I push off the doorframe.
“Think about it.”
I close the door.Stand in the hallway.My hands are shaking.Her laugh is still coming through the floor.He’s behind that door with what I want and no use for it.And the thought I buried under the floorboards is already scratching to get out.
Let him go.Let her need you.Let this house be yours again with her in it.
I press my palms against the wall.Breathe until my hands stop shaking.Then I go downstairs.
She’s off the phone.Laptop closed.Coffee in hand.Smile on.
“Railing’s done,” I say.“Tightened it up.”
“Thank God.I was afraid the whole thing was going to come off the house.I almost didn’t call you but I kept thinking about someone leaning on it and?—”
“Smart call,” I say.“Better to be safe.”
I take a sip of coffee.“Thought I heard something in the upstairs bathroom pipe.Went and checked.It’s fine.”
She nods.Doesn’t question it.
I set the mug down.
“Listen,” I say.“I can see you’ve got everything handled here.”
She looks at me.Waiting.
What I want to say would blow the walls off this house.What I want to say has nothing to do with railings or faucets or the man upstairs or anything I’m allowed to want.
“But have you ever tried making him jealous?”
The smile drops.Not all at once—in stages, like a building coming down floor by floor.First the brightness.Then the composure.Then the mask itself, until what’s left is just her, looking at me, with nothing between us but the counter and the question.
She cocks her head.“What do you mean?”
“I mean exactly what I said.”
The kitchen is quiet.The house is quiet.Upstairs, he’s quiet.
She hasn’t said no.
38
Marin
I’m still standing at the counter trying to figure out how to answer a question I wasn’t expecting when I hear it.
Not a yell.Not a scream.Just Charles’s voice, calm and clear, floating down the stairs like a man ordering room service.
“Marin?We have a situation.”
Luke looks at me.I look at the ceiling.
“I’ll be right back,” I say.
I go upstairs.Open the door.
The smell hits first.
