Chapter 29
TWENTY-NINE
Efa
As I take the staff lift to the Park Suite, I can’t help but wonder if any of the other housekeeping staff has a side gig? I’ve been trying to track down a hacker going after one of the most successful companies in American corporate history. Maybe Jose and Jackie, who work the executive rooms, have a sideline dealing shares in corporate bonds.
My stomach flips as the lift stops at my floor and the doors slide open. My heart lunges heavily when the door to the Park Suite comes into view.
I’m on my own today. Marcella is sick and I’ve been given sole responsibility for her rooms. She’s taught me well—I know I can do it. I just wish I didn’t have to. Not today. I don’t want to see Bennett in these circumstances.
Even though I last saw him a few hours ago, I miss him. But it’s not because of the time that’s passed, it’s because of the distance now stretched between us. Even though we fought and he overreacted, the idea of him not wanting to see me makes my heart ache.
He’s not reached out since we talked in the car yesterday. Aarvi can’t have convinced him that it’s not me who’s out to get him.
All I’ve been doing is trying to help.
He doesn’t trust people, I get it, but it hurts more than it should that he doesn’t trust me .
The last thing I want to do is change his sheets when he might think I’m there to spy on him or plant some kind of device to aid in the attack on Fort. I don’t want to see him again when he sees me as the enemy, because that’s the last thing I am. I can’t bear to see an expression of hatred or distrust in his eyes. Not after everything we’ve shared.
The light to make up the room is on. I arrange the trolley outside, pull my shoulders back, and knock on the door. I open the door with a second knock and call “housekeeping”. There’s no answer, but I wouldn’t expect Bennett to answer.
Trying to put off seeing him, I head to the bathroom first. I collect all the used towels and head back out into the corridor to stuff them in my linen sack. For a moment, I can breathe. Not for long. I head back to the bathroom with my cleaning bucket and start on the sink.
Something’s off. I can’t put my finger on it. And then I realize. His toiletries have gone.
I spin around, trying to spot them somewhere, but there’s nothing. Not even his brown leather washbag. I back out of the bathroom and head to the dressing room, pulling the doors open.
Nothing.
No suit jackets. No shirts. No shoes.
It’s all gone.
I run into the bedroom. Bennett never left personal items in the room, but I search for something, anything—a phone charger, a computer mouse. But there’s no doubt about it: he’s checked out.
Where’s he gone?
Somewhere he can hide from me. My heart feels so heavy, I can barely breathe from the weight of it.
That’s it. No discussion. No goodbye. We’re just done.
I go through the motions in a daze, all the while replaying our last conversation with tiny variations—things I could have said, maybe should have said, that might have resulted in a different outcome. But for all my mental gymnastics, I don’t see how things wouldn’t have ended just like this. We started as we began, with Bennett thinking I’m something I’m not.
After the bathroom, I move through the suite, trying not to imagine him sitting on the sofa or at the desk. In the bed.
As I pull off the pillowcases, his scent fills my lungs. It all feels so unfair. I’m angry that he couldn’t just talk it out with me. Why couldn’t he see that I was trying to protect him? It must be awful to know there are so few people in the world you can trust, and then have one of the few in your inner sanctum betray you.
I get it. I’ve been there. But why couldn’t he let me be there for him?
After making the bed, I start dusting, wiping any sign of Bennett from every surface.
That’s when I see it. The stone I wrangled from Bennett’s hand that day at the lake. The one I asked him to keep safe.
He left it.
My knees weaken and I take a seat on the bed, even though I’ve just made it, because I’ll fall to the floor if I don’t. The stone feels smooth in my hand, and warm like it’s been in the sun all day.
He must have known I’d find it.
He wanted to rid himself of every last memory of me, like I’m some kind of disease to be purged from his system.
I guess I should be grateful for the closure.
I can go back to London in a few weeks with no loose ends or regrets. There’s nothing to wonder “what if” about.
Even though I didn’t expect things to end this way, they were always going to end. We were never going to ride off into the sunset together. And that’s why I can’t understand why it feels like my body is shutting down. My chest aches and my legs aren’t strong enough to hold me.
How can I feel so much for someone who trusts me so little?
It hurts at the moment, but hopefully it will pass quickly.
It doesn’t stop me slipping the stone into my pocket.
He might not want to relive the memories of our time together, but if memories are all we have, I’ll take every last one.