Page 23 of Kaine

Chapter Eleven

HER

The apartment is deathlyquiet even though it's only about 9 p.m. I've never heard it so quiet in Manhattan before. Even at 3 a.m. with my window open only a crack for air, it sounds like a whole life is being lived on the streets. Life coming, and at times with the ambulance sirens blaring, life being taken away. Loud, garrulous, scary, fun. But never quiet.

Fifty stories up, I guess sound waves get lost in the wind.

I'm standing in the living room in front of a giant expanse of clear glass. Other than the white couch behind me, the soft, cloudlike white shag rug under my feet and a large tv on the far wall, the room is almost completely empty. And I know why. He doesn’t want anything to interfere with this view. I walk up to the streakless window and press my body against it. Reaching my arms out, stretching my fingers out, I feel like I'm flying over the Manhattan skyline.

I could stay like this forever.

That is, until the apartment suddenly isn't so silent anymore.

A loud rumble echoes from my stomach. I'm starving.

I wander through the archway, counting how many of my studio apartments I think could fit in this space and stop after I reach about 20.

Next to the living room is a spotless, beautiful kitchen. The view is no different from there. But this time, instead of a couch, a kitchen island spreads out in front of me. I gingerly open a cupboard and see every possible kitchen appliance spread out in front of me.

Another seemingly inconspicuous door opens into a huge, fully stocked walk-in pantry.

He cooks? The thought tugs at me somewhere. Possibly, I’m going to guess, at my stomach.

I check the clock on the oven. 9:39 p.m. No wonder I'm hungry. Xavier left hours ago, having given up on trying to get me to go. Physical threats to his baby-making capabilities had him shrinking away when he tried to suggest getting me to leave by physical force.

My tummy rumbles again, reminding me of my priorities.

Well, if I'm hungry, he'll probably be starving by the time he stops being a baby and comes home.

I might as well cook us some dinner.

I open the fridge and reach for some pork chops.