Page 29 of Head Under Water

“No,” Mom says, “I’ve got medicine here. I took some earlier and slept for an hour or so, hoping I’d feel better before we go out.”

I take two more steps, stopping on the landing. “Well…do you not want to? Maybe you should stay in and rest. I can come over and make soup instead.”

“Absolutely not.” Her voice is firm now, though still raspy. “It’s your birthday. You should be enjoying yourself, not taking care of me. I’ll be fine.” She draws in a deep breath. “But would you mind very much if we pushed our dinner off by a night? I’d love to take a hot bath and then go to bed.”

I’m sad all at once, but I know the answer is what it is. I can’t ask her to go out when she’s sick. And it’s just a birthday. Just my thirtieth birthday. Celebrating can wait a day or two.

“Yeah. Of course. Are you sure you don’t want me to bring something by, though? It’s why I moved back. I want to help.”

“I’ve got soup and medicine here, and Margie’s over.”

“Happy birthday, Opal!” Margie calls in the background. She was the first to text me this morning.

“She’ll make sure I’m still kicking,” Mom says. “Honey, I just want you to enjoy yourself, okay? Promise me you’ll go do something fun.”

I suck in a breath. What would I even do? But I know what she needs to hear as she coughs again.

“Of course. I’ll call someone from work. We’ll go out to eat or something. And then I’ll see you as soon as you’re better.”

“All right,” Mom says, happy enough. “Good. I love you, my girl.”

“I love you, too,” I say, my voice cracking. Why am I so sad today? Why is everything making me sad? “Get some rest, okay? Call me tomorrow.”

I end the call, silently berating myself for being such a baby, and push open the apartment door.

It’s quiet.

Will is nowhere to be found.

I let the latch click into place behind me with a nudge of my hip. I’m nearly to my bedroom when I hear a sound coming from down the hall.

Will’s door is closed, sunlight peeking out from underneath it.

I take half a step in that direction.

“Mmmmm.”

A guttural groan from somewhere deep in his throat, nearly a growl. I move forward slightly, edging down the hall. Is he okay?

There’s a repeat of the desperate hum. Warmth tugs somewhere low in my stomach. It’s the sound of…pleasure. Not pain. My breathing hitches.

“Fuck. Fuck.”

My heart gallops, my skin suddenly on fire. Every inch of my body tingles with sparks, nerves fraying. I’m completely frozen, muscles tight.

Then, rage. White-hot anger I have no right to feel.

He has someone in there. As if this day wasn’t already bad enough, now I have to listen to Will having sex. Loudly.

The hair at the nape of my neck stands on end. I should go. I should…do literally anything but stand here and keep listening.

“Fuuuck. Yes. O—fuck.”

Even as I think about leaving, every time I hear his voice, it pins me in place. Electricity prickles my skin, heat spreading from my core to the farthest reaches of my body. I close my eyes, thinking.

Trying to think.

Except…I’m feeling every one of his deep breaths against my skin. A shudder of something dark and intriguing runs through me. Because he doesn’t know I can hear him. And with my eyes closed and the only sounds coming from him, it’s almost like⁠—