was patterned with stars, the only light pollution from the hotel sign and the windows that glowed. Jonny carried in both their cases, leaving Rayah with just the coats and she clung to them, nervous, apprehensive, excited.
They hadn’t spent more than a few stolen hours alone together before. This was two whole nights and she had plans, big ones. Even if what she thought was correct, that this couldn’t go anywhere because his dreams differed from hers, she wanted to have something of hers, a first.
“Mr and Mrs Graham?” The receptionist beamed at them and Rayah felt slightly sick. Mrs Graham was Grace, not her. Jonny was rational and practical and she hadn’t seen him wither at the mention of Grace since a few months after she’d been killed, but this scared her. She was waiting for the bow to be untied, for it to slip undone and the lose packaging to spill out everywhere and be lost.
“That’s us.” Jonny stepped forward. “Sorry we’re later than I expected.”
The receptionist gave him a beaming smile, the type most women gave him.
“It’s absolutely fine. Shall I show you to your room?”
They followed her up one flight of stairs, Rayah barely noticing the décor. The room they were taken to was huge and had the most massive bed Rayah had ever seen.
“I’ll leave you to it. If you’d like any room service, then please just phone down. It’s available until midnight.”
She left them, leaving Rayah feeling as though she’d been put on stage with no idea what her lines were.
“What do you think?”
“I’m sorry she thought I was Grace.”
Jonny froze, his expression carved from stone. “Ray, why would she think you were Grace?”
“She said Mr and Mrs Graham.”
“Because I booked the room under those names. It was easier and… shit. I didn’t think. It was a drop down menu on their website and it came up automatically. I didn’t think to correct it. I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“I don’t. I thought it would upset you.” She sat down on the bed and pulled off her boots.
“Baby,” Jonny pushed his hands through his hair. “I loved Grace and I still think about her. But my life carried on. I had to carry on, else me and the kids would never have gotten through it. You know this.” He sat down next to her. “What’s going on?”
He moved strong arms around her and shifted her so she sat between his legs, back to his chest, his chin grazing the sensitive skin in between her neck and shoulder.
“I was worried. I am worried.”
“What about? The fire?”
“That. And when this ends.”
“Why does it have to end?”
She turned her head to look at him. “When I need more than you can give.”
“Why’s that going to happen?”
Rayah kissed his arm and nuzzled into his chest. “I don’t know. This is a secret still. We’re each other’s dirty little secret and that’s fun and exciting, but eventually it has to grow into something more or it’ll wither away and die.”
“And what if it doesn’t? What if this isn’t just about us fucking and having that excitement? What if this is more real than both of us planned for? Maybe I want to be the man who carries your suitcases every time we go away. Maybe I want to wake up with you every morning and be the first thing you see each day. This is early, Rayah. Let’s just see where it goes. Live in the moment and enjoy it.”
He was right. Because you never knew when that moment would be gone, forever a memory that faded with each passing day, the colours less vibrant, the lines blurring.
She didn’t have to worry about tomorrow right now. The dark sky wrapped around them, a sheath from reality. They had their own little world and for this instant, she needed to be in that.
“I’m sorry.” She turned round, faced Jonny, pushed her fingers through his mussed hair.
“What the fuck are you sorry for?”
“For being a worrier when I don’t need to be.”
