“Wow. Okay, time to get you in bed.”
A hand sweeps under my knees and I fall into his arms, laughing and kicking my feet. He hauls me upstairs to his apartment, which I guess is my apartment now too.
“You are a wiggly drunk.”
“Ha!” I loop an arm around his neck. He smellssogood, and I burrow my face into him.
He sets me down inside the room I plan to share with April, on the new mattress. Someone must have carted it inside while I wasn’t paying attention.
“For the record, Sid,” I say as he moves to shut the door, “you’re a good kisser, too.”
He smiles, giving no hint as to what he’s thinking. “Good night, Kayla.”
IN THE MORNING,I desperately want to fling my traitorous body into the Pacific Ocean.
“Oh, shit…” I press my face into my pillow as memories of yesterday flood back.
“Are you hungover?” April is awake, one of the library books in her lap.
“I don’t think so? We didn’t have that much.”
“Still more than I got.”
“Believe me, you didn’t need it.” I reach for my pack, digging out a sweater and pair of pants, since there’s no way I’m flouncing around in this dress for another minute. Still, my hand lingers as I stuff it into the bag. My wedding dress.
I don’t fancy meeting Sid after I ended last night as a giggling mess in his arms, but when I open the door, he’s nowhere to be seen. In fact, there’snothingto be seen. In terms of layout, the apartment is identical to Silas’s but the couches and blankets are gone. The only sign of human habitation is a pair of work boots next to the front door. There’s nowhere to sit, nothing on the walls, not even dirton the floor. If the place wasn’t so clean, I would assume it was abandoned.
“What the hell?”
“Yeah. Weird, isn’t it?” says April behind me.
“Did I marry a psychopath yesterday?”
“Maybe. Maybe he’s married lots of women before. Maybe he murders them in the living room, scrubs it, then hides the bodies under the floorboards.”
“Oh, shut up.”
“Of course, if that’s the case, then it’stooclean. Draws suspicion.”
“You read too many murder mysteries.”
Still, I hesitate in the doorframe. Why is this bothering me so much? I don’t care how much crap Sid owns, do I? Even if this is abnormal—which based on Silas’s place, it probably is—it’s not a crime. Maybe he likes sliding around the wooden floors in his socks. But that unnerved feeling doesn’t go away. Staring me in the face is hard evidence that I know absolutely nothing about my husband.
“He must eat breakfast in the kitchen,” I say at last. “We might as well try going there, too.”
April sighs, picking up one of her notebooks. “I guess.”
Up until now, we’d been avoiding most of the shared spaces around the acreage. Our rations come with oats and those are easy enough to cold soak overnight, so no need for the kitchen. We usually eat dinner at the firepit outside. It feels safer than going into confined quarters with a whole bunch of strange men. But if we’re going to live here long term, maybe it’s time to explore our new home.
I lead the way downstairs, only to stop in my tracks once I push the kitchen door open. April bumps into me, but once she sees what’s in front of us, she’s equally awestruck.
“Wow…” April says.
I’ve been inside of big kitchens before, back when Apriland I squatted in abandoned houses. But what makes this one impressive is that it’s fully stocked. Drying herbs hang from the rafters, the shelves piled high with bags of beans, oats, wheat, potatoes, carrots, and onions. A haunch of smoked meat rests on the counter, wrapped in wax paper, and a bouquet of salad greens is stored with a glass of water beneath them, to slow wilting.
I haven’t seen a store of food this size since… have I ever? I wish I remembered Port Alberni better, then maybe I wouldn’t feel so small. I wander past the stove to a storage unit and pull open drawers to find bowls, spoons, and wooden cups. When I happen upon the knife block, I’m tempted to take the butcher knife and stash it in my bag, but I’m guessing they’d notice if it went missing. A washtub has a collection of dishes stacked inside of it, their surface still damp. Above it is a chart marking everyone’s dish duty day. That’s got to be Sid’s doing.
“I’m totally studying here from now on,” says April, spreading her books out on the massive oak table at the centre of the room.
