“Oh.” I wipe away the few that want to run with my palms, long past the stage where a finger will swipe them away. “I’m sorry.”
“They don’t bother me. And you don’t need to apologize. I’m… Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.”
I don’t know how to say it’s fine and I know better than to apologize for my own valid feelings.
I don’t say that it’s such a comfort to know I’m not alone, even if this marriage is fake.
I don’t say that this is the first time in a long time that anyone’s taken care of me and how pitiful it is that my neighbor, a man I barely know, is the one having to do it.
Shame and fear want to swallow me, but before they get the chance, the male nurse from earlier pops in with a wheelchair. He thrusts some papers at Liam, but speaks to me, “Are you ready to go?”
Liam’s bedroom is not at all what I imagined. Then again, I pictured an unlit black-and-red dungeon. The kind that Dracula himself would find a bit too goth.
Instead, I find the room to be much like the rest of the house—neutral, elegant, and masculine. Where I have a tub in my bathroom, he has a walk-in shower with room for twelve. Okay, that’s an exaggeration. But it’s huge, with stones grouted into the floor that feel more like a massage than they appear.
He ushered me in, asked if there was anything I needed, and left the moment I said I was good.
That was more than an hour ago.
I showered and changed into clothes I’d grabbed next doorand slid under the covers, holding fast to the slightest sliver on the window side of the bed. I don’t know if he has a side. I do and I tend to also have the middle. When I get a king-sized mattress in a hotel, I always choose the side closest to the bathroom, but that’s because I don’t want to stub my toe in the middle of the night and the fewer obstacles the better. Especially with my… proclivities.
It’s dark and cold, and there’s white noise coming from somewhere. And I’m very wide awake.
I assumed I would pass out after all that. I assumed my inability to stay awake this afternoon would kick in tonight too. That would’ve been convenient. Instead, I got the you-napped-too-long-no-sleep-for-you body and the how-many-boogey-men-are-out-there mind. So much so, I’d consider calling in sick tomorrow, but at least my mind will stay busy there.
If it’s functional at all.
I’ve tossed and turned so many times that no position is comfortable and there’s not a cool spot to lay in. Except the middle.
And that’s a hell-no zone.
I’m sure it’s stressors on the system, though usually those would be like adrenaline bottoming out. Instead, my body has decided to revolt. I begin listing the elements of the periodic table by atomic number. If I have to go alphabetical, I’ll never get to sleep. I’m somewhere between Rhodium and Palladium when I look to the nightstand.
The clock shows nearly three in the morning, there’s no point in even pretending that I’ll get any sleep. I flip the covers back, meander to the door, and walk square into a wall of chest. “Oof.”
“Why are you up?” Liam asks low and brusque, but his hands steady me as I teeter. Always the juxtaposition with him.
“I can’t sleep. I was coming to—” What? Find him? No. Get a glass of water? I already have that. “I could be sleepwalking.”
His chest bounces against mine.
He spins me, pointing me back in the direction of the dark room. “Give me a sec?”
He said sec, right? Like second. Not sex. I’m sure he didn’tsay sex. No one says a sex, like it’s singular. I’m back sitting on my side of the bed when he follows me in.
He sits down, long legs stretched out before him. “Seven will come early. Try to get some sleep. I’m here. You’re safe.”
There’s so much wrong with that sentence. I need to leave for work at seven, not wake up at seven. And how in the world am I supposed to sleep with him here? Safe is nice, but it’s not my body I’m worried about.
Or maybe it is.
25
all the way in
Liam
My laptop is propped on my lap, and I’m working as quietly as I can.
