Chapter 17
Seamus
Alina lugs a heavy suitcase out of the car. I walk over and take it from her. “What do you have in here?”
“Just a few things,” she says casually.
I haul the bag up the steps and into my house. “Rocks and lead cannonballs?”
“Clothes mostly.”
“There’s no way your clothes weigh this much,” I grumble as I dump the bag down in my bedroom.
She grins and shrugs slightly before unzipping. “Like I said. Just a few things.”
I swear she’s got half her wardrobe in there. At least I hope she does. Otherwise I’ll have to buy a bigger house.
She hums to herself as she begins to lay everything out. I watch curiously while she gets set up. There are little stacks all over the place, lined into rows by color and type. Tops there, bottoms there.
“Are you organizing before you organize even more?”
“You could probably learn a thing or two,” she says with a slight shrug. “Based on the state of this place.”
“What’s wrong with my house?”
“You’re not exactly tidy.”
“Tidy? I’m pristine.”
Her nose wrinkles and she shrugs. “Whatever you say.”
I glare at her, annoyed, but also thinking about yesterday on the balcony. Her stuck-up mouth sucking my cock and loving my taste. This goddamn girl drives me crazy, but I still want her so damn badly.
I don’t say anything for a while. I lie back on the bed and observe.
She moves around with grace and precision.
It’s a little obsessive and unnecessary, and I can’t help but admit there’s a kind of sense to all her madness.
Once her clothes are out in sections, she begins to place things in the drawers I cleared out.
“I know you’re not fully bought into this,” I tell her after she’s already glared at my closet for three whole minutes like it might make more space. “I appreciate you trying at least.”
She glances at me. “That almost sounds nice. What’s the catch?”
“You’re always waiting for me to be a bastard, aren’t you?”
“History repeats itself.”
“God, you’re such a brat.”
“And you’re a bastard.” She grins slightly. “But you’re welcome. I know this is important to you.”
I push myself off the bed with a sigh and gesture for her to follow. “I want to show you something.”
She clearly doesn’t want to stop what she’s doing. There’s probably a proper order in her head, and coming with me on a side quest wasn’t part of her to-do list plans. But for once, she decides to bite her tongue and comes with me to the room next door.
I gesture inside. She frowns at me like I’m about to explode into a million pieces in her face before peering through the doorway.
“I made some changes.” I gesture at the shelves and the hanging racks. “It’s only half finished right now, but I think this’ll make an acceptably large walk-in closet for you when it’s done. What do you think?”
She moves inside. I have an island envisioned like her closet back home plus more built-in shelving and drawers. Right now, it’s only partially done. I haven’t had much time to work on it.
“You did this for me?” she asks, looking over her shoulder.
“I want you to feel welcome here. My house is your house too.”
She chews her lips for a second. “And here I am, being an asshole to you.”
“I’d never ask you to be anything but yourself.”
“Stop. Don’t ruin the moment.” She takes a deep breath and looks at me. Her eyes are slightly watery. “Thank you, Seamus. I’m honestly a little touched.”
“It’s just a closet.”
“No, it’s more than that. You’re trying to meet me halfway. You’re being flexible. While I’ve been—”
“Rigid. Difficult.”
“Set in my ways.” She gives me a hard look. “You really jumped on that.”
“Like I said, I want you to be happy here.” I move in toward her. She doesn’t pull away when I put a hand on her lower back. I like the way my palm fits there. I like her spine, her curves. I love her thick blonde hair and her fit body.
She leans into me. We stand in silence for a few seconds. No jokes, no teasing, no arguing. Just the two of us.
“I need to tell you something.” Her voice is a choked whisper. “God, I feel like such a piece of trash waiting this long. But every time I tried to bring it up, we kept having sex.”
My eyebrows raise. “What are you talking about?”
“Something happened.” She pulls away and drifts across the room. “I should’ve mentioned it right away, but I know how you’re going to react.”
“Alina.” My eyes narrow. Warning bells ring in my head. “What’s wrong?”
“Remember the other night when you found me downstairs?”
I remember it vividly. I particularly remember fucking her on the couch. “You weren’t down there because you couldn’t sleep.”
