AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The question of Emma's whereabouts gnaws at me, and Fredrick... Did he stop searching because he found something? Or worse, did he give up?
I shut off the water, and the silence is deafening. The towel envelops me, rough against my skin, reminding me that comfort is short-lived. I step out only to see that the mirror is completely fogged over, hiding my reflection. Perfect. I don’t want to look at myself, anyway. I’m not ready to face any of the emotions bubbling just under the surface and peeking out in my reflection.
Wrapped in a towel, I open the door to let the excess steam escape, and notice the soft pajamas waiting just outside the door for me. Fredrick must have put them there, and the tiny gesture of kindness brings tears to my eyes. Sure, it doesn't undo the awful things he’s done, but it’s sweet all the same.
“Better?” Fredrick calls out from somewhere beyond the steam, out of sight.
“Much,” I reply, clutching the fabric close, before stepping back into the bathroom to get dressed.
The scent of lavender soap lingers on my skin, the calming effect doing nothing for the stress welling within me. As I dress, I watch water droplets race down the shower tiles before merging and streaking toward the drain.
Dressing quickly in the pajamas, I wonder why he’s silently offering kindness. It’s a nice gesture that doesn’t fit with the man he has proven himself to be – the man I’m trying not to need or want.
Outside the bathroom, the air is cold, a shock to my super-heated system as I search for him.
In the dimly lit living room, the flicker from the TV casts shadows across Fredrick's face. He exudes an intensity I don’t understand, and I wonder if my electric day rubbed off on him, too. I’m too tired to feel keyed up anymore, and the shower relaxed me. But he’s uneasy as he holds a bowl of popcorn and pats the seat beside him as if inviting me to come stay a while.
Popcorn does sound good.
I join him on the couch, aware of the space between us and wondering if I should widen the gap. I don’t want a repeat of earlier today when my workday ended. He starts a movie and I smile, remembering our favorite movie from our teen years. A movie I haven’t watched since he left all those years ago.
Dialogue from the movie tries to reel me in, but I’m lost in thought as I mindlessly shove popcorn in my face.
“Thinking about your dad?” he asks. Only then do I realize we’d watched the whole movie and I remember none of it.
The credits roll as I think about my response. “Among other things,” I say, avoiding his gaze. Maybe I’m more tired than I thought. Or maybe I’m finally breaking under the stress of it all. Who knows?
“Are you ready for bed?” Fredrick sounds concerned, and that warms me up more than it should.
“Best idea you've had all day.” I’m only teasing as I stifle a yawn. His gaze narrows and heat crosses his features, warning me that he’s had other great ideas, but he doesn't act on them now, thankfully. I don’t think I could tell him no if he offered comfort and release, even though I have to.
But the encounter with my father is a weight pulling me down. I stand, muscles sore, ready for the silence and peace of sleep. “Goodnight, Fredrick.”
“Night, Lila.”
I don’t know why we’re saying the words now; he’s going to crawl into bed with me like he had last night. And every time I’d woken up, he’d been there, comforting, warm, and making me feel like I’d have to relearn how to live without him when he goes.
With those troubling thoughts, I leave the warmth of the couch. My bed awaits, and I can only hope that my dreams are better than the reality of my life, because everything is spinning out of control, and I don’t know what to do about any of it.
I’ll keep going, of course, but only because there’s no other option. Not really.
Sunlight streams through the blinds. I blink away sleep, the world coming into focus slowly as I blink. There's a rustling sound, fabric against fabric, and I turn to see Fredrick standing by the closet, pulling on a crisp button-down shirt.
“Morning,” I mumble, my voice thick as my mind tries to shake off memories of my dreams.
“Hey.” He doesn't look up; he’s busy with the buttons.
“Shouldn't you be with your family or something?” The question slips out before I can stop myself. His father's funeral was just a few days ago, even though it feels like years have passed since then.
He pauses, his fingers stilling on a button as his gaze ticks to me. “I'd rather be here,” he says simply, stealing the breath out of my lungs with a single glance.
That answer sends an unexpected warmth spreading through me. I push it down, reminding myself this is Fredrick - he’s not my friend. He’s not loving or kind. He does nothing without some thought of gain.
“Thanks,” I whisper, though I'm not sure what I’m thanking him for.
The drive to work is quiet, and we arrive at the flower shop together. I plaster a smile I don’t feel on my lips and make my way inside, noticing that it seems like half the town is hanging around the shop and lining the street. They’re pretending to be busy, but the electric charge in the air tells me there’s something else going on. I get inside and unlock the door as May beams at us both, saying her good mornings.
The bell above the door chimes as customers and deliverymen alike pour in.
