34. Arsen
34
ARSEN
It’s as if a home decor shop went through a shredder.
Interior design magazines are spread across the floor of Laila’s room like a mosaic, dogeared or lolling open or ripped apart entirely. A smattering of colored sticky notes is plastered to the loose pages. Laila herself is sporting a few squares of neon pink and yellow on her sleeves.
I have to make a wide circle around the carpet so as not to step on the graveyard of magazines. “I take it this is for the new house?”
She nods without looking up at me. “I’ve been experimenting with ideas for each room. I even found this amazing wallpaper store in the city. They make custom wallpaper according to your specifications. Isn’t that cool?”
I grunt in response, walking over to Nina’s cot to watch her snooze because it’s easier than looking at my crazed wife right now.
“So, you’re moving out?” I can feel Laila’s eyes on my back, but I don’t turn around. Not until I’m sure I can fight back my scowl. “Were you going to tell me before you left or was I going to wake up and be surprised by your empty room?
“You’re mad.”
“I’m not mad.” I force myself to breathe. “I gave you the keys. I just might have been hoping you wouldn’t take me up on the offer.”
She steps nimbly over the magazine to stand next to me at the crib. “I want to get the house ready, Arsen. That doesn’t mean I’m gonna move in right away.”
“But you do want to leave.”
For the first time, she reaches towards me of her own volition, her hand grazing my arm. “This house is wonderful, but it’s yours. I’ve come and gone too many times to feel like I belong here.”
“I know I’ve been an asshole?—”
She tightens her grip on my wrist. “I’m not looking for another apology—I’m not asking for one. You’ve done that already, and I accepted. I’m just trying to explain to you how I feel.”
“Okay,” I say evenly. “I’m listening.”
“Barnes House is my dream house. You literally brought to life a fantasy I never thought I would ever have. It feels like the kind of house I could turn into a home… For all of us.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Mrs. Adamov, are you asking me to move in with you?”
“I know we’re doing this all backwards, but if things continue to go the way they have been between us…” She shrugs. “I just thought it might work.”
The hairs at the back of my neck are standing on end. This is the closest she’s ever come to giving me any kind of hope, and I’m not ready to jump at it just yet. Not until I know it’s real.
Her face falls. “If you don’t want to leave this house, then?—”
“I never said that.” I pull her towards me, and she hits my chest with a soft little gasp.
She flushes scarlet and her pupils dilate. “This could be a fresh start for all of us. A home we build together.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Good. So can I keep looking at magazines or do you have equally strong opinions about wallpaper designs?”
“I have none,” I assure her. “I want this house to be exactly what you want it to be. Tell me what you want, and I’ll buy it.”
She wags her eyebrows mischievously. “You might regret that later.”
“When it comes to making you happy , roza, I’ll regret nothing.”
On second thought, I might have a few regrets.
The first being not leaving when Laila, Kira, and Guilia gave me the chance. Kira told me I wouldn’t be able to hang with them, and I laughed—actually laughed in her face.
“I don’t spend hours in the gym every week to not be able to handle a shopping spree,” I scoffed.
But that was five stores and seven hours ago. Now, my feet ache, and if I look at one more wallpaper sample, my eyes will never uncross.
Meanwhile, Kira and Guilia bounce around behind Laila, discussing color palettes, paint samples, and bespoke light fixtures like there’s nothing in the world they’d rather be doing.
Guilia snatches the tag off of a sideboard and adds it to the stack in my hands. “Here’s another one, Adamov. Don’t lose it.”
I glare at her, but she doesn’t notice. To Guilia, I’m nothing but a giant, walking credit card. The only time she bothers to acknowledge me is when it’s time to pay for something.
More than once, I’ve been tempted to remind her who the fuck I am. Enzo’s restaurant launch is coming up, and there would be more than a little talk if his newest ally wasn’t there to support him.
But then Laila is indecisive about some curtains or a lamp, and Guilia gives the problem her full attention. She and Kira are amazing with my wife, and that covers a multitude of sins in my book. They complement her taste, support her decisions, and bite their tongues when Laila has her heart set on something they don’t like.
Take, for instance, the item we’ve been standing in front of for the last fifteen minutes.
Judging from Guilia’s pinched nose, she’s not a fan of the light-up cloud mirror Laila is considering for the nursery. But when Laila turns to her, she transforms the grimace into an approving smile.
“Do you think it’s too much?” Laila chews on her lip. “Too cutesy?”
“I think you love it.”
Laila blushes. “It’s kitschy, I know. But yeah, I do kinda love it.”
“Then you should get it.”
My wife frowns, turning back to her uncertain expression in the mirror. “What do you think, Kira?”
“I think it’s whimsical and fun. If that’s your vision, go for it.”
With their approval, Laila finally snatches the tag from the mirror and hands it to Guilia, who adds the tag to the pile in my hands.
Laila loops her hand through Kira’s arm and practically skips to the linens department, but Guilia hangs back, eyeing me with a curious arch of her eyebrows. “I had money on you leaving within the first hour.”
“I promised Laila I’d be here, so I’m here,” I reply.
“Even though you’re bored shitless?”
I smile. “I’m with my wife. I could never be bored.”
We both look across the aisle at Laila, who has just found an even larger version of the cloud mirror.
“Tell me,” she says. “What do you really think about that mirror?”
“It’s hideous, as you well know.”
Guilia stifles a laugh. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“The same reason you didn’t: because the only thing that matters is what Laila wants. And she wants that ugly-ass mirror. So she gets it.” Laila uses the remote to change the mirror to pink and then purple, her smile growing wider with every color. “I’ll pay for a hundred of those fucking things if it means seeing that smile on her face.”
“Well, I’ll be damned. Old dogs might be able to learn new tricks after all.” Her grin turns into a scowl. “But I’ve still got an eye on you.”
I smirk. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”