Page 51 of Breathe Me: Smith & Belle

Smith

We had barely spoken over the past three days. At night, Belle turned away from me in bed. Thornham also had a fatal flaw that I hadn’t foreseen until then. It was easy to hide on the estate’s sprawling grounds. It seemed I was constantly just missing Belle. I’d grown tired of Nora’s sympathetic smiles when she told me that Belle had gone out for a walk or Mrs. Winters pursed lips as she shook her head every time I asked if she’d seen my wife.

“Lost her again?” she said with disapproval, shaking her head and turning back to the shepherd’s pie she was making for dinner.

My frustration had shifted into uneasy guilt. For the first time, I found myself questioning my intimate relationship with my wife. When I looked back on the other night, I no longer saw it as me trying to reach her, but as a man being too arrogant to realize he wasn’t wanted. Was that why she had been so distant? Was that why looking into her eyes had felt like staring into the bottomless depths of the ocean?

I missed my wife. I loved my wife. I just didn’t know how to find her.

“We’re going to have a guest at dinner,” I told Mrs. Winters. She huffed, beginning to complain under her breath about not getting any warning as she continued preparing the evening meal. I left her there, still muttering. I felt somehow that without complaining, she wouldn’t know what to do with her time. Every night she made enough food for an army. Belle hardly ate anything these days, picking at her plate like a bird. We always had leftovers. The most trouble she would have to go to was to add a seat at the newly arrived dining table.

I gave up trying to find Belle. My wife could hide from me. I would let her if that’s what she needed to do to process this. Something told me that she’d be coming to me sooner rather than later, though.

That afternoon after consulting with Rowan about the project in the back, I decided to grab a quick shower before driving into town to pick up Penny’s Christmas present. I stepped into the shower, turning on the water to rinse off the dirt from outdoors. One thing I hadn’t counted on when we moved to the country was how much goddamn labor it would take to get the place up to scratch. I leaned forward planting my palms against the tiled wall and let the hot water run down my sore neck and shoulders. I’d kept in shape in London, lifting weights and running, but exercise meant to offset the city lifestyle hadn’t prepared me for the rigors of manual labor. Honestly, it felt good. Building something with my hands, making this home for my family? It was one of the most fulfilling things I’d ever done, even if it hurt like a bitch.

As good as it felt, I didn’t have much time if I was going to make it into the village before dark. The days had grown shorter as Christmas drew nearer. Each morning, I woke expecting to find snow, but nothing had fallen yet. Instead, by the time four in the afternoon rolled around, the sky began to darken. In the country, the darkness was so heavy it felt like you could slice through it with a knife.

I shampooed my hair quickly and rinsed. As I turned off the water, I heard footsteps on the tile.

Despite everything, marriage had turned me into an optimist because I couldn’t keep myself from calling out to Belle as I rubbed my face dry with a towel, “You’re too late, beautiful. But I could be convinced to turn the shower back on if you want to join me.”

The answer gasp and the voice that followed wasn’t Belle’s.

“Shit! I’m sorry!” Nora said.

I dropped the towel from my face, wrapping it around my waist in one motion, as I looked over to discover the nanny, standing frozen to the spot. She was gawking at me. Another time and in another life, I might have appreciated her obvious interest, but every part of me belonged to Belle now.

“What are you doing in here?” I roared, a primal rage taking over me.

That was enough to snap her out of her daze. She looked away quickly, beginning to back-up. “Belle was looking for… Sorry!”

Whatever it was must not have been important, or I must have scared her badly, because she turned and ran from the bathroom.

That was just what I needed. I stalked out of the shower, already canceling my plans to go into the village. There was no way, given the current state of things between my wife and I, that I was going to chance her hearing about this little encounter from anyone else, especially Nora. It had been innocent. A mistake. But I was a man walking on eggshells at the best of times. I might have no interest in Nora, but Belle had pointed out she found the nanny beautiful. I could only imagine how twisted this could become in her head, especially after the photograph of Margot.

I threw on a pair of trousers and a thick sweater ribbed with marled brown wool. I didn’t even bother running a brush through my hair or finding shoes. Hopefully, Belle hadn’t gone on another one of her sodding walks. I tore out of the closet, stopping dead in my tracks when I found her waiting for me by the bed.

“In a hurry?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I was looking for you,” I told her.

“In the closet?”

“Listen, beautiful,” I said hurriedly, in no mood to have this turned into another argument. "I was grabbing a quick shower when you sent Nora in for whatever it was you needed. I don’t want you to think anything happened.”

“Did something happen?”

"No,” I repeated. “I just wanted you to know that it happened.”

“But you just said nothing happened,” she said.

She was fucking infuriating. It was making me hard. “Yes. I mean, no. Jesus Christ, Belle, what do you want?”

“Some lotion, actually.” She abandoned her interrogation, strolling into the bathroom to dig in a vanity drawer. As she came out, she waved the bottle. “This is what I sent Nora in for.”

"Maybe advise her to knock next time,” I said dryly, stretching an arm toward her. Belle was in a surprisingly good mood—playful even.

She stepped backward, dashing my illusions about the situation. “She told me what happened. It sounded like an accident.”