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She’d always been a joyful person. Joy, optimism, and excitability, those were the cornerstones of her personality.
But if she was being honest with herself, those traits had been a little less present since he’d quit returning her phone calls.
She’d worked through it, she understood as much of it as she could, and she knew it hadn’t been her fault.
But it also felt like her optimism had betrayed her.
Her tendency to look for the good in everyone had backfired with André.
Hadn’t it?
She watched his back as he reached over his head and pushed the ceiling tiles aside. His shirt was covered in wallpaper paste and something about that hit a soft spot in her heart.
They’d talked at length of buying a home and then completely remodeling the inside for the fun of it.
Together.
He knew so many of her secrets. And she knew almost none of his.
It wasn’t until much, much later that she had seen the imbalance of their relationship.
She was a blabbermouth, constantly spilling her heart all over the place as if to trick someone into slipping and falling in love with her.
And André kept his heart locked inside a vault surrounded by puzzles and mazes and miles of jungle overgrowth like a treasure hunter’s one last quest.
But she wasn’t going back into that wilderness.
On one hand she wished he’d just stayed gone.
But on the other hand, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to describe the relief she had felt when she saw him again.
As if her heart had needed to verify that he was alive and beautiful and thriving.
He spotted her and grinned while pointing up. “The ceiling is hollow.”
She dragged her eyes away from his uncharacteristically bright smile and looked up at the ceiling.
“What do you want to do with the ceiling?” she asked.
Was this what it would have been like to redo their first house together? Just making it up as they went?
A thrill rolled through her that ended in sadness.
How could it be so great and so painful at the same time?
He, of course, had no idea her insides were a confetti cannon of broken hearts and wishing stars. He came down the ladder and took a step towards the middle of the room where he pointed up.
“I think we could remove these ceiling tiles. The ductwork looks a little worse for wear, but I can change that out. I took a peek and there’s copper pipe throughout. And I thought we could polish that up and paint the rest.” He shrugged. “Unless the wood matches the floor. And then maybe we should just stain it.” He turned those swirling green and amber irises on her. “What do you think?”
I think I need to lie down.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked up like she could see beyond the ceiling tiles. “I like that idea. Kind of reminds me of that place in…” She trailed off and scratched her ear while swallowing.
If he noticed her discomfort, he hid it well by going back up the ladder.
“That hotel in Paris,” he said, finishing what she hadn’t been able to.
“Hm, yeah. That place.”
