Chapter 11 Chloe
The lock clicked. I didn’t look up. I knew his booted footsteps by now.
“You’re getting bold,” I said, turning a page. “Coming up here in broad daylight.”
“Arthur’s playing golf. The women are shopping.” He closed the door behind him and leaned against it. “I couldn’t deal with them today, so I told them I’m sleeping in.”
I smiled despite myself. He crossed the room slowly, eyes moving from my face to the book in my hands.
“What are you reading?”
“Beloved.”
He sat on the edge of my mattress. “Is it good?”
I looked at him then. The afternoon light softened the hard lines of his jaw. He looked tired.
“It’s devastating,” I said. “And beautiful. And necessary. Relatable.”
His brow furrowed. “Why?”
I closed the book, running my fingers over the worn cover. “A woman named Sethe. She escaped slavery, but the past wouldn’t let her go. It haunted her. She made an impossible choice to protect her children from something worse than death.”
His jaw tightened.
“There’s this thing called rememory,” I continued. “Sethe believed memories weren’t just in your head. They lived in the places where things happened. You could walk past a spot years later and the memory would still be there, waiting to grab you.”
I finally met his eyes.
“This house is full of rememory. The balcony where my mother fell. The door where I watched Olivia move into my room. The kitchen where Caspian first touched me when I was twelve.” My voice cracked. “I’ve been living inside their rememory for fourteen years."
He was quiet for a long moment. Then he reached out, his fingers brushing my chin, tilting my face up. “Nothing is wrong with you, Chloe. Is there?”
“There’s plenty wrong with me,” I said softly. “But nothing I’ve been diagnosed with.”
“What can I do?” he whispered. “Tell me what you need.”
No hesitation. No conditions. Just readiness. I leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You can pay my Wi-Fi bill,” I said lightly.
He blinked. “What?”
“So Mary doesn’t have to. She uses her own money to keep my tablet connected. I don’t like that. Could you, please? I’ll be rich one day and pay you back.”
He searched my face. “Chloe, that’s not what I meant.” He seemed so frustrated.
“I know.” My voice dropped. “But it’s what I can ask for right now.”
I reached for my book again, opening it as if the moment had already passed. I couldn’t tell him everything yet.