“I heard something. I don’t even know what, but it woke me up. When I went to check it out, I found a note.” She takes a folded piece of paper from her back pocket and hands it over.
I take it, saying nothing. Inside is a simple message in clear, blocky script.
Do You Want To Leave Him?
I stare at the message for a long time. Do You Want To Leave Him? It’s obviously talking about me.
And she kept this a secret.
“Who wrote it?” I ask softly, handing the note back. She hesitates before she takes it and shoves it back into her pocket.
“I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure it out.”
“And you found it in your apartment?”
“I know how it sounds, but I don’t have any idea how it got there.”
I turn away. I feel light all of a sudden. There’ve been plenty of chances to bring this up, but now she must feel guilty or something.
Why would she keep it a secret?
But I know the answer already.
I just don’t want to admit it to myself.
Why would she want to stay married to me?
We’re opposites. I drift on the wind. She stays anchored against the storm. To her, I’m rot and chaos.
To me, she’s a pain in the ass, but she’s mine.
And now she’s wondering if she wants to stay or go.
Someone’s out there willing to help her run away if that’s what she wants.
“You should keep unpacking,” I murmur, getting out of there. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I don’t want to think about it.
She lied. Or at least she kept this hidden.
For days now.
“I swear, I didn’t mean to upset you. I knew that if I brought it up, you’d think my apartment isn’t safe and I’d have to move here, but I don’t do well with change. It’s hard, okay? It’s all so hard.”
“It’s fine. I get it.” I step out into the hallway. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Seamus, wait.” She follows after me. “I’m trying my best. I swear I am.”
“That’s good.”
“I love the closet. I love your place. I’m just having trouble acclimating. It’s far from everything I’ve known and I’m just, I’m having trouble. That’s all.”
“I get it.”
“Seamus—”
“You should’ve told me.” I turn on her, anger spilling out. She steps back in surprise. “Don’t you get it? What this note says? Whoever left it thinks we shouldn’t be together. Don’t you know who it was?”
She blinks at me in surprise. “I told you. I have no idea.”
“Your fucking ex-boyfriend.”
Slowly, it dawns on her. She touches her back pocket and shakes her head. “That’s not his handwriting.”
“Come on. Who else would do something like that?”
“Alex wouldn’t. I mean, he couldn’t. You met him.”
She has a point. Her ex isn’t exactly the breaking and entering type. He’s more like a meth and STDs sort of man. “Then why didn’t you tell me right away?”
“You think I still have a thing for him.” Her eyes go wide with surprise. “Are you serious right now?”
“All I know is you got a note asking if you want to leave me and you kept it hidden for days.”
“I tried to tell you, but I was scared of how you’d react!”
“I guess you don’t have to worry anymore. Now you know.”
She stares at me, half confused and half angry. That’s how I feel too. I’m not even sure what to think. Alex breaking into her apartment is legitimately stupid, but who else would’ve done it? Who else would want to break us apart?
I know I’m having the wrong reaction. She didn’t come to me right away because she was nervous, and this is only going to make her afraid the next time.
I just can’t help but feel betrayed.
And pissed to all hell at whoever would dare pull something like that fucking note.
Before we can argue more, my phone starts ringing. She flinches and looks down. I ignore it, but it instantly goes again. Which means this is important.
Cursing, I take it out. “What?”
“Bro, it’s me. I need you back at the house.” Finn’s voice. He sounds stressed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Just come to the house. We’ll talk in person.” He hangs up. I slip my phone back into my pocket.
Alina turns away. “It’s fine. You can go. I’ll keep unpacking, okay? I know you’re mad. I should’ve told you sooner and I’m sorry that I didn’t. But the note is nothing. The message is nothing.” She walks off, back to the bedroom.
I should follow. Tell her that she’s my wife and I don’t want to give her up. Tell her that ever since we got married, I’ve felt more stable. I’ve been drifting less. I’ve been more present than ever before, and it feels good. I like how she’s anchoring me. I like the way I am with her.
Instead, I leave, my stomach a burning hole as I try to sift through the implications